Opening my e-mail, I smiled. I always feel good when I hear from my daughter, Anastasia. She’s in Hollywood chasing her dream by working on the production of a feature film.

As I read her correspondence, my smile turned to a chuckle, albeit a compassionate chuckle.

“Dad,

I made a horrible mistake at work that rippled over to the Executive Producer and supervisors and Assistant Director's...and it was my entire fault. I feel terrible. I faxed the wrong map to the extras casting company so 200 extras went to the wrong location this morning. Needless to say, everyone is talking about how I screwed up. So my day is not going that well.

And yours?

Annie”

I laughed out loud at my daughter’s comedic timing with her closing line, “And yours?”

I’ll bet my dear daughter’s popularity soared to the top of 200 standing-in-the-rain extras’ you-know-what list. I wrote back offering a fathers suggestions.

“Annie,

First things first. Don't be too hard on yourself, you are merely human and humans make mistakes. Especially humans who are sick. (She had the flu and a cold) I suggest you de-dramatize the event, and if you haven't already done so, tell your boss you made a mistake, you're responsible for it; you're sorry. Most of all, forget about everyone talking about it. People talk, your mistake gives others something to chuckle about and that’s cool. Remember, you can start your day over right now.

I love you,

Dad

I fired off the email, but Annie was already in action.

She emailed:

“Dad,

I called and apologized to the 2nd AD (assistant director) and makeup artist who was screaming and wrote an email to the executive producer and production supervisor who were both angry. I said I was responsible for the error and was sorry my actions caused a negative reflection upon all of us.

Annie”

It was one of those moments. I couldn’t be prouder of my daughter. She’d made a mistake, stood tall, accepted sole responsibility for it and apologized. Annie had added more integrity to her character.

It’s sad how difficult it is for so many people to say “I was wrong.” or, “I made a mistake.” It’s equally amazing how ingrained it is in so many of us to immediately blame others for something that’s gone ayre.

Why?

Could it be those old pictures of fear-based beliefs that if you admit you’ve made a mistake you will lose something? That’s you’ll lose a friend, a job, a partner, perhaps the acceptance from others? Or, that you will be exposed for being “less than” —less than perfect, an expert in your field, a perfect wife or husband?

All of those fears, denials based on old pictures—dark negative pictures— fill your closet with skeletons, skeletons that hold you hostage from feeling free.

New pictures, as so wonderfully demonstrated by my daughter, are rich, nourishing, freeing acts that feed inner happiness.

Is it time for some new pictures in your life?

* * *

Save $4.50 on Jerry’s latest book, “Life is a Joke and God Wrote it!” Regularly $19.50 now $15.00 total. Clip this portion of the column and send $15.00 to PO Box 121, Bloomfield Hills, MI 48303. To receive a weekly proactive thought from Jerry, send your email address to www.jerrystanecki.com.

The two-bit kid brings an important message to life today
©2005 Jerry Stanecki

For just two bits, one quarter of a dollar, a 31 years old Taylor, Mi. man brought a touch of common sense to an over reactive society.

Surrounded by cheering Piston fans, Dennis Pauley had an impulsive

thought. Sitting about 15 rows from where Allen Iverson of the hapless Philadelphia 76ers was, Pauley flipped a quarter at Iverson, scoring two points as the coin bounced off Iverson’s back.

Before you could say Mississippi, a security guard was standing over Pauley who had a dumb “What me?” look on his face and I swear you could hear the chant in the distance, “Cru-ci-fy him, cru-ci-fy him.”

Pauley and his buddy, Michael Roberts were arrested and charged with being in a seat they didn’t have a ticket for. Pauley’s two bits worth also brought a charge of throwing an object onto the playing surface.

When released from custody, abandoned by his buddies, Pauley said he walked from the Palace of Auburn Hills to 12 mile and Telegraph (about 15 miles) where he caught a bus about 6 a.m.

“Did he really walk that?” I asked his father, Bill.

“ I guess so, cause he could hardy walk today. I asked why he didn’t call me,” Bill continued, “and he said he was too embarrassed, too ashamed.”

By late morning, TV camera crews and reporters were all over Bill Pauley’s lawn even though Dennis doesn’t live there.

“ I called a friend of his and told ‘em if he saw Dennis, tell him to get over here,” Bill Pauley said.

“Who’s idea was it for him to say what he said? “ I asked Bill.

“He told me what he was gonna say, and I said 'that sounds good.’”

Dennis, now a nervous wreck says dad, walked out into the yard and in front of the TV cameras.

“I want to apologize to Allen Iverson, and apologize to the Philly basketball team and the city of Auburn Hills and all the fans, and apologize to my family, most of all, for embarrassing them and also embarrassing myself, too."

Can you believe this kid? The nerve of him. Whoever heard of making a mistake and accepting responsibility for it? What’s wrong with him?

But, wait a minute. What might have happened if, when President Clinton, caught with his pants down, he would have said: “ I’m sorry, I made a mistake, I was wrong.”

Millions of dollars wouldn’t have been wasted investigating him, and a lot of jobs that needed to be done, would have gotten done.

Or, President Bush. “ There are no weapons of mass destruction, I was wrong.”

Two years worth of investigating by about 1,000 people and $300 million dollars would have not been wasted.

Kwame Kilpatrick? “Yeah, I ordered a Navigator, I made a mistake.”

So, a 31 year old man with a drinking problem, according to his dad,

no job and no place to live, stands up, terrified in the face of adversity and accepts responsibility for his action.

Punish him?

I think we need to thank him, and our so-called moral leaders might just want to take a tip from the kid.

-0-

Save $4.50 on the purchase of Jerry’s book, "Life is a Joke and God wrote it,” send $15.00 to P.O.Box 121 Bloomfield Hills, MI 48303. To receive a weekly proactive thought, or, to contact Jerry, send email through www.jerrystanecki.com

Time to hang up on the stupid idea of cell phones on airplanes
©2005Jerry Stanecki

“Hello. HELLO. You’re breaking up,” the woman was shouting into the cell phone. WHAT? Yes, I can hear you. You’re kidding.”

I jerked into a straight upright position like someone snapped my you-know-what with a wet towel.

“No, I told you no, I will not allow you to do that. Do you understand, Travis?” It was another woman, an irritated irritating woman sounding like she was talking to a child and she was getting louder. “Do you HEAR ME? ONE …TWO…”

Good God almighty, we’d been in the air for an hour, an hour of constant, aggravating, incessant cell babble.
“What are you wearing?” the sloppy fat man across the aisle sweating profusely said into his cell phone.

No it couldn’t be.

“ You are? Whoa, baby. Now, tell me what you’re doing with your right…“

Ugh, it was.

The dirty old man across the aisle was having phone ---well, you know, smack dab in the middle of an A300 commercial airliner. His face was beet red and he was, I swear, wheezing,

I pushed my earplugs in tighter as a wave of nausea swept over me.

Just about asleep when an elbow hits me in the side. The woman next me unwrapped a giant size Snickers.

I smelled onions and chili, mustard and catsup. Behind me a guy is eating three Coney’s’ jammed full of raw onion to the point that you can’t see the actual hotdogs. There was mustard and chili dripping down onto the front of his T-shirt that said, “Life ‘s a wiener.”

The coup-de-grace came when the woman next to me snapped open a can of sardines soaked in oil.

The odiferous smorgasbord was gagging me. For the first time ever, I reached for the barf bag.

Part of what you’ve just read, is indeed part of today’s reality in air travel. Jammed into seats, loaded like cattle in a boxcar, we now have to endure the stink of a half a dozen foods because the airline wanted to save money and stopped serving food. The airlines neglected to say that the cost of that food had been included in your ticket.

Now, it’s less service, more stench.

Adding insult to injury, the misguided Federal Communications Commission is unbelievably considering allowing people to use cell phones while the planes are in flight. Part of this column gave you an idea of the nightmare of noise.

Let’s face it. We are not a considerate, polite society. Generally, we do not consider others when it comes to talking on a cell phone. It’s like we want to share with the world how important our conversation is, no matter how rude it is.

Please, fight the idiocy of allowing loud cell phone use in the little quiet air travel that remains.

Tell the FCC commissioners “ NO cell phone on airplanes”

Write: FCC 445 12th Street SW, Washington, DC 20554, call, 1-888-225-5322, or e-mail fccinfo@fcc.gov

*; *

A little ayin toward avodah brings peace and a feeling good
©Jerry Stanecki 2005

I opened the email and was shocked. It was a nasty, condescending message from a business associate accusing me of hanging up on an employee of his. On top of it, he was talking down to me.

I fired off a reply saying I did not do what he so tactlessly accused me of and that I found his message offensive and highly inflammatory.

An hour later, after realizing after thinking about it, I sent another message to him. “Did it occur to you to simply ask if this happened before accusing and demanding?”

The next morning my friend Eric called. Still irritated by the e-mail—yes, I know, I was letting it live in my life rent free— I told Eric about it.

As the universe works, so goes my life, but only when I am willing and humble enough to be open to, and embrace the gifts sent.

“I’m reading about ayin to achieve avodah,” Eric said.

“What’s that got to do with this?” I said. “Besides, what are you talking about with this ayim? It sounds like Popeye. You know, ‘Iyam what Iyam.’”

‘It’s spelled ayin,” Eric said and laughed explaining that he was reading “Mindful Jewish Living —Compassionate Practice.

“Ayin is nothingness or egoless. It’s learning the practice of striving for treating others in a spiritual, self-less way.”

What Eric was talking about was simple.

I hadn’t hung up on the employee, but that didn’t matter. She thought I did, and her feelings were hurt. Yes, she might be oversensitive, but that wasn’t the point when it came to me. Whether she, or I, was right or wrong was not the question. If I was to achieve the joy of inner peace. If I was to achieve avodah, I needed to put aside my ego-driven need to be right.

“But, if I called and apologized for something I didn’t do, it would be an admission of guilt,” I told Eric.

“No, it would be an act of kindness in getting out-of-self and saying sorry for the misunderstanding, and that your (the employee) feelings were hurt,” he answered.

Bingo, it made sense.

I called her and explained that I had not intentionally hung up on her, which wasn’t important, I said. What was important, I told the employee, was that her feelings were hurt and I wanted her to clearly understand that I would never intentionally do anything to hurt her feelings. I added that I was sorry for the misunderstanding.

She appreciated my call and thanked me.

That’s when I slammed the phone down on her. Of course, I’m kidding.

What happened next was amazing. I felt instant relief from the stress the whole situation was causing me. My anger toward her boss disappeared, because he didn’t matter. What did was, I had acted in a spiritual self-less way, a way I would want someone else to treat me and I felt good about it.

I like this avodah stuff.

Courage doesn’t come easy and sometimes victory isn’t sweet

©Jerry Stanecki

A friend started to tell of an experience he had at a 12-step recovery meeting. It had to do with self pity; you know, my problem is always bigger then yours.

I protested, “ But, isn’t it violating anonymity if you tell me?”

It wasn’t, he said, because he had changed names. He felt it was such a powerful example of a problem a lot of folks struggle with, that it was important to share the story.

We sat there drinking coffee as he told the story of a young man struggling to stay sober, and a middle aged man who had found meaning and strength.

* * *

With killer good looks of a young Brando, the 22 year old sat there. Black hair, dark eyes filled with anxiety, the man was shaking slightly as he sat in the church basement on a cold October Saturday night.

“My name is Mike; I’m an addict.” He said. “ I’m here tonight because I really want to drink, I mean, I feel it in my heart. I worked 100 hours this week and I just want to go out and drink until I pass out.”

Mike explained that he had been straight and sober for six months------this time. Twice before, he had relapsed, and the last time had made a promise to himself to stay straight----but promises are easily broken when it comes to addiction.

“ A couple of friends called and asked me to go out drinking tonight,” he said, “Instead, I came here because I’m so afraid.”

What Mike wasn’t understanding, my friend explained, was the fear that comes with not being “in the now.” Mike wasm afraid he would fail. But, by being there, at that meeting, Mike was winning.

A few more people shared their feelings. The last to speak was Dick, a man old enough to be Mike’s father.

“ I remember when I was six months sober,” Dick said quietly. “ That was 7 years ago. Six months sober, and doctors told me I had cancer. But I didn’t drink over it. “

“A few months later,” Dick continued, “ as I was recovering from a cancer operation, a moving van pulled up in front of my house, and my wife of 24 years packed everything into it and left me. I didn’t drink over that.”

My friend says you could hear a pin drop.

“Two years ago I met a woman in this program and found what I had been looking for all my life. She gave me unconditional love and taught me how to love. It’s like these tables, there’s love here, people don’t judge you here.”

Dick talked even quieter now.

“ Last August we were on vacation when she turned yellow. A short time later she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer”. Dick paused and swallowed. “ Two days ago she died in my arms. I didn’t drink over that.”

Dick looked directly at Mike and said, “Mike-----you don’t have to drink either.”

Power. There is, without doubt, incredible power at these tables of strangers, who share an intimate bond even before they meet. Strangers, who come believing they are so different, so unique, that no one has their problems.

Yet, these brothers in arms, sit next to each other and share their secrets, experiences and hopes. Surprise is common with the realization that the person talking, is not talking about your secrets, but their own secrets, and theirs are yours.

Power and strength, gifts that remind one that life really doesn’t necessarily get better--- bad things still happen--- but YOU get better.

Alone, is almost impossible, but together anything is impossible.

I can’t-----WE can.

If you enjoyed this column, you’ll really enjoy Life is a Joke an God Wrote it. Order today.

Antidote to Ego disease

More and more these days it looks like the making of an epidemic of inflated ego out-of-control syndrome, or, some would say, that’s “Idiot ego out of control,” syndrome.

I dare say there’s not one of us—me included—that have not suffered from spurts of egomania—defined as, “ a dangerously obsessive preoccupation with self.” And, a lot of us have experienced the accompanying symptom—an inferiority complex.

Happily, there’s an antidote for this particular sickness. It’s called humility.

There was a plaque on the Akron; Ohio office wall of Dr. Robert Holbrook Smith M.D., affectionately known as Dr. Bob) the text is as follows:

HUMILITY

“Perpetual quietness of heart. It is to have no trouble. It is to never be fretted or vexed, irritable or sore, to wonder at nothing that is done to me, to feel nothing done against me.

It is to be at rest when nobody praises me, and when I am blamed or despised, it is to have a blessed home in myself where I can go in and shut the door and pray to my Father in secret and be at peace, as in a deep sea of calmness, when all around and about is seeming trouble.”

That’s a powerful and wonderful shortcut to truly being happy inside.

Now, if the words on Dr, Bob’s wall plaque fail to help you defeat the “Don’t you know who I am?” syndrome, there is this sure fire, tried and true way:

Just remember, when you’re so full of s—ah, self-importance, announce the following to anyone and everyone:

“Don’t you know who I think I am?”

Many take action, when it’s too late: Is it time for you ?

On October 25, 2002, he crumpled up a pack of cigarettes and threw them away and never smoked again. It was the same day the man, who had smoked cigarettes for 50 of his 70 years, was told he had lung cancer complicated by emphysema.

In his obituary less than two years later, the mans wife could only describe his action as “impressive.”

The obit caught my eye because of the man’s resolve . . .sadly it came too late.

Why, I wondered, do so many of us always push the envelope, why do we rationalize until it’s too late, why do we do things that we know are harming us ordo so?

A couple of days later—no, I don’t make it a habit of reading obituaries, I just quickly check them— I spotted another headline “Led Matterhorn climbers.”

That caught my interest, so I read on.

The obituary briefly told the story of Ulrich Inderbinen, a legend mountain climber in the Swiss Alps. In fact, he was known as the “King of the Alps.”

Inderbinen, who climbed, (for the last time) the famed Matterhorn when he was 90, and said a final farewell. . at 103 years old.

He climbed the 15,000-foot high Matterhorn the first time in 1921. Four years later he became a guide and climbed mountains higher then 13,000 feet while in his 90’s.

“Stress and haste are unknown to me,” Inderbinen said. “I live as I climb mountains—at a pace that is slow and deliberate, but also purposeful and regular.”

Hmm.

I was reminded of a cold December night I spent high in the Alps in Murren, Switzerland, a village overlooking the valley of waterfalls. It is accessible only by gondola or train, for it allows no motorized vehicles.

We’d checked into a small-alpine style hotel where thick down comforter covered plumb featherbed.

Walking down the stairs that evening, I heard music coming from behind a door in the corner of the lobby. I opened the door and walked in a room right out of a movie scene.

It was a Tyrolean tavern, filled with people, porcelain beer steins and a quite stout jovial bartender with handlebar mustache and white apron across his belly.

In one corner, an old man sat on a three leg wooden stool playing a squeezebox. He played while puffing a pipe as people smiled and sang.

When the song ended, someone shouted,” Yodel, yodel.”

And yodel he did, for he next hour-and-a-half. He told me he got up each morning at 5 to milk his 13 cows. He took the gondola up to Murren where he worked on the ski lift and yodeled four nights a week. At midnight, he’s ski down the mountain regardless of the weather: Oh, he was 75 years old.

It’s sad that so many of us learn too late that the most important obligation we have is to celebrate the gift of life by taking care of ourselves first. And, do so, before we are told there’s no time left.

Freedom is indeed helped by what we surround ourselves with.

Freedom from self comes with acceptance that being happy rather than right, is a wiser choice. When I stop trying to control the universe, and all in it, and stop resisting the natural rhythm of the universe, I become more at ease.

Is there a need in your life for change?

Awake to a blank canvas and paint a picture of celebration.

Graduation time, the successful completion of a challenge accepted. If I were asked to speak at commencement, what would I say?

Let’s see:

Treat each day like it’s a blank canvas and promise to paint a new picture daily.

Recognize that negative old pictures (learned behavior) steal your freedom and happiness. Understand that resistance to the natural rhythm of the universe brings about resentment.

Know that when you have food and shelter for the day, your needs are met. Understand that your “wants” will get you in trouble, unless you command your “will” to embrace humility—for humility is teachability.

Reject the false belief that you can control others. Accept the reality, that you control only you.

Practice honesty. When you are honestly true to yourself, without rationalization, you have created the remarkable gift of knowing there are no dark secrets to be exposed. It’s the gift of never having to fear or worry about discovery. That brings inner peace.

Do not forget that when you’re stressed, upset, angry, look first to fear as the driving force behind discontent. Then remember, fear most of the time is False Evidence Appearing Real, and answer fear with faith. If you live in today, fears of tomorrow, regrets of yesterday, will not steal today’s happiness.

You have the power choice. Know that, believe that, and use that. When self-pity attacks, choose to believe that what is happening is happening for your good. Do that and magic happens.

When you’re filled with the poor me’s, it doesn’t take long to move to the next stage, as you angrily demand to know, “Why me?” Next, comes resentment—re-feeling the perceived wrong or hurt. And, before you realize it, you’re back restarting the cycle like a dog chasing its tail.

When stressed out, anxious, unhappy, and fearful—choose to think differently and paint a new powerful picture.

Acceptance is the key to happiness. Remember that.

My old picture taught me I must be perfect, and it took 37 years to realize there’s nothing perfect on God’s green earth. When I accept that, all my anger, frustration, impatience transform into peace of mind. Believe it, and you will feel it.

Resisting acceptance, doing the same thing over and over and expecting difference results, is indeed the true definition of insanity.

Know that surrender by acceptance is not failure, is not shameful. Surrender of old pictures to new ways of thinking that bring happiness, is indeed victory.

Practice daily not allowing others to live in your life rent-free. Accept and realize that when you are unhappy, simply look in the mirror and you’ll see the problem. Only you feel your feelings. Only you can change those feelings.

Awake each day with genuine gratitude, for your first breathe and, yes, the hard times too. When the attitude is gratitude, inner peace, feeling safe and happiness follow.

When the world gets too heavy, life too exhausting, surrender it all. Be happy, rather than right.

And, if all else fails, I want you to remember the extraordinary and wonderful philosophy of Chuckles the clown from the “Mary Tyler Moore Show.”

"A little song—a little dance—a little seltzer down your pants."

Last Chance is today; don’t let it slip away

The house sits on a cypress-shaded lane in the seaside California community called Carmel. It’s one of many little houses where, when you look through the front window, you see the magnificence of the great Pacific Ocean.

Many of the cottages in Carmel are named. The Seagull, Vista del Mer, Driftwood, and so on. One name stopped me in my tracks. As I topped the hill coming up from the beach, I spotted the house. In not so large letters on the front of the cedar shake home is “Last Chance. “

I immediately wished I would have seen that sign 25 years ago, and, this is the important part, understood the meaning then, as I do now.

“Last Chance,” what a wonderful philosophy for living each day to the fullest.

Twenty-five years ago, I would have read it and thought that’s too risky. Last chance to live in Carmel-by-the-sea or New York City, or Arizona, or Paris? Without a lot of money, it was out-of-the-question. There’d be time for that, I rationalized. And, so, dreams died.

Fear stops many of us from living life fully and happily because we live as we have been taught.

I was 45 years old before I understood the real meaning of fear. I never looked at fear in an honest, understanding way. For one thing, I was moving too fast, and, secondly, no one ever explained to me that those almost daily worries about things like money, were, in fact fear. To me it just meant work harder, make more and ignore the “worry,” or being “nervous” about it.

I’m a reasonably intelligent man, but sometimes I wonder why I didn’t recognize all those little worries, or things I’d be bothered by, or I was nervous about for what they were—fear. Instead, as many of us do, I lost sleep, was unhappy and lived a “This is very serious business, life” existence.

Finally, with help from the big guy upstairs and quite a few friends down here, I learned the meaning of fear, and more importantly, how to deal with it.

When I was afraid of not getting my way, I learned to accept that it was all right. With that acceptance came the understanding that I had a choice: to believe what was happening was indeed best for me.

Time would go by, I’d get antsy. OK, how’s this been good for me? I’d question. When I did, I’d start getting agitated, unhappy and, you-got-it, fearful.

When I accepted that I might never understand why certain things happen to me, and that wasn’t important, I felt better. When I came to understand surrender was not defeat but victory, I became freer.

What do you think? How has fear taken from your happiness? And, what are you doing about it? Write and let me know.

For September 12, 2003

Are you still a prisoner of the past, of never being wrong?

“I was wrong.”

When’s the last time you said that? For some it was, “Ah, ah, I can’t remember.” For others, it was never.

It’s fascinating how difficult it is for us to say we’re wrong or mistaken. It’s equally as fascinating, that we seem also prone to quickly blame others.

That’s when those old unhealthy pictures do what they were designed to do—destroy your happiness.

For years, I had difficulty admitting I was wrong. But, for a long time now, I’ve freely admitted my errors. I say “freely,” because that’s exactly what happens when I accept responsibility for my actions.

Once, there was a woman I loved very deeply. She said she felt the same toward me. Yet, at times, I’d feel like I was walking on eggs, which is not good in a relationship. I wanted to marry her, however one issue from her past, became a wall to high to climb. Here’s the story.

Beautiful, intelligent, talented, Kim was the answer to my search. However, she told me that as a child her mother was constantly criticizing her, instilling in her fear and the belief that she was worth less than others.

Feeling blamed and punished unjustly for things she didn’t do, Kim’s answer to survival was to become perfect. In perfection, there can be no criticism, blame or unjust punishment. But, as many come to understand, perfection is unattainable, because it is not real.

In our relationship, when something would trigger those frightened worth-less feelings in Kim, the wound would bleed, and when bleeding doesn’t stop, the wound cannot heal.

Here’s what I mean. There’d be a need on my part to talk about something in our relationship. Because of the work I’ve done over the years to improve my life, I would try to discuss what was troubling me, rather than avoiding the feeling and chancing resentment.

“Because I love you,“ I’d say to her, “I need to talk about something I feel can make our relationship more intimate and loving.”

As I’d begin, I’d see her tense up. When I finished, she would react defensively saying something like “ If you’d…“ or, “What about your…“

As we know, when we feel criticized the first reaction is defense. In defensive, we shut out what’s being said to us. Next, we shift into anger: “How dare you say that?” which is almost always followed by attack: “Oh yeah, if you would…“

I am convinced that Kim was not hearing a loving request to strengthen our relationship. She was hearing old-picture criticism that told her that she was less than perfect. That was frightening, because it meant unfair blame, unjust punishment, and worse, the possibility of being abandoned. Sadly, it was her inability to deal with the degrading issues of her childhood that led to a very sad and painful parting because Kim was unable to trust me. So deep is the wound, that it stops her from even a willingness to change, thereby, always maintaining a “protect thyself at all costs,” existence.

Wow, that got kind of heavy. Hopefully, it shows how loss of happiness can be prevented if we step up today with courage and determination to change. Remember, what happened in childhood, and/or the fear of abandonment, has no power today unless you give it the power. Yesterday is not reality today.

Dealing with yesterday’s demons, frees you to live today’s dreams.

-0-

To order Jerry’s book, Life is a Joke and God Wrote it! and/or contact Jerry please go to : www.jerrystanecki.com or write Jerry at PO Box 121, Bloomfield Hills, MI 48303. Jerry answers all email and appreciates your comments. If you’d like a copy of his book signed to you, or a friend please state in order. The book is $19.50 and that includes tax and S & H.

When you’re ready to criticize someone, look in the mirror

A Viennese music critic died without leaving enough money for his burial. His friends approached a well-known composer and asked him to contribute.

"What's my share?" he asked.

"Thirty kronen," they replied.

The composer thought for a second and said, "Here's 60 kronen. Bury two critics."

I don’t recall where that wonderful story came to me from, but I’ll bet it’s a contribution we’ll all like to make.

Let’s talk about criticism, judging others and yourself.

As we all know, there is good and bad judgments. Unfortunately, it seems, we’d become a society of more negative than positive. Quick to judge others, when we are taking other people’s inventory most of the time we forget to do the most important thing— sign our name to it.

I’m reminded of another story. A story from biblical times.

An angry crowd was gathered in a circle around a very frighten woman. She was accused of being a harlot, accused and judged by the angry mob that stood, rocks in hand, ready to stone the poor woman.

That’s when Jesus arrived on the scene and said loudly, “Let ye, without sin cast the first stone.”

A little old lady slowly bent over and picked up a huge rock, Straining,

she lifted it above her head and tossed it.

“Mother,” Jesus reportedly said. “sometimes you really made me angry.”

Ba-da-bomp.

Yes, it’s a joke, one almost as old as me, and I tell it because it’s a marvelous way to deal with critical, judgmental people when the target is you. Laugh at them, because one thing for sure is, they are being critical of you to avoid looking at themselves.

Why does being judged and/or criticized sometimes bother you so much, you wonder?

Because we all want to be liked, accepted and no one, absolutely no one on God’s green earth wants to be told they are less than. Think about that for a second. Less than translates into worth less. No one wants to feel “worthless.”

Criticism and judgmental temperaments of others can easily trigger a deep seeded, most difficult emotion to label. It’s shame. As a kid ever hear, “Shame on you”?

Shame destroys self-esteem and most of the time is a ponderous emotion to carry. Shame is so sneaky it pushes us to feeling inept and powerfully bad in a matter of seconds. Shame is quite difficult to identify, especially when your healthy ego is under attack by those old negative pictures.

James Bradshaw defines shame very simply. “You make a mistake, feel badly and apologize. That’s human,”Bradshaw explains. “Shame says you are a mistake.”

How many times have you confused shame with quilt, or with simply being human? How do you feel when you are in that state of mind? Pretty sad, isn’t it? Not to mention emotionally exhausting and joy depleting.

So, what do we do when we’re feeling badly and we pinpoint it as shame? If we’ve done something that is shameful, we acknowledge it then apologize. And, remember an apology is only as good as the behavior supporting the apology.

This all contributes to a dilemma most of us face at one time or another in life—being self critical. For some, it’s way to often.

Being hyper-critical of self only destroys. Too many times many of us tend to blame, beat and defeat our personal growth by staying stuck in old unhealthy pictures.

Is it time to bury the super critic in you?

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More powerful suggestions for growth are available on Jerry Stanecki’s audio cassettes, and in his book, “Life is a Joke and God Wrote it.” www.jerrystanecki.com

Nasty people usually bring gifts to the party of life.

About to pull in a parking space, I was startled, actually shocked, by a red blur. A second look, and the blur was a woman wearing a red sweater, in a red Bravada SUV.

Like a crazed maniac, she shot into the parking space in front of me. Yes, the one I’d been sitting there waiting for. I gave her, “The look,” which she gave no indication she saw. So, as I drove around again looking for another parking spot she came marching toward me.

“I was waiting for that parking spot, “ I informed her, nicely.

At first she tried to ignore me, when she was a step past my window she screeched, yes, screeched like a wounded owl: “Beat me up for it.”

Hmmm, a most unusual request, but she’s got the wrong man.

“Madame,” I said. “I cannot oblige you, but I do owe you a big thank you. Seeing how miserable your life is, has just filled me with gratitude because mine is so terrific.”

And, I did feel terrific, mainly because I didn’t react out of an old picture which would have been a nasty scene and more importantly made me feel badly.

“Beat me up.”

A strange reaction to poor manners, perhaps guilt? Why would someone choose to say that unless she’s a masochist . . .or a victim of domestic violence?

When I finally found a parking place and went into the store, I looked closer at her face. It was a very unhappy, pained face.

It made me feel better. No, not because she was so unhappy, I felt better because I thought I had things bothering me. One look at how miserable she was and my problems seemed gold plated.

I felt another rush of gratitude thinking how when the demons of life attack my thinking, I have a way to cast the bastards into the sea and get happy again

It’s called being responsible for my actions and feelings.

I remind you of the story of “Upchuckin’ Rick.”

Suffering from food poisoning, the absolute worst case of it, Rick found that he couldn’t do the one thing he hated most—stop throwing up

Suddenly, he realized that his body was working for his good, pushing the poison out. That’s when he relaxed and stopped resisting. The muscles relaxed and he felt better as nature took its natural course.

When you change the old picture, you ease the journey.

When things get hairy in my life, when what I want isn’t happening and so called bad things are happening, I sometimes have to suffer before I realize that acceptance of what is happening at that moment is my relief.

When I accept what is, and surrender my will in trying to force change, I relax and feel better. Remember: Things always change, nothing stays the same,

The lesson from the woman in red at the grocery store parking lot?

Only I can change how I act, and react, thus forming how I feel. And, as we all know, what you think is how you feel. Choose to feel happy, joyous and fear free.

It’s so easy to fall back into the old role as victim, so easy to slide into self-pity and the “beat me up “ role.

New pictures are sometimes difficult to develop, but, if you keep taking the action, the new powerful ways to feel god soon develop.

Last Chance is today; don’t let it slip away

©2004 Jerry Stanecki