He often told people that he gave me my first real job, and in many ways he did.  Almost exactly 28 years ago, I began my career in higher education when I started working for Dr. Roger Eichhorn, the dean of the Cullen College of Engineering at University of Houston on May 15.  He died Monday from a massive heart attack and the minute I read the notice from his former secretary, I began to cry.  Roger had that effect on people.

Roger taught me about leadership:

1.  It is not perfect
2. It is not impersonal or detached
3. It is about standing up for those on your team
4. It is about letting people grow through mistakes and successes
5. It requires a special humility to share credit, move outside of comfort zones, and learn new things
6. It is best delivered authentically, without façade or pretense

I was fortunate enough to visit with him a couple of times over the past couple of months.  I used those times to learn more about him, his life, his story.  A fascinating man with a wonderful life.  I was blessed to learn so much about the man who was my boss and became my true friend.

When the time came for me to leave UH after seven years, I asked his opinion about the job offer that I had.  I said, “Roger, you are the closest thing to a dad that I have anymore and I need your insights…” (my dad had died a dozen years before).  It takes a special boss to earn that position (see the six items above).

It would be easy to turn this column into a 10,000-word story about working with and for Roger.  But mostly, it would be about the boss who became my friend.  He was much more than the man who led me to a new, 27-year career.  He is part of many of the presentations that I conduct now about leadership and management. He was surprised when I told him that a couple of months ago.

I miss you already, Roger.  Thank you for all that you taught me, entrusted in me, shared with me and expected of me.  Love you.

Her eyes welled up when she described the importance of timing for the photograph. In her message was something for everyone.

She was a photography student of mine at a recent class. After the last session, she wanted to talk about the possibility of having a portrait created of her and her beloved dog. There are a lot of variables, and not merely a matter of setting a time; however, timing is everything. Her dog was recently diagnosed with cancer.

She shared her concerns about the dog’s grooming (Would the treatment cause the dog’s hair to fall out? Would she have to groom the dog in an unattractive way to accommodate the treatment areas?). She remained matter-of-fact discussing the issues. Then she paused, and said, “But I don’t know what effect the medication will have on her. I want the images…I want her to have a sparkle in her eye…”

I replied, “You want her personality to show.”

She smiled and her eyes welled. “Yes,” she said.

The conversation continued, but the message holds for us all: true personality matters. Be you.

In several of my workshops and presentations, I use a process to help attendees see their lives in different contexts to empower them based on who they are, the lives they’ve lived and the personalities that are theirs alone. (Next workshop coming May 9, look under Events) Part of the process requires attendees to think of the terms that people who love them use to describe them. Not all the terms are flattering, but they are real. And despite these terms, they are loved.

I am confident that the woman’s dog was not always perfect and never made “mistakes” on the floor and such. But it was recalling the dog’s personality that caused the tears to form.

People love and remember authenticity, personality, openness and genuineness. Be that. Be you. Be loved.

PS: The title of this edition comes from a poem by Walt Whitman, titled “To A Pupil.” We are all students of life, gleaning wisdom and knowledge about the world and ourselves from everywhere we can.

The blessing of Easter also serves as a call to rise in our everyday lives.

People—you, the person next to you, the stranger you will meet—has a life of many deaths.  Relationships, bosses, colleagues, friends, parents, spouses, health issues, death of loved ones, addictions, abuse, fears, depression, disorders:  Each can put an end to some aspect of life and living whether in moments or months or years.  These kill hope, passion, dreams, spirit, talent and more.  But each of us must rise again to life.  To living.

The commitment to never surrender life to other influences or events requires faith, hope and love.  As we celebrate faith today, remember  the call to arise every day to life, to living with hope and love.

Happy Easter, everyone.

(I originally posted this in my LinkedIn Pulse postings, but the message seemed appropriate to the Listen to Life audience, too.  Enjoy.)

Ed sat in on the meeting. I was there to discuss ways that I could help a local nonprofit in its efforts to help special needs populations in myriad ways. Imagine Enterprises does wonderful things. So does Ed. He started his own business. He is proud of it and loves it.

Ed created Ed Shreds, a business that will shred a file box of papers for ten dollars. When he describes the process with limited vocabulary, he overcomes the challenge with big smiles, ten fingers held up, and a sense of pride that is uplifting. His message speaks to all of us.

1. Do What You Can Do Ed shreds because he can manage it. Have you focused on what is within your skillsets and/or resources or are you trying to start with a pie-in-the-sky, blue-sky vision? Years ago a retiring chamber executive told this then-young man that I had a bright future, but that I needed to learn to not only look at the visionary things, but also at the stuff on my desk. Vision and dreams are great, but in the moment you have to focus on doing what you can do. Everyone has impediments of some type or another. We can learn to work around them, and we learn which ones to avoid based on realities. You might want to “change the world,” but perhaps that is not your true calling, or perhaps it not yet your time. Do what you CAN do.

2. Take Pride in What You Do Ed had a little plastic bag with a bunch of business cards. His sister asked him what he had as an encouragement to have him tell the people at the meeting about his business. His pride engaged us all. I think of how many times conversations at networking meetings are factual and informational, but not enthusiastic or proud. Be proud of what you do, whatever it is. Understand your work’s purpose and value.

3. Do Something of Value The rewards of doing something of value extend beyond revenues generated. No matter what service you perform or product you sell, consider the value that you provide. We live in a world of abundance and great opportunity. Of all the options that you have to do something and charge for it, choose those with real value. Ed saves people time, provides them security, and offers convenience. What is your value proposition? That is what customers pay for.

4. Be Clear About What You Do and Your Prices Simplify, simplify. Clarity beats obfuscation every time. Be clear about what you do and what it costs. Ed shreds. The service costs…ten fingers.

5. Smile All Along the Way Whether people end up buying your product or service or not, give them something for free….a smile. It will change their day, build bridges and make you memorable. Too often a slick sales pitch takes on an Eyore tone when things don’t go well. Don’t be Eyore; be Ed. Smile.

If you are considering starting a business, it is easy to get caught up in market analysis, business plans, pro-forma budgets and more. Before all of that, it would serve you well to consider the five lessons from Ed. I know I will.

(Ed can be reached at EdShreds@icloud.com. He offers free pick up in the Clear Lake area of Houston)

The question and answer phase of my presentation to the Nassau Bay Garden Club presented me several questions to answer.  One question was answered for me, and it was the best answer of the session.

I presented insights and guides on photographing plants of all types.  As with most of my photography presentations, it was heavily influenced by the concepts in my book, “The Seeing, Not the Taking.”  The idea is that anyone can take a photograph—push a button—but the important thing is what you see.  We can learn to see influenced by all our senses.  This day’s topic used the concepts as they relate to plants.  Among the questions at the end of the session was this:  “What is your favorite subject to take photos of?”  As my mind’s gears turned, trying to find THE subject among all that life brings, one of the attendees said, “The next one he takes a photo of.”

That’s it.  I could not have answered the question with more accuracy.  Although some subjects appear in my photos more than others as the inspiration or the muse of the moment, I am drawn to myriad inspirations. Life is that way:  inspiring.  Angles, lines, personalities, colors, tones, character, textures, light…there is never a shortage of inspiration, only a shortage of time to act on it.

Her response reinforced a project that I was drawn to, beginning January 1, 2015.  On New Year’s Day, I began a project titled “Still…life.”  Hopefully the images and musings remind us that amidst all that happens to us, in our communities and in the world there is..still…life.  The obvious play on words (the art form “still life”) is actually play with seeing.   What was originally intended to be a way of sharing has turned into a method of growing.

I am thankful for the opportunity to share with others.  I am thankful for their interest and questions.  And I am thankful for the woman’s answer that reminded how inspiring life truly is.

2014 was, shall we say, a bumpy year. I prefer to look at the lessons learned and realities checked. Much wisdom was gained along the way. Amidst it all, there is still life.

I created a photography project, creating one image per day beginning on January 1; I titled it “Still…life,” a play on the words of the photographic subject of “still life”, and the notion that despite all events, experiences, celebrations and disappointments, there is still life. And it should be lived.

A major ingredient to living is to do so with all senses. And to express life, we must create. I have chosen to listen and to see, and then create in words and images a daily view from found settings that serve as reminder that life goes on, full of stories and wisdom.

Each day, I will find an available still life that somehow reminds me, and hopefully reminds you, of the beauty, humor, simplicity and sublime qualities of life and living. Already, I have found connections to the past, the simple message of growth, reminders of gifts from others, and more.

Each year, month, week, day and moment serves to teach us, inspire us, remind us and encourage us…if we allow them to. See differently, change perspectives, grow authentically…there is always….still….life. 

At tonight’s Christmas program at Hope Village, it was abundantly clear that perfection is in the purpose, not in the actions.

Hope Village is a nonprofit group home for special needs adults.  At their annual Christmas event for the community, the residents—called “Villagers”—put on a show that warms the heart, brings smiles and laughter, and reminds everyone about Christmas, particularly about sharing.  The event does not come off perfectly, as you can imagine, in terms of the actions, but the purpose is perfect indeed.  None of the Villagers or the staff or the volunteers became flustered.  Everyone used their gifts, which was the greatest gift of all.

Steve Prefontaine, the legendary runner from the 1970s, was a quotable man.  Among his many:  “To give anything less than your best, is to sacrifice the gift.”  Though he won many races, he never suggested that giving one’s best required winning or perfection; it was about giving the best with the gifts you have been given.  It was the process of doing the best with what one has, not the actions’ final outcomes.  The Villagers reminded the audience tonight of what that really means.

Some sang, some danced, some merely stood in their roles at the appropriate place on the stage.  All smiled, all had fun, all appreciated the applause and all glowed in the feeling of a well-deserved standing ovation.  Each gave of their abilities to create a wonderful event of sharing and caring.  And though all the actions were not perfect, the purpose truly was.  Life should be that way.

PS:  Hope Village has been around for more than four decades, doing an amazing job efficiently and effectively.  They just completed an important capital campaign, but if you are looking for a place to make a special gift this Christmas, may I suggest Hope Village?

Within 20 minutes of the 90-minute Christmas performance, tears flowed down my cheeks.  My tears were nothing compared to the blood, sweat and tears spent over the years by the symphony and chorus members, perfecting their mastery of creating and sharing.  ‘Tis the season of sharing.

I figure the groups had practiced and played collectively more than a million hours prior to their playing of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” that caused my tears.  I admire their individual and group talents, respect their work and effort, and appreciate their sharing that provided a boost to the Christmas spirit of many.  What greater gift to receive than the fruits of another’s talents?  What greater gift to share than the personal gifts of talent and creativity?

The spirit of hope and joy boosted by sharing benefited an appreciative audience.  The musicians of the Symphony of the Hills and the vocalists of Grand Symphony Chorus shared the fruits of talent and practice in a beautiful venue established by sharing:  the Cailloux Theater, that exists in large part due to the generosity of the Cailloux Foundation.

Generosity of giving and sharing—resources, time, talent, labors and vision—makes a difference.  Millions of dollars and millions of hours creating millions of memorable moments—the beauty of gifts shared.

The motorcyclist in front of me rode what appeared to be an efficient street bike, and the rider at the stop sign to the left rode what is sometimes known as a crotch rocket.  The former gave a bit of a wave to connect to a fellow rider and the latter ignored him, or at least did not respond in kind with the upward flip of the hand that indicated greeting to a kindred spirit.  It got me to thinking about how people work so hard to find groups of similar types as themselves, and then try to connect with gestures, signs and signals.

Wardrobe choices, hand signals and subtle lifts of the head are but a few of the ways that some try to show connection to others.  Even within those categories of communication, there are subsets of distinctions.  Not only the type of clothes, but the color, too; not just the hand signal, but how it is delivered and when; not just the head movement, but the facial expression that accompanies it, and so on.  It seems that everyone wants to be different… and then be part a group that is similarly different.  We connect by affiliations, memberships and many other ways to find and be part of like-minded types.

I understand people’s desire to each be the “different drummer,” and not be part of conformity, but the fracturing also denies what we do have in common and the need (and the value) of community.  Sense of community and avoidance of conformity are not mutually exclusive.  We can make connection without surrendering our individuality.

Of course, since we are all human, maybe we could just smile at each other and be done with it.

Today was going to be a very busy day, getting things ready for the upcoming holiday and taking care of household and business duties.  Already a bit behind from the beginning, I went to my car to start the day’s errands.  A stick-on note was attached to my window:  “You have a flat.  Right rear.”  I appreciated the note; little did I know it began a day of thanksgiving and appreciation.

My new first stop was the tire shop to get the flat fixed.  I struck up a conversation with a woman in the waiting room and soon we were talking about fishing, church, fatherhood and more.  We had a great chat for about 20 minutes and I ended up giving her a flyer about my Daddin’ presentations to give to her pastor.  The delay in my day was a gift.  As I checked out, I asked the attendant what the cause of my flat happened to be:  a nail.

The tire shop detour threw everything back, creating a jam for a scheduled call with a business coach.  I walked in the door with one minute to spare to make the call.  By not having time to ponder and over analyze, the call started in a way that led to great revelations and observations about my business.  New, important tweaks are now on the horizon.  Her insights and guidance proved to be a treasure already, not the least of which was renewed optimism.

The rest of the day revealed small gifts, treasures and discoveries…a multitude of things to be thankful for.  The nail prompted a note which led to a side trip that provided a great conversation which set the stage for…and so on.

Indeed, every day there is much to be thankful for.  For me, my readers, students, friends, colleagues and family give me daily reasons to be thankful.  Thank you for being part of my Thanksgiving by being part of why I give thanks.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!