Please reread the Sincere Belief Dad Blog. I will re-post it here. Sincere belief is one of those essential life skills. It is easy to have when things are going well. It is much harder when things feel like they are going to hell around you. Like any other skill that is worth a damn - you have to continually work at keeping it at a high level.
And at the risk of being repetitive, you cannot avoid a lot of tough situations and shitty people that you find in your life from time to time. You can kill yourself examining these things and trying to find rhyme or reason for them. People can get stuck here and end up believing the universe is wiping its ass on your life. Never true, the simple truth is shit happens. If you step in dogshit, don't blame the dog, your shoe, yourself, or any cosmic forces aligning up to suck the heart out of you. It is just dogshit.
Sincere Belief has always played an important role in my life. It has not been luck or magic, it has been hard work, training, and the ardent belief that I am supposed to succeed because of the way I approach things. You never stop having to use this. It was just a couple of short years ago that I faced the prospect of a devastating job layoff. As a firefighter I used this under some of the most demanding circumstances you can imagine. The need to have it and use it never goes away. I can tell you it works from a lot of hard earned experience.
And in case you are wondering mom's Sincere Belief is stronger in many ways than my own. You just never know do you?
Here is the re-post from a couple of years ago:
Here is another bit of Dad wisdom that I want you both to keep. I found an article in Men's Health that really explains the strong, unwavering sincere belief both mom and I have in you.
It explains it really well. It is not magic, not a blind wish or hope for the best outcome by a parent or a loved one. It is really a strong sincere belief in the best outcome happening because of who you are and the work you put into things. By now, you both have had much more success than a lot of your peers and need to understand there is a belief that you have in yourselves that drives this success.
I predict it (so does your mom by the way, as enthusiastically as me but with grace and modesty) because we have sincere belief. If you start to recognize the pattern of your success you are going to be stunned by how much success you have.
Sincere belief does not mean you will not step in shit, meet crappy people, have people take occasional advantage. It sure does not exempt you from the face plant that you will do from time to time in pursuit of a desired goal. It does mean that doing that will give you more in depth appreciation for the great people and experiences that are in front of you.
THIS IS EXCERPT FROM MH ARTICLE.
HERE'S A USEFUL EXERCISE: NAME SOME successful cynics. You can't. Look at some of the most successful people in the past 10 years: Steve Jobs, Barrack Obama, the Google guys. They're not too cynical. George Clooney, Bono, Pixar's central creative team. They're about as genuine about their lives and work as you can get. Love him or hate him, George W. Bush is no cynic. Cynics don't become presidents of the United States. They don't become top CEOs, entrepreneurs, or researchers either.
Cynics are brambles, quicksand, and snot. They ply their drug one-on-one: Come on, let's sit here and be cynical together. It feels good to stay angry, to stay in one place forever. They specialize in what a friend of mine calls "the bitch spiral," which occurs when like-minded people get together and complain with such intensity that every slight against them becomes a gigantic conspiracy. They attack the successful under the banner of hypocrisy and injustice: "The Yankees' payroll is ruining baseball!" "The Goldman Sachs bonus system is ruining society!" "My boss is ruining my life!"
Here's the thing: Whatever you do, elite performance (which is the delivery vehicle for success) requires a sincere belief -- in the cause, of course, but also in your own ability and the very system in which your performance happens. Cynicism cannot exist in the same space as sincere belief. Cynicism is not disbelief, but unbelief, a refusal.
That's why cynicism is so dangerous to the average guy. If you lose that sincere belief -- at your job, in your relationship, as a son or sibling or parent, anywhere -- you're worthless, no matter how talented you are.
AT THE RISK OF SOUNDING TOO EARNEST, let me say this: Cynicism is caused by broken hearts. Sincere belief in a company, a group, a system, or another person forces you to put something real on the line, something with deep tethers to your emotional core. If you offer that up, and you fail -- or others fail you -- your heart shatters.
Then the choice emerges. Either you fall into a fresh bitch spiral, or you do the most difficult thing any man can do: Believe once again. That means moving forward through the things that broke your heart in the first place: hypocrisy, injustice, venality. A few of the men I've spent time with for Men's Health stand out in this regard.
Derek Jeter: I'm sitting in my living room during the World Series last November, a devoted Phillies fan watching Jeter use his bat to pound nails into my beloved team's coffin. I knew the Phils were doomed, because I've been in Jeter's living room. He told me, while lounging in his easy chair, that being clutch simply means believing -- that because you've been successful in the same situation before, you will be successful again. That magnificent bastard, who works under the most cynical media microscope in sports, always believes he will get the hit. Does he always? Of course not. But his belief never wavers, and it's contagious. And I think, Why does it take the rest of us -- not to mention Cole Hamels -- so long to figure this stuff out?
Jason Kamras: This former Washington, D.C., middle-school math teacher was named 2005 National Teacher of the Year. His case really defines sincere belief for me; after all, who's riper for cynicism than a teacher? "Do I leap out of bed every morning with utter excitement? No. But I do get up every morning with a sense of purpose and passion," he told me. "If you're not doing that, then be honest with yourself. At some point we have to stop and say, 'Look, I really want to be passionate.' I don't think I've ever said, 'Gosh, it's terrible that I can't buy this beautiful house I want.' "
The businessmen: I've interviewed dozens of CEOs and other top bosses. Netflix's Reed Hastings, who has rendered Blockbuster impotent. Blake Mycoskie of Toms Shoes, who donates a pair of shoes to needy kids for every pair he sells. Jim Koch, who quit a six-figure job to brew Samuel Adams beer. These men's big ideas were met with skepticism. Each man blossomed through sincere belief.
Chuck Palahniuk: "As a writer, I felt compelled to toe the publishing line until I realized I was flushing away all my free time. I was starting to really hate writing," he told me. "It looked like just another f--king job where I was trying to please some boss. There had to be a way for writing to be fun." So he wrote Fight Club.
I've sat down with many others -- LeBron James, David Beckham, Jamie Foxx, Anderson Cooper, Aaron Eckhart, and dozens like them -- and the theme runs through the conversations like a power line. One of the great summations of their collective approach came from the actor Mark Wahlberg: "All I can do is try to point out the obvious," he told me. "If you're motivated and doing the right thing, good things are going to happen."
CYNICS HAVE AN OLD CLICHE FOR WHAT I'M talking about: drinking the Kool-Aid. Well, this particular flavor is low in sugar and high in nutrition. Sure, you can abstain out of pride, anger, fear, or insecurity. This Kool-Aid is no guarantee, after all. You can still take the wrong roads, monumentally screw up, or just plain fail with your best effort. Abandoning cynicism is just a tool.
But recently, I have chosen to drink the Kool-Aid. Trust me, it's not easy to swallow. My favorite sport is scoffing. I fight the bitterness in me every single day the way an alcoholic fights the minute-to-minute urge to chug. And yet I rely on this catalog of past encounters with successful men to keep myself oriented. I'm not saying "think positively" or "be optimistic" or some other self-help nonsense. I'm not saying I have a sincere belief in myself or my talents or the American Dream. I'm saying I have a sincere belief in sincere belief. I've seen it work too many times for it to be coincidence. Cynics are fakers. But to keep pushing yourself in the fa
And in case you are wondering mom's Sincere Belief is stronger in many ways than my own. You just never know do you?
Here is the re-post from a couple of years ago:
Here is another bit of Dad wisdom that I want you both to keep. I found an article in Men's Health that really explains the strong, unwavering sincere belief both mom and I have in you.
It explains it really well. It is not magic, not a blind wish or hope for the best outcome by a parent or a loved one. It is really a strong sincere belief in the best outcome happening because of who you are and the work you put into things. By now, you both have had much more success than a lot of your peers and need to understand there is a belief that you have in yourselves that drives this success.
I predict it (so does your mom by the way, as enthusiastically as me but with grace and modesty) because we have sincere belief. If you start to recognize the pattern of your success you are going to be stunned by how much success you have.
Sincere belief does not mean you will not step in shit, meet crappy people, have people take occasional advantage. It sure does not exempt you from the face plant that you will do from time to time in pursuit of a desired goal. It does mean that doing that will give you more in depth appreciation for the great people and experiences that are in front of you.
THIS IS EXCERPT FROM MH ARTICLE.
HERE'S A USEFUL EXERCISE: NAME SOME successful cynics. You can't. Look at some of the most successful people in the past 10 years: Steve Jobs, Barrack Obama, the Google guys. They're not too cynical. George Clooney, Bono, Pixar's central creative team. They're about as genuine about their lives and work as you can get. Love him or hate him, George W. Bush is no cynic. Cynics don't become presidents of the United States. They don't become top CEOs, entrepreneurs, or researchers either.
Cynics are brambles, quicksand, and snot. They ply their drug one-on-one: Come on, let's sit here and be cynical together. It feels good to stay angry, to stay in one place forever. They specialize in what a friend of mine calls "the bitch spiral," which occurs when like-minded people get together and complain with such intensity that every slight against them becomes a gigantic conspiracy. They attack the successful under the banner of hypocrisy and injustice: "The Yankees' payroll is ruining baseball!" "The Goldman Sachs bonus system is ruining society!" "My boss is ruining my life!"
Here's the thing: Whatever you do, elite performance (which is the delivery vehicle for success) requires a sincere belief -- in the cause, of course, but also in your own ability and the very system in which your performance happens. Cynicism cannot exist in the same space as sincere belief. Cynicism is not disbelief, but unbelief, a refusal.
That's why cynicism is so dangerous to the average guy. If you lose that sincere belief -- at your job, in your relationship, as a son or sibling or parent, anywhere -- you're worthless, no matter how talented you are.
AT THE RISK OF SOUNDING TOO EARNEST, let me say this: Cynicism is caused by broken hearts. Sincere belief in a company, a group, a system, or another person forces you to put something real on the line, something with deep tethers to your emotional core. If you offer that up, and you fail -- or others fail you -- your heart shatters.
Then the choice emerges. Either you fall into a fresh bitch spiral, or you do the most difficult thing any man can do: Believe once again. That means moving forward through the things that broke your heart in the first place: hypocrisy, injustice, venality. A few of the men I've spent time with for Men's Health stand out in this regard.
Derek Jeter: I'm sitting in my living room during the World Series last November, a devoted Phillies fan watching Jeter use his bat to pound nails into my beloved team's coffin. I knew the Phils were doomed, because I've been in Jeter's living room. He told me, while lounging in his easy chair, that being clutch simply means believing -- that because you've been successful in the same situation before, you will be successful again. That magnificent bastard, who works under the most cynical media microscope in sports, always believes he will get the hit. Does he always? Of course not. But his belief never wavers, and it's contagious. And I think, Why does it take the rest of us -- not to mention Cole Hamels -- so long to figure this stuff out?
Jason Kamras: This former Washington, D.C., middle-school math teacher was named 2005 National Teacher of the Year. His case really defines sincere belief for me; after all, who's riper for cynicism than a teacher? "Do I leap out of bed every morning with utter excitement? No. But I do get up every morning with a sense of purpose and passion," he told me. "If you're not doing that, then be honest with yourself. At some point we have to stop and say, 'Look, I really want to be passionate.' I don't think I've ever said, 'Gosh, it's terrible that I can't buy this beautiful house I want.' "
The businessmen: I've interviewed dozens of CEOs and other top bosses. Netflix's Reed Hastings, who has rendered Blockbuster impotent. Blake Mycoskie of Toms Shoes, who donates a pair of shoes to needy kids for every pair he sells. Jim Koch, who quit a six-figure job to brew Samuel Adams beer. These men's big ideas were met with skepticism. Each man blossomed through sincere belief.
Chuck Palahniuk: "As a writer, I felt compelled to toe the publishing line until I realized I was flushing away all my free time. I was starting to really hate writing," he told me. "It looked like just another f--king job where I was trying to please some boss. There had to be a way for writing to be fun." So he wrote Fight Club.
I've sat down with many others -- LeBron James, David Beckham, Jamie Foxx, Anderson Cooper, Aaron Eckhart, and dozens like them -- and the theme runs through the conversations like a power line. One of the great summations of their collective approach came from the actor Mark Wahlberg: "All I can do is try to point out the obvious," he told me. "If you're motivated and doing the right thing, good things are going to happen."
CYNICS HAVE AN OLD CLICHE FOR WHAT I'M talking about: drinking the Kool-Aid. Well, this particular flavor is low in sugar and high in nutrition. Sure, you can abstain out of pride, anger, fear, or insecurity. This Kool-Aid is no guarantee, after all. You can still take the wrong roads, monumentally screw up, or just plain fail with your best effort. Abandoning cynicism is just a tool.
But recently, I have chosen to drink the Kool-Aid. Trust me, it's not easy to swallow. My favorite sport is scoffing. I fight the bitterness in me every single day the way an alcoholic fights the minute-to-minute urge to chug. And yet I rely on this catalog of past encounters with successful men to keep myself oriented. I'm not saying "think positively" or "be optimistic" or some other self-help nonsense. I'm not saying I have a sincere belief in myself or my talents or the American Dream. I'm saying I have a sincere belief in sincere belief. I've seen it work too many times for it to be coincidence. Cynics are fakers. But to keep pushing yourself in the fa
