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!

The post Imagine that! appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

In short, he is not hopeful that AI’s benefits will outweigh its potential drawbacks. Murphy writes that “a fraud is being perpetuated on the American people and our pliant, gullible political leaders. The leaders of the artificial intelligence industry in the United States are rapacious in their desire to build wealth and power, comfortable knowingly putting aside the destructive power of their product, and claim that any meaningful regulation of AI in America will allow China to leapfrog the United States to control the world’s AI infrastructure.”

What is most insidious in my eyes aren’t the geopolitics of AI; it is something much more personal to all of us …

… the idea, stated here that “fake video and audio, without accountability or legal liability, could obliterate any notion of objective truth. The social isolation crisis that already exists, especially for American teens, could be set on fire by AI chatbots and ‘friendship programs’ in which Mark Zuckerberg wants to replace human friends with robot friends. (Really!) Murphy continues: The substitution of essential human functions – like composition, creativity and conversation – by machines will likely lead to incalculable spiritual atrophy.”

The title to Senator Murphy’s piece ends with these words: “…we risk losing ourselves.” The thought is positively chilling. Who are we if not, first and foremost, ourselves? The idea of being able to create a fabricated human “being,” even, if just on a screen, strikes me as a Godless act that in its own right, and multiplied millions of times, is a recipe for widespread social dysfunction. Such a wave would undermine the very meaning of trust. How can I trust you, if what I see and hear in front of me may not be true at all?

Some years ago, I wrote a newsletter entitled I am who I say I am! (Maybe not). It was my attempt to call out the emerging dangers of social media, which were leading young people to fabricate “identities” online that, unwittingly, pulled them away from their natural selves, stretching the band of credibility, sometimes to the breaking point. It was written well in advance of the AI movement, which now exponentially increases the risks I cited.

What keeps me up at night is another fact of online life, which Sherry Turkle, an MIT professor, describes this way. She says that Facebook and Twitter (now X) give us the power to “present the self we want to be,” carefully tailoring our status updates and retouching photos of ourselves. Or worse: creating identities that aren’t real at all.  It’s a slippery slope. What starts out as fun, morphs into fantasy, which may no longer be tethered to reality. And then what?

Amid all the pressing challenges AI poses to the human experience, there is good news. It is rooted in the true nature of human identity. I am not referring to your social position, your religion, sexual orientation, or gender, or parental status, or your work or any other affiliation you may embrace to help define yourself. As important as these associations may be, none of them explains who you are, at your core – your fundamental identity. What makes you, you are those unique characteristics that define your potential for making a special contribution in the world, something that springs naturally from the substance of your being, transcending the labels we use to locate ourselves in the world.

With this in mind, the only way we can “lose ourselves,” as Senator Murphy warns, is if we forget, ignore, or try to abandon our innate identities. Consider your identity to be an impenetrable fortress against the onslaught of the many and growing dangers AI brings, a sturdy keel in stormy waters.

There is no person walking this planet who doesn’t have the capacity to live through his or her identity. You are the one who matters. You are where the world begins. Remember that you are inviolable. No one, no matter how ‘intelligent’, can take your identity away from you. AI will never be able to replace, diminish, or change who you are. No one, nothing, can make you be someone you are not.

As AI complicates life – at times confusing it and at times clarifying it – know that your identity is the one true thing you can count on and that it is eternal.

Never lose sight of who you are.

The post In the age of AI, your identity is the only truth you can count on appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

A friend of mine recently told me that, at least for a while, he was “going small.” He could no longer stomach what was happening here in America – the rage, the grievances, the gloating of the winners; the self-righteousness, the blaming, the myopia of the losers. He was going to do the only thing that made sense to him: Care for himself, his family, his friends, the people he loved and who loved him back, no matter their particular brand of politics.

The idea of going small right now is bathed in wisdom.

Whether your side won or lost, you owe it to yourself to simply focus on the little things that, taken together, are in fact the essence of living.

With this in mind, another friend just sent me a short article by Elizabeth Gilbert, who wrote the bestselling memoir, Eat, Pray, Love. It describes the basic character of what it means to “go small.” Read it here and you will grasp the meaning of the title of this newsletter …

 “Some years ago, I was stuck on a crosstown bus in New York City during rush hour. Traffic was barely moving. The bus was filled with cold, tired people who were deeply irritated with one another, with the world itself. Two men barked at each other about a shove that might or might not have been intentional. A pregnant woman got on, and nobody offered her a seat. Rage was in the air; no mercy would be found here.

 But as the bus approached Seventh Avenue, the driver got on the intercom. ‘Folks,’ he said, ‘I know you have had a rough day and you are frustrated. I can’t do anything about the weather or traffic, but here is what I can do. As each one of you gets off the bus, I will reach out my hand to you. As you walk by, drop your troubles into the palm of my hand, okay? Don’t take your problems home to your families tonight, just leave them with me. My route goes right by the Hudson River, and when I drive there later, I will open the window and throw your troubles in the water.’

 It was as if a spell had lifted. Everyone burst out laughing. Faces gleamed with surprised delight. People who had been pretending for the past hour not to notice each other’s existence were suddenly grinning at each other like, is this guy serious?

 At the next stop, just as promised, the driver reached out his hand, palm up, and waited. One by one, all the exiting commuters placed their hand just above his and mimed the gesture of dropping something into his palm. Some people laughed as they did this, some teared up but everyone did it. The driver repeated the same lovely ritual at the next stop, too. And the next. All the way to the river.

 We live in a hard world, my friends. Sometimes it is extra difficult to be a human being. Sometimes you have a bad day. Sometimes you have a bad day that lasts for several years. You struggle and fail. You lose jobs, money, friends, faith, and love. You witness horrible events unfolding in the news, and you become fearful and withdrawn. There are times when everything seems cloaked in darkness. You long for the light but don’t know where to find it.

 But what if you are the light? What if you are the very agent of illumination that a dark situation begs for? That’s what this bus driver taught me, that anyone can be the light, at any moment. This guy wasn’t some big power player. He wasn’t a spiritual leader. He wasn’t some media-savvy influencer. He was a bus driver, one of society’s most invisible workers. But he possessed real power, and he used it beautifully for our benefit.

 When life feels especially grim, or when I feel particularly powerless in the face of the world’s troubles, I think of this man and ask myself, what can I do, right now, to be the light? Of course, I can’t personally end all wars, or solve global warming, or transform vexing people into entirely different creatures. I definitely can’t control traffic. But I do have some influence on everyone I brush up against, even if we never speak or learn each other’s name.

 No matter who you are, or where you are, or how mundane or tough your situation may seem, I believe you can illuminate your world. In fact, I believe this is the only way the world will ever be illuminated, one bright act of grace at a time, all the way to the river.”

Thank you, Elizabeth Gilbert, for these elegant words.

And, so, are you the light? If you choose to be, you are.

May your Thanksgiving be bathed in light.

Have you ever had a moment when you felt like you were the light in someone’s life? Share your story in the comments below!

The post What if you are the light? appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

Note: In March 2016, 6 months before the presidential election, I published the first version of this article. Now, 8 years later, the topic is even more pressing, even more distressing. I have made several changes to make it current.

It’s the season when birds start to look south, their songs still with us, but fewer and, perhaps, a bit less intense than they were in the spring. With that in mind, I know you’re all dying to know how it is that birds are able to fly. So, here’s the answer:  Birds use their strong breast muscles to flap their wings to give them the thrust they need to move through the air. Further, birds use a swimming-forward motion to get the lift they need to fly. 

Naturally, both wings need to move in unison to achieve lift-off and sustain flight. It doesn’t take much to imagine the flight path of a bird whose wings are working against each other, pulling (or pushing) in different directions, or flapping at different speeds. The chance of actually breaking a wing (or two) becomes a distinct possibility. 

Welcome to America…

Today, we have a right wing that is stretching as far to the right as possible. This wing is advocating attitudes and preaching policies that are fueled by fear, my-way-or-the-highway injunctions and exclusionary imperatives. These imperatives are clear in the words of Donald Trump and other MAGA Republicans.

We also have a left wing that is stretching as far to the left as possible. This wing is advocating attitudes and preaching policies that are excessive in their idealism and economically suspect – in short, polyannaish to a fault. For all his sincerity and seeming love of America, Joe Biden’s policies tended to give away the store in the name of helping everyone, all at once. Blank-check diplomacy, at home and abroad, is simply unsustainable. Where Kamala Harris comes out on economic priorities, as well as on other vital, U.S. interests has yet to be determined.

What is distressing, is that each wing believes it holds the answer to what America’s real identity is. “We” really are a red nation, whose fundamental values are deeply conservative. “We” really are a blue nation, whose fundamental values are rooted in progressive ideals.

“We” are neither. In the midst of this turmoil, I keep asking myself: But, what about the bird? What about America, the nation? The institution? Is our essential identity really all about the wings?

Who are we now?

For nearly 250 years, Democracy has been the wind beneath our wings, both of them. Yet today, America-the-bird is struggling to stay aloft thanks to the frantic tug-of-war between its wings and, in turn, the fate of democracy may be on the line. In fact, America-the-bird is hobbled, laboring under the weight of its’ wings. And, so, its’ flight path is indeterminable and dangerously out of control.

The eagle is no longer soaring.

I imagine the sound of that magnificent bird, its’ high-pitched, prolonged, gull-like peal, crying out to be made whole again, its two wings brought more into synch with one another in an effort to set it on a once-again, more powerful and stable trajectory.

Does the bird have a soul?

I believe it does. And if you’d like to comprehend it, I recommend reading the finest book I have ever come across about what it means to be America – The American Soul by Jacob Needleman.

The founders of our country, Needleman argues, conceived of an “inner democracy” – a continual pursuit of wisdom and self-improvement that would undergird the outer democracy in which we live today.  We have lost touch with that inner democracy. It lies in despair, abandoned and ignored by both wings. And it is the bird who is suffering.

We are suffering.

What now?

Politics, in my view, is a desperate game. It is ironic that politics is killing the very body that it purports to represent. The soul of America is not right wing or left wing. It is at once both and neither. I view America as exasperatingly, imperfectly human and yet exquisitely beautiful, bigger and more potent than either one of its wings. But America’s soul – its’ defining identity – has, for the moment, been lost to those wings.

If you know of a candidate, a party more interested in protecting the bird than its wings, let me know. He or she, somehow, will get my vote. And my prayers.

Have a view? Peck out a few words and let me know what you think.

The post …But what about the bird? (v.2) appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

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.

Mortality  

On the day I die a lot will happen. A lot will change.

The world will be busy.

On the day I die, all the important appointments I made will be left unattended.

The many plans I had yet to complete will remain forever undone.

The calendar that ruled so many of my days will now be irrelevant to me.

All the material things I so chased and guarded and treasured will be left in the hands of others to care for or discard.

The words of my critics which so burdened me will cease to sting or capture anymore. They will be unable to touch me…

The arguments I believed I’d won will not serve me or bring me any satisfaction or solace.

All my noisy incoming notifications and texts and calls will go unanswered. Their great urgency will be quieted.

My many nagging regrets will all be resigned to the past, where they should always have been anyway.

Every superficial worry about my body that I ever labored over; about my waistline or hairline or frown lines, will fade away.

My carefully crafted image, the one I worked so hard to shape for others, will be left to them to complete.

The sterling reputation I once struggled so greatly to maintain will be of little concern for me anymore.

All the small and large anxieties that stole sleep from me each night will be rendered powerless.

The deep and towering mysteries about life and death that so consumed my mind will finally be clarified in a way that they could never be before, while I lived.

These things will certainly all be true on the day that I die.

Yet for as much as will happen on that day, one more thing will happen.

On the day I die, the few people who really know and truly love me will grieve deeply.

They will feel a void.

They will feel cheated.

They will not feel ready.

They will feel as though a part of them has died as well.

And on that day, more than anything in the world they will want more time with me.

I know this from those I love and grieve over.

And so knowing this, while I am still alive, I’ll try to remember that my time with them is finite and fleeting and so very precious—and I’ll do my best not to waste a second of it.

I’ll try not to squander a priceless moment, worrying about all the other things that will happen on the day I die, because many of those things are either not my concern or beyond my control.

Friends, those other things have an insidious way of keeping you from living even as you live; vying for your attention, competing for your affections.

They rob you of the joy of this unrepeatable, uncontainable, ever-evaporating ‘Now’ with those who love you and want only to share it with you.

Don’t miss the chance to dance with them while you can.

It’s easy to waste so much daylight in the days before you die.

Don’t let your life be stolen every day by all that you’ve been led to believe matters. Because on the day you die—the fact is, that much of it simply won’t.

But before that day comes, let us live.

I tried hard to find out who this David Reed is, but no success. There are many David Reeds out there. If I could identify this man, I would reach out to thank him for his profoundly powerful and exquisitely beautiful insights. 

And, true to his words, I would want to get to know him, so I could count him among the friends who might miss me — or perhaps I, him — when one of us passes, unexpectedly.

Thank you, David Reed. I am moved by your words. Maybe, those who are reading this article, will be too.

The post Thank you, David Reed appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

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.

The post Promises, promises appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

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.

In my last Viewsletter, I referred to the Book of Joy, published in 2016, which condenses a week’s worth of discussions between Archbishop Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama into a compendium of wisdom. In today’s complicated world, I believe it’s worth looking at joy, once again, not just as the theme of a book, or even an emotion; but, as a framework for living that can help us weather the storm we’re all in.

With that in mind, I’ve taken the conversation about joy beyond Archbishop Tutu and the Dalai Lama to include other luminaries and near-luminaries, whose words add texture, depth, and color to the subject.

Here are eight quotations, which speak to each of the pillars of joy described in the book and what I see as the meaning of the quote…

1 Perspective

“If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden.”

― Frances Hodgson Burnett

It is. The question is whether it’s filled with flowers or weeds. Underneath perspective lies choice. We choose to see what’s there, or what isn’t. As hard as it is at times, I choose to see flowers.

2 Humility

A great man is always willing to be little.”

― Ralph Waldo Emerson

I don’t believe there are many great men, today, which is unfortunate. We need more of them: great men and great women, to stand as role models for all of us. I believe humility is fueled by true self-confidence and stoked by courage; the courage to let go of the ego that keeps us tethered to insecurity. There is power in a humble voice, because it acts like a magnet, drawing us to it, closer and closer, until we can finally hear what is being said. Sometimes, it’s big to be small. 

3  Humor

“There is more logic in humor than in anything else. Because, you see, humor is truth.”

— Victor Borge

And, the truth hurts. Does that mean that pain is funny? I don’t believe so. I do believe that the truth, when pointed in our direction, is a mirror of our imperfections as human beings. If we can find humor in our imperfections, if we can find the strength to laugh at ourselves, our ability to navigate life sharpens. That’s not funny; it’s true.

4 Acceptance

“The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”

― Maya Angelou

It is a special place, that home, and it is hard to find, but it is there, always there. That home is your identity, that soft rock at the center of all things human. That home is no less than your sanctuary, where you can be — must be — simply, you. There is no rent or mortgage to pay. The only obligation is to pay attention. Safe home.

5 Forgiveness

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”

― Mahatma Gandhi

How big are your muscles? I’m still working on mine. Forgiveness is a two-edged sword. On one hand it is liberating, like cleaning out a closet long overrun by useless stuff. On the other hand, part of what you’re clearing out is the pain you’ve kept alive by not forgiving. Forgiveness frees you from pain, allowing you to fly.

6 Gratitude

“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.”

― Epicurus

Contrary to the popular saying, the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. Nor, is it really worth keeping up with the Joneses. Especially, today. Gratitude costs nothing. If you’re loved, if you are healthy, if you can eat, sleep, and peer into the eyes of nature from behind your mask, be grateful. More isn’t necessarily more.

7 Compassion

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.”

― Leo Buscaglia

Compassion is like a magic act that amazes in its seeming impossibility. Yet, we choose to accept it because it moves us. It causes us to suspend disbelief and marvel at its power to make us believe. I am always heartened when I can offer a random act of kindness that lift someone up, even a little. The joy in the voice of the hospital coordinator, whom I called simply to say thank you for helping me cut through red tape. The weekly dollar I gave to the guy at the corner of Madison and 49^th Street, who nods his head in appreciation. What he does with that dollar doesn’t matter. I try.

8 Generosity

“You have not lived until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.”

― John Bunyan

I see compassion and generosity as kissin’ cousins. They are two sides of the same coin. Both call for giving without asking for something in return. ‘Live generously’ is an expression I learned from a friend whose successful career reflects this idea. I believe there is a mountain of gold waiting for you, when you do something for someone, simply, because they need it; no ulterior motive, no tit-for-tat, no negotiated, mutual back-scratching. Just, because. Live generously.

Do any of these quotes move you? If so, please weigh in. Let people know what joy means to you.

The post What does joy mean to you? appeared first on Larry Ackerman.