We are an item, that light and me. We have come to know each other, to look for each other and welcome each other to the day. Where would I be without that light? It is my lantern. It is my friend.

It is your friend too. Do you see it? Does it see you?

We take light for granted. It is there from daybreak to day’s end, from birth to death. Most people pay no heed to light except for the occasional sunrise or sunset that reminds us of its existence. There is more to light, however, than we can see in those book-end moments …

Light is its own form of music, infinitely variable in its tones and rhythms, capable of surprising us, if we let it. There is Beethoven light, immense in its power, which takes hold of all of our senses, causing us to shield our eyes. It is the sun, itself, in mid-summer, unrelenting in its demanding presence. There is Vivaldi light, subtle and piercing, as it brings a forest alive with lively patterns that will occur only once, because tomorrow leaves will drop and branches will bend, and the tempo of the music will alter, if only slightly. Everything will change, forever.

Children have their own light, which is not hard to see. It follows them around, stubborn and habitual in its presence. Most people would agree that the natural light children give off is a gift from them to us, a reminder of the warmth of innocence that, at times, we secretly wish we still had. It’s more than that. The light children emit is also what keeps us from nearly killing them, when they are at their worst: their bawling, defiant, uncooperative, distant, urchin-like selves.

The light of the child sparks the light of tolerance in the adult. Thank God for the light!

There are people who don’t much care for light. They live in caves, dark huts, shadowy rooms where the window blinds are always drawn. These dark quarters exist within them. They have turned out the light and have chosen to no longer see what is right in front of their eyes. Even the light of day they are forced to walk in has lost its glow. Sunsets are pretty but not moving. Lightning is simply frightening, but not beautiful.

It is hard to love the light of the land, if you don’t love the light inside yourself. The connection between these two forms of light is hard-wired; there is no way to uncouple them. Two people cross a field saturated by a thunderstorm that has just passed. The sky is painted deep, liquid pewter and late-day shards of sun make a modest, fleeting cameo. One person is bowled over by this extraordinary moment, unable to walk on. He has been captured by the light. The other person looks up, then looks down and continues on his way, hoping like hell the rain is done.

In the case of the first person, the light inside has found the light outside. It was easy; that is the natural order of things. In the other case, the light inside had been turned off and it was, therefore, impossible for him to fully appreciate the light around him. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. The light inside you is always there, waiting to be found.

All may not be lost. Sometimes, remarkable moments of outside light, by night or by day, can get the light to flicker on again, inside. Standing in a river, a friend of mine had been fishing for several hours with little luck. As he packed up, he looked downstream about 200 yards to a steel bridge. The bridge looked as if it were covered with countless white Christmas tree bulbs, but it wasn’t; it was bathed in a thousand tiny, shimmering strands of daylight.

My friend laid his rod down on a rock and gazed at the bridge. His demeanor changed. His mouth softened. His shoulders relaxed. His eyes were locked fast to what could have been a mirage. Our walk back to the car was slow. My friend spoke of things he’d chosen not to speak of for a long time. Some family matters. A few bucket list items. All quite important, many quite personal, some quite urgent.

The play of light on ordinary objects can do that to a person: Make you wake up to what already shines within you.

Everyone has their Fifth Avenue.

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Imagine you see what is possible, when others only see what exists in the moment.

Imagine you can inspire hope, when nearly all hope is lost.

No need to imagine it. You already possess these powers.

Here is a passage about someone who accomplished all of this, despite impossible odds.

…The Nazis gave him a number.

 …His manuscript, which they burned, became the book that saved millions.

…The man they tried to reduce to nothing proved that humans can never be reduced to nothing—as long as they can find a reason to live.

 …Prisoner 119104 didn’t just survive Auschwitz. He transformed the worst of human evil into humanity’s greatest wisdom about resilience.

 …He turned suffering itself into a source of healing.

 …History gave him immortality.

 …The identity they tried to erase became a light that guided people through darkness …

 His name was Viktor Frankl. His identity was a bulwark that stood against the forces of destruction that surrounded him – a unique and unbreakable gift that informed his life and the contribution he made to humanity, in spite of everything.

You don’t have to be Viktor Frankl to have an identity that, in its particularly illuminating way, has the power to make life better for others and, in turn, yourself. That identity already resides within you. The only question is how you will apply it – for whom and to what end?

One of my former clients, Chris, runs an investment advisory firm here in Connecticut. A few years ago, he approached me with a wish – to not be just another financial advisor who manages money; he wanted to do more, but wasn’t sure what that was. He had an itch that needed to be scratched and was curious about this “identity thing.”

Chris did the spadework necessary to clarify his identity and then, how his discovery could be used to serve clients in ways that would be helpful to them and meaningful to him.

What came of Chris’s work? He stated his identity in these words: I am Chris, and I am driven to help individuals live the one life they have the best way they can. Chris’s identity had revealed his purpose.

These individuals were no longer simply clients; they were people with vulnerabilities and limitations as well as hopes and aspirations, all of which became a framework for building more authentic, lasting relationships.

Chris’s identity became the lens through which he decided which individuals he could best serve and which ones weren’t right for him. Further, he asked his staff to adopt this basic philosophy for themselves so it became a firm-wide approach.

Here is a very rough sketch of how Chris arrived at his identity statement. Apologies. Most of the words are illegible. But it shows the amount of effort he put into getting to the top of his ‘identity pyramid.’

When I visited Chris a month or so after our work together was complete, he showed me a modest-sized glass pyramid he had had made with much of this information embedded in it. It sat at the front edge of his desk. He told me that he liked it when clients asked him about it…that not only was it an important conversation starter; it was a point of pride for him.

The impact of identity – of identity-based living – can take many forms, from saving millions to helping a few. No matter. What matters is that you do it.

You have the power to change how the world works.

You see what is possible.

You can inspire hope.

Imagine that!

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Authenticity. There isn’t much of it out there these days. Maybe there is among the animals who don’t know anything else. They never learned how to fake it. Increasingly, we humans are faced with fake almost-everything: fake news, fake images, fake claims. Artificial intelligence is only compounding the problem.

And yet, authenticity remains a popular idea. It’s written about in books by famous leaders (e.g., Bill George, former CEO of Medtronic), called for by employees who want to make a strong connection with their bosses and coworkers, advertised by jeans makers (Wrangler is “genuine”), and immortalized by soda companies (Coke: “The Real Thing”). It’s easier to promote it than to live it.

Being authentic in one’s self isn’t always a simple task. It takes insight, courage, honesty, and more – a sometimes inexplicable urge to simply be true to who you are, to the man or woman in the mirror. Being authentic with others can be even more challenging. Why? Because authentic relationships can lead to vulnerability.

Are you willing to open up to someone – your wife, husband or partner, your son or daughter, your best friend, or the person sitting next to you at the bar – and let your hair down? …

Sometimes, it’s easier to share your true feelings with the person at the bar than with your spouse or partner. It’s safer since you don’t have to be held accountable for your sentiments after you leave.

In our search for authentic relationships, we long for what we often fear: intimacy.

I was on safari in Africa a few years ago, sitting in my tent one afternoon, when my tent mate asked me if I knew what intimacy was all about. Before I could answer, he offered this idea: He said to me that intimacy really means ‘in to me see.’  That insight has stayed with me ever since. For all the dictionary definitions of intimacy, the one my friend proposed speaks volumes, for it is an invitation to share at the level of one’s soul, to “speak” soul to soul, privately, intentionally, courageously.

So, then, can we say that a search for authenticity is really a search for intimacy? And that the bridge between authenticity and intimacy can include vulnerability?

Several years ago, a major newspaper published an article describing an exchange between Jack Welch, the previous CEO of General Electric, and William Harrison, prior Chairman of J.P. Morgan that highlighted the power of authenticity.

“In addition to holding their strategic discussions, the article stated, Mr. Welch and Mr. Harrison spent significant time together honing the executive training program at J.P. Morgan. Mr. Welch was particularly impressed with Mr. Harrison’s use of a group exercise in which senior J.P. Morgan executives, including Mr. Harrison, wrote on a board the personal and professional experiences – the more painful, the better – that helped them evolve as people. “Bill was very good at it,’ Mr. Welch said. ‘It makes you become simpatico with the guy.’”

 In that experience, Mr. Welch and Mr. Harrison bonded; they got “intimate” in a way that most likely led to a more fulfilling and productive relationship. They learned that they could trust one another.

So, at the end of the authenticity trail, lies trust. How can I trust you, if you aren’t going to be real with me? And if I can’t trust you, how can I, if you’re a leader in my company, follow you?

If you’re not going to be authentic, how can I love you?  The question is as pressing for couples, friends, and families as it is for business people.

Authenticity opens to vulnerability, which opens to intimacy, which, finally, opens to trust. If you want people to trust you, you need to be authentic, to be yourself. There’s no easy formula for becoming authentic, or testing whether you are. You can’t ask someone if they think you’re authentic; they really won’t know, even if your eyes are flooded with tears. You’re the only one who knows if you’re being authentic.

Each of us must find his or her own path to authenticity and the road it illuminates. First, though, you need to decide how much authenticity is worth to you. What kind of relationships do you want to have? What kind of person do you want to be? How do you want to show up with the people who matter most to you? How do you want to be remembered?

The animals don’t know anything but authenticity and don’t have to work to get it. The buck in search of a mate is unambiguous in his hunt. The mother bear who protects her cubs at all costs makes no bones about her intentions. Being authentic is an easier path for them than for us. So, are the animals the lucky ones?

I don’t believe so. We are the lucky ones, for in struggling to be authentic, we must struggle with ourselves. In doing so, we become fuller, richer, more valuable individuals to ourselves and to others.

What does authenticity mean to you? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

The post Let’s get real! appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

What is my message? is a question that has an out-sized impact on our lives, even when we aren’t aware of it. We are forced to answer the question in all sorts of ways. It comes up in the essays we write as part of our college applications, where admissions officers strain to figure out which candidates to accept and which to reject. The question raises its head again as we search for jobs after graduation – whether from high school, college, or graduate school – and are faced with the not-so-simple task of expressing who we are on one or two pieces of paper called a resume. 

If you succeed in your job, you come face to face with the question again, as you rise through the ranks to a supervisory, or leadership, position. What is your message, then, to the people who work for you? …

… Not, what tasks do you want them to complete, but, rather, why should they follow you, beyond the fact that you’re their boss? 

The question slips into our lives on more modest levels as well: for instance, at large social gatherings when you are introduced to people for the first time. Or, at intimate dinner parties, when you are one of only a handful of people, who are thrust together for three or four hours and need to figure out how to keep the conversation going. 

In all of these situations, you have a choice. You can try to discern what is important to someone else and tell them what you believe they want to hear. You can supply information you feel is safe and easy for others to digest. Or, you can make a point of finding ways to tell people something about who you are at your core, and risk making yourself vulnerable, if only for a moment. 

The fact is that taking the “safe” route isn’t safe at all. Most people, from college admissions directors and would-be friends, to the people who report to you at work, are searching for signs that give them reason to believe that you are someone with integrity — someone they can trust. 

This is where identity comes into play — those special characteristics that reveal how you create unique value in the world. Your identity is ‘an integrity machine.’ It expresses what makes you the individual you are. It invites people to trust you. 

Hiding what you stand for takes a toll on everyone. It may make it easier for you to navigate business or social relationships that require chameleon-like skills to maintain, but, over time, it erodes your sense of self-worth: you know you’re faking it. Moreover, keeping your true self hidden makes life harder for others by keeping them guessing; off balance, in fact. 

Until I faced an auditorium full of people who were interested in the subject of identity, I had kept my message under wraps, at least publicly. For years, I’d lived under the radar. While working with companies and individuals, I knew who I was, and, certainly, I let my passion for identity show in everything I did. Yet, I never had the courage to stand up and be counted. I had let my writings and my work speak for me. Now, I would speak for myself; I would make my message clear: I am Larry Ackerman and I am driven by the need to help people to see. As I spoke these words in that auditorium that day, I exhaled deeply. I felt completely naked as I stood before my audience, knowing there was no going back. I was finally free. 

Answering the question, what is my message? Is liberating. It frees you from the fear of telling the world who you are and doing what you know you must. It brings the self-confidence to not be deterred by what others may think of you, even in the face of possible rejection. You may also realize that you no longer have a choice: you must take a stand. 

Consider your message a personal declaration — a commitment to follow one path and walk away from others. What makes declarations so powerful is their intent, which, in short, is to remove doubt. It is to make something clear to people that wasn’t clear before. Personal declarations lift the veil of mystery. They state something emphatically about who you are, often, for the first time. 

Your identity is the source of that declaration, the essence of your message. It’s a message the world needs to hear. 

The post What is my message (and why does it matter)? appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

Sometimes, all of this suffering gets to me, yet I am powerless to alleviate it. It’s too much. Too big. Too far away. Still, to do nothing isn’t an option. I decided a while ago that if I’m not able to lessen suffering on a grand scale, I’d try and do so on a small scale — one person at a time.

One of the unexpected results of writing The Identity Code were readers who asked me whether I could help them realize the promise of the book’s subtitle — to find their purpose and place in the world. I wasn’t coaching at the time, but I decided that I would at least try. I simply had to.

The challenges presented to me varied widely, from people struggling from career angst — unclear about what they should do next — to readers enduring the stresses of faltering personal relationships, Although, these challenges aren’t uncommon in life, what struck me was how each person was — underneath the issue they faced — suffering in their own way. Here are two examples …

Lisa, a 45-year-old lawyer had been with her company for more than 10 years. Professionally speaking, she was clearly successful, having been promoted 4 times and was now the organization’s general counsel. Yet, she was unhappy and, as she told me, tormented by a deep desire to do something else with her life that would provide more personal satisfaction as well as an income. Lisa was stuck and the angst she was feeling was getting in the way of her making progress. She felt she had no choice but to leave her company.

Rory was a 40-year-old Wall Street executive who had recently been laid off. He had made a handsome income, but was in no way well-to-do. His wife, who didn’t work, was divorcing him and had taken their two young children to live with her. Much of Rory’s savings was going to support his family. Rory had been rejected, professionally and personally. He was frightened. He felt paralyzed. Yet he knew he had to find a way to not give up hope; to somehow, “keep going.” 

For these individuals, palpable suffering was getting in the way of living. 

I believe that the worst thing you can do in the name of helping someone move forward is to gloss over their suffering as though it’s not there, or isn’t that important. The next worst thing you can do is to dwell on it. 

In my attempts to relieve suffering in my own small way, here is what I’ve learned and how it might help you or someone you know.

First, quiet the dragons

In Ancient Greek and other mythologies, dragons were fearsome, fire-breathing beasts that stood in the way of people and what they wanted. It’s tough to move forward when a dragon is in your path. It is tough to move forward when you are suffering.

To help someone move forward, start by simply listening, by bearing witness to their pain. Strive to understand their suffering. Let them vent. Have them speak of it, describe it and its impact. Not once, but two or three times, until its’ sting is lessened if not gone. If you can’t slay the dragon, at least quiet it.

Second, unearth your magic

In business today, there is much talk about what one’s “superpower” is — that singular talent that distinguishes you. These can include empathy, systems thinking, creativity, decisiveness, among many other traits. The idea is that if you can put your finger on your superpower, you’ll know how best to contribute to your team or organization. As its name suggests, one’s superpower contains a magic all its own.  

I find the idea of detecting one’s superpower amusing. If there is one superpower that eclipses all others, it is your identity — that unique combination of characteristics that reveals your potential for creating value in the world. Here are three illustrations: 1) to inspire renewal, 2) to create positive history, 3) to help people to see. Each is deceptively simple. Yet, as a framework for making a lasting contribution, each is powerful in its own right.

Third, blaze your trail

With the dragon quieted and your magic clear, it’s time to move forward, to circle back and address the original challenge with new insight and courage. 

Lisa left her role as a corporate attorney, but chose to stay with her company. She was put in charge of leading a merger integration effort that offered her the chance to deal with cultural as well as economic issues.

Rory found a job with a regional bank, has made peace with his ex-wife, and sees his children regularly. 

No storybook endings here. But the suffering that was blocking these individuals’ progress had receded enough to allow them to move on. 

What I have come to understand, is that on the other side of suffering lies freedom — the freedom to grow in ways that benefit others as well as yourself.  

Want to help relieve suffering in the world? Go small. 

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According to Webster’s, a goal is “the object of a person’s ambition or effort; an aim or desired result.” Operative word? Object; i.e., intent, or hoped-for outcome. As important as your goal may be, it is still possible to remain detached from it. It’s “out there,” on the horizon, waiting to be realized. Sometimes, we reach our goals. Sometimes, we don’t. When we do, we feel the thrill of achievement and when we don’t, we feel disappointed. Still, life goes on. 

But goals are nothing compared to promises. A promise is defined as “a declaration or assurance that one will do a particular thing or that a particular thing will happen.” The difference runs deep. While a goal can be viewed at arms-length, a promise cuts to the bone. It is a commitment, a covenant between you and someone else, or even with yourself. There is no room for ‘maybe.’ In the words of Yoda from Star Wars, “Do or do not. There is no try.” 

About a year ago, I read an article by James Hall, the editor of Bassmaster Magazine. (Yes, fishing is one of my passions.) The title of the article was I was wrong. The piece still haunts me. Here is a passage that explains why.

“My brother, Gary, used a tight-line technique with a weight. I used no weight and kept my line slack. I chided him, as only a 10-year-old could, for being “dumb.” We kept count that July and he beat me by more than a dozen fish. I was wrong and not happy about it.

We had grand plans this year to get together to re-create the fishing pursuits of our youth. We hadn’t fished together in a couple of years. I lived in Alabama; he lived in Texas. Work and trivial activities kept pushing aside our next fishing trip. Not this time. We would nail down a date and see it through. I thought this would become a tradition, something we could look forward to every year.

But, on March 1, 2021, I was again proven wrong. Gary had a heart attack in his sleep and, at age 51, was gone.

There seem to be countless secrets to a happy life, but I’ve only been smart enough to nail down one: Minimize regret. 

What would bring you heartbreak if not accomplished, assuming tomorrow never comes? I’m making a list. As for those items I no longer have control over, pushing aside one weekend over the past two years to meet Gary is at the top.”

Which brings me to the power of a promise. I recently heard a talk by Alex Sheen, founder of Because I said I would, which bills itself as a social movement and nonprofit dedicated to the betterment of humanity through promises made and kept. Alex is nothing short of inspiring in his passion for how promises create and deepen relationships, benefiting everyone involved. One of his most memorable comments was, “I don’t have to, I get to …” Feel free to fill in the blank: I get to take my child to school every day. I get to visit my ailing father once a week. I get to drive my best friend to work for a month while she recovers from an accident. What I learned from Alex is that making and keeping promises is a privilege that makes us larger in who we are.

The name of this newsletter (aka viewsletter) is Identity Insights. So, you might be asking, what does making promises have to do with identity? In short, everything. The promises you make are acts of integrity and integrity is at the root of identity. In a sense, your identity stands as a promise you make to others – about who you are and what you can be counted on to do and not do. I am Larry Ackerman and I promise to help people to see – to see the power of some actions and the futility of others. To see their innate potential as revealed by their identity. This is who I am and what I do.

Whether big or small, make promises that will matter to others and to yourself. Then, keep those promises before it’s too late. I promise I will.

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These words from George Steiner, a leading, French-born American literary critic, struck me as perfectly fitting for how we live today. Or don’t.

We live in chaotic times that ceaselessly demand our attention in a variety of ways. We’re bombarded by 24-hour news and opinion, delivered by rival outlets, whose commentators work to out-talk, if not out-shout, one another, hoping to hold our attention for as long as possible. We’re seduced by numerous streaming channels that make it easy to binge-watch all manner of shows without interruption. We’re lured onto social media platforms that find innumerable ways to keep our eyes glued to our phones. We’re stuck. 

Or are we? 

I read an article recently by Douglas Christie, a professor at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles, who studies the impact of silence and contemplation on people. When it comes to silence, Christie argues that most of us probably know the brittle, awkward kind of silence that comes up between two people after an argument. But what he’s getting at when he refers to silence, is a kind of patient attention, a receptivity that might emerge if we could simply shut up for five minutes, if we could resist the urge to fill every space with the sounds of me …

Silence isn’t social. That is, it doesn’t fit into the world of social media, which demands constant verbal as well as visual stimulation. Silence opens space for us to get to know ourselves beyond the labels we rely on to define who we are. What social media does, is cut us off from ourselves, reinforcing our attachment to those insidious labels, which put us into the pigeonholes we call identity.

Professor Christie continues by saying that anyone who tries to enter into a space of silence — meditation, sitting alone in a room, walking down a deserted path — can testify that when you begin, you soon find you’re out of your depth. You want something to happen and happen, quickly. The silence is all around you yet you can’t seem to get into it. You’re unaccustomed to silence and that’s uncomfortable. You miss the noise, which allows you to not think. Maybe even, not feel. Christie writes that the only thing to do is stay with it. 

Down with debating

Perhaps, the chaos we live in today is the result of no one hearing anyone anymore, except themselves and others whose labels make them acceptable. We debate endlessly about who’s right and wrong in terms of politics and culture. Yet, debate is often tedious because positions are already settled and nothing is going to change. The antidote to debate is dialogue, which is exploratory, provisional, give and take, opening us to new possibilities. 

Dialogue begins with silence, space in which we can learn to see who we are more clearly and others as well. It also takes courage, since dialogue calls for you to step out of well-established comfort zones, if only for the moment. Practically speaking, you learn nothing when you talk. So, silence becomes a pathway to knowledge. What you do with that knowledge is a separate question. If nothing else, silence makes you smarter.

Not surprisingly, there are countless quotes about silence. Here are five that speak to the wisdom of silence:

“What is it that stands higher than words? Action. What is it that stands higher than action? Silence.” St. Francis of Assisi

“Noise creates illusions. Silence brings truth.” Maxime Lagacé

“Silence is a source of great strength.” Lao Tzu

“The monotony and solitude of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind.” Albert Einstein

“A fool is known by his speech; and a wise man by silence.” Pythagoras

Finally, there is an expression that silence is the first language of God, words attributed to the sixteenth century Christian mystic, St. John of the Cross. I believe these words are, on some level, true and thus worth contemplating.

Let’s start a dialogue and begin by being silent, together.  

Shhhhh.

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Underneath this seeming impasse, however, there are profound similarities that transcend our declared differences and which make us kin. In short, most of us want the same thing: to make a contribution in the world and be rewarded for it in return. However you define it, we all want to attain a rich life.

(Don’t) sweat it.

Asking yourself whether your life will be rich is one of those questions that makes us sweat. Some people sweat from the anxiety that comes from simply not knowing the answer. Others sweat from the burning hope that, maybe someday, they will make it big, cash in, hit the jackpot. Any reference to “rich” instantly conjures up images of money and the things money can buy. These things can range from luxury cars and fancy homes, to fine educations for our children and, perhaps most of all, to the supposed freedom from worry being rich implies…

Still others sweat because they realize that if they stick to the course they’re on, the answer to the question, will my life be rich? will, probably, be no. Their well-meaning efforts to protect what they’ve accumulated, or to acquire more of it, have taken over their lives. Along with their jobs, their days are governed by “to-do” lists, mortgages, tuition payments, soccer games, lawn mowing, bake sales, dance recitals, church suppers, and on and on. Despite the satisfaction many of these experiences may bring, they have squeezed out any hope of giving voice to the deeper passions that keep us alive inside, as the individuals we are.

People are sweating the wrong things. For all the time you invest in trying to “know” how things will turn out in your life, what actually happens in the future remains a mystery. For all the effort you may put into getting rich in financial terms, unforeseen circumstances can derail your dream. For all the energy you invest in owning up to the fact that you’ve left no room in your life for you, regret will accomplish nothing.

What is worth sweating is whether you do right by yourself and others. This sequence – first, you and then other people – is deliberate. It is only when you build relationships that reflect who you are at your core that you can “do right” by others. Your identity — the unique contribution you’re capable of making — is the living lens through which you can most confidently make informed decisions, engage the world, and thereby, fashion a life that you and others can believe in.

It is also worth sweating how you define rich. There is nothing wrong with money. Yet, as much as wealth may be about money, it is equally about those things that, like a magnet, draw people to you — and you to them — over and over again. For instance, the love you share with family and friends, the heart-felt recognition you receive from co-workers that fuels your determination to redouble your efforts at whatever you did to win that recognition in the first place.

Here today, here tomorrow

The idea of attaining a “rich life” is an invitation for you to decide what truly matters. What are the things that, when combined, will add up to a life you will be proud to call your own? In this vein, it’s also worth sweating what your legacy will be. Will the commitments you make and the actions you take today leave people better off because you were here? The question, will my life be rich? isn’t just about today; it is equally about tomorrow. It is about how you will be remembered and what you will be remembered for.

Here are a few simple steps you can take to build a rich life through the lens of your identity:

Clarify what “rich” means to you. Consider every aspect of your life in terms of the relationships that frame it. Write down the “ideal state” for each of these relationships – how you envision each might change, if it were fully informed by your identity. What would be different? What would stay the same?

• Your relationship with work — your job, your colleagues, your career
• Your relationship with your partner, or spouse
• Your relationship with your family
• Your relationship with your friends
• Your relationship with your community

It is intriguing to think about how our irreconcilable differences might fade, at least a bit, if we were to talk in terms of the rich lives we want to build, rather than the lives we want to tear down. We all work (or did). We all have, or seek a life partner. We all have families and friends whom we rely on, just as they rely on us. It would be no surprise if what we aspired to create in each of these vital relationships were uncannily similar.

We should start there.

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In the 1999 movie, Analyze This, Billy Chrystal plays a psychiatrist who’s treating a mafia boss.There’s a scene with a meeting of mob bosses, where Billy Chrystal unexpectedly shows up and sits in for his patient. Surprised, one of the other bosses asks him, Who are you? He answers: “Who am I? Who am I? Oh, that’s a question for the ages!” 

Call it cosmic, unknowable, confusing, headache-inducing, or just plain tough to answer, who am I? is a question which has been asked, in various ways, by everyone from great philosophers such as Plato and Aristotle to decidedly not-so-famous people: that jumble of “regular folk” who make their lives in the far-flung cities, towns and villages we call home. Asking the question, who am I? makes kin of us all…

Today, the question has become a cultural lightning rod, touching gender, race, politics and religion among other categories we dip into to help define ourselves and others. None of these categories, however, helps clarify your identity. Instead, they distort its true meaning and power — that to know who you are is to know why you are here, and, in turn, what to do, what not to do, and why.

You might ask yourself, am I not a Jones, a Stern, a Tanaka? – the child of a good family? Am I not a loyal Christian, a pious Jew, a devout Muslim? Am I not American? Or, Turkish? Or Indian? Am I not a successful Black female ballet dancer? At least, a hard-working plumber? Is this not enough? If not, who am I then?

You may be any combination of these things. But none of these descriptions answers the question, who am I? That is because, despite their importance in how you define yourself, these labels serve to mask, rather than reveal, who you are at your core. In short, you are not your labels; you are simply you.

Answering the question, who am I?, brings with it the promise of affirmation – nothing less than the awakening of your spirit. It is no great feat to verify that you exist in physical terms. Your five senses do that for you, automatically. It is something else entirely to experience yourself as self-aware and fully awake.

Experiencing this confirmation of your self is prelude to everything else you will learn and do in relation to your life. Once you have found this feeling, you’ll be ready to discover what makes you unique as an individual and the potential it holds for how you engage with the world.

What’s the way forward?

The way to know who you are is by first defining yourself as separate from all others. Within the context of identity, separation isn’t about being physically or emotionally remote from people – physical separation isn’t especially difficult to achieve and emotional connections are essential for strong relationships.

Separation is about putting some healthy distance between yourself and other people so you can step back and see, really see, yourself within the context of your relationships. How are you different from your best friend, your brother, mother, or your boss, in terms of your personality, your values and talents? Answering these questions is an exercise in clarifying boundaries that mark turf belonging just to you, no matter how close you are to others.

What you’re looking for in separation is independence – the ability to think and act on your own and in your own best interests, despite what others may expect of you. Defining yourself as separate from others is about finding your own integrity as an individual.

What’s possible?

If more people knew their true identities, it’s likely that we’d all be better off. Families might show greater regard for one another as individuals. Teams would function more effectively, taking advantage of each member’s distinctive strengths. Organizations might hire more of the right people for the right reasons. Individuals, like you and me, might simply sleep more soundly at night.

Who are you? People want to know.

The post Who am I? appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

With good reason, companies today are increasingly seeking to put a stake in the ground that illuminates what they’re all about, why they’re here, apart from the need to make money. Getting this right is a powerful force that can, like a magnet, help attract and hold the right people for the right reasons, improve customer loyalty, and even draw investors, whose time horizons are well beyond the next quarter. Many books and articles have been written that assert seemingly critical differences among various kinds of company statements and, further, how to craft each one. These include mission, vision, purpose, brand, and identity statements. An online review offers these general descriptions:

A mission defines what an organization is, why it exists, its reason for being

A vision isfuture-based and is meant to inspire and give direction to employees

A brand is your promise to customers and other stakeholders, derived from who you are, and who you want to be 

Purpose is the driving force that enables a company to define its true brand and create its desired culture

Identity clarifies who you are as an organization, and what distinguishes the company 

Allowing for a few differences, these descriptions are largely the same. They all potentially represent a company’s “north star,” pointing the way forward in a manner that is designed to guide decisions and behavior. Here’s a statement that, with a few, small word changes (or none at all), conforms to all of these descriptions, equally well. It is Ikea’s stated mission: To create a better everyday life for the many people. The company’s declaration effortlessly translates as follows:

… As its vision: A better everyday life for the many people

… As its brand promise: To create a better everyday life for the many people

… As its purpose: To create a better everyday life for the many people

… As its identity: An organization dedicated to creating a better everyday life for the many people 

Clarifying the logic of one 

There is simply no good reason a company must have a mission, a purpose, a brand promise, and a vision, or even two of these. One will do. And, one type of company statement is not more important than any of the others. What matters most is that whatever statement you select be informed by the unique contribution your company is capable of making in the world; i.e., how it creates proprietary value. 

There are three other criteria worth mentioning. Your company’s north star needs to be distinctive – it is about your company and yours alone. It needs to be authentic – it cannot be fabricated, or invented; it can only be discovered. It must be sustainable – it has to have the bones to be nearly timeless, despite how often you may need to express it differently to maintain its relevance.

In short, less is more. Employees have enough to do without having to memorize, let alone help operationalize, two, three, or four separate ideas. Make it easier for them to succeed: Simplify! What label you choose is far less important than the substance of the statement you embrace.

Eighteen months after the Dow engagement began, the company replaced three of its original statements with one: To constantly improve what is essential to human progress by mastering science and technology, and modified its values to support this mission. The result helped employees put their collective energy into one, value-creating idea that inspired innovation and commitment, and helped produce the economic, social and environmental benefits Dow’s stakeholders deserved.

If you’re in the market for a mission or a (fill in the blank), keep the following criteria in mind. 

Make sure how your company creates proprietary value is the foundation of that statement.

One statement is enough.

Ensure that your statement is distinctive, authentic and sustainable.

Your employees will thank you. Executive communications will be streamlined. Conversations will be more focused. Expectations will be clearer. The connection between company mission and individual jobs will be easier to make. Accountability will be enhanced. 

When it comes to forging a compelling north star for your organization, the above measures are the only ones you really need. Then the real work begins: how to translate that north star into decisions and actions that will illustrate its power and prove its intrinsic worth. (Stay tuned; that topic is coming up next.)

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