“You can only be young once, but you can always be immature.”
(Dave Barry)

Ouch. I know this is true for me. Just because my age is greater than my kids’, my behavior often isn’t. I am just more subtly immature than they are. Whenever we are faced with a situation and we feel our blood start to boil, the most important thing we can do is to pause and reinforce this thought to ourselves: I am the grownup here and I am going to act like it right now.

When we’re grownups, we don’t need our children to like what we say or what we do. We do what’s best for them regardless of how they feel about that fact. We don’t need their validation or appreciation to feel good about the job we’re doing in raising them. It’s when we actually seek those things from them we find ourselves acting just as immaturely as they are. And that’s not a pretty picture no matter how you look at it.

Peace begins with pause,

“If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.”
(Marcus Aurelius)

Often it’s the meanings we attach to events or conversations that cause us the most pain.

Think about it: Someone else’s child gets engrossed in conversation and forgets to pick up their plate after dinner. You playfully remind them to do so. What happens when your child does the same thing? Suddenly it MEANS something. They don’t respect you. They’re lazy. You haven’t done a proper job in getting them to take responsibility around the house.

If you can extract yourself from this kind of thinking, you can free yourself up to look for the good in your child rather than squint for the bad. You actually give yourself the choice as to whether or not to take something personally. That’s why taking just a moment – in the heat of the moment – gives you tremendous power.

Peace begins with pause,

“You have to have a license to drive a car, or to even catch a fish…but they’ll let any [jerk] become a father.”
(Todd, played by Keanu Reeves, Parenthood)

Father’s Day, celebrated yesterday here in the States, can provoke some powerful reflection.

Here was mine: What initiated me into fatherhood (conception) did nothing to qualify me as a dad. Sure, assigning my name to a birth certificate gave me the title, but the honor of being a father is something I’ve had to earn every week ever since. Here’s how I’ve tried:

—Be slow to anger, and quick to listen.
—Only hold my kids to standards they can hold me to as well.
—Apologize when I’m wrong, without excuses.
—Take my kids’ mistakes seriously, but not personally
—Love my kids enough to lead them, and let them go, to a life of their own.

Father’s Day is a wonderful tradition. I hope you had a chance to honor your dad, and I hope my fellow dads out there felt honored.

I also hope it provoked some reflection as well: How have you earned that honor? And what’s your plan to earn it this week?

Peace begins with pause,

“Don’t sacrifice yourself too much, because if you sacrifice too much there’s nothing else you can give and nobody will care for you.”
(Karl Lagerfeld)

Right before you taxi down the runway, flight attendants share a simple message. “In the case of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will drop from the ceiling compartment.” You know what they’re going to say next, right?

“Please make sure your own oxygen mask is firmly in place before attempting to help others.”

If you can’t breathe, you cannot help others. In fact, if you pass out, you become a liability—now someone has to take care of you.

This isn’t just true on airplanes. You must take care of yourself and your own needs in order to be the best parent, spouse, co-worker, or boss you can be. Getting lost in the day-to-day chaos and ignoring the outlets that once brought you so much life won’t help anyone. It only leaves you ragged, resentful, and restless – which means others will end up having to take care of you.

So today and this weekend, put on your own oxygen mask first. Call a few friends and make time to reconnect. Do something outdoors, without a screen in your hand. Sleep in. You’ll feel recharged, revitalized, and ready to tackle whatever life brings your way next week.

Peace begins with pause,

“Emotional fusion is when partners become enmeshed in a kind of gridlock – like Siamese twins – fused at the hip, passing anxiety, validation of identity, and lack of self-worth back and forth between each other.”
(Dr. David Schnarch)

In marriage it’s easy to get attached, feeling a need to do everything together, agree on everything together, and severely limit the number of things you do, and enjoy, apart.

Such attachment is like running a three-legged race, with your inner legs joined at the hip. Feels very close, but you can’t run worth a darn (and stumbling is inevitable).

Connection is different. Feels scarier, because it’s based on voluntary choice instead of forced obligation. Feels freer, however, because there’s an ease of your times together and your times apart. With connection, you’re a couple, and still two individuals, at the same time.

Kinda like holding hands.

Peace begins with pause,

“Honest differences are often a healthy sign of progress.”
(Mahatma Gandhi)

When it comes to engaging in conflict, some of us like it too much. Most of us, however, try to avoid it like the plague. This is because to most of us, conflict means drama, hurt feelings, and damaged relationships.

But all of that only describes conflict done poorly. Most of us try to avoid conflict because we were never shown or taught how to do it well. Our parents were told to never argue in front of us, and thus we never got to see adults speaking openly and calmly in honest disagreement. We never got to see them work together toward a solution that benefits both parties.

Here’s the truth: Conflict is good. Conflict works. It is the only way different people can ever A) get to really know one another, B) start to really trust one another, and C) learn from each other. It may be uncomfortable. It may test you and your ability to stay “screamfree.” But, just as resistance builds muscle, conflict builds relationships.

So go ahead and fight. Speak your mind in disagreement. Respond to that perceived slight with a follow-up question. Seek clarity from the other person. Calm down, grow up, and get closer by representing exactly what you believe and how you feel. And then champion your “opponent” to do the same. Welcome their feedback, stay cool as you reflect upon it, and then give your own.

Peace begins with pause,

“Most people do not really want freedom, because freedom involves responsibility, and most people are frightened of responsibility.”
(Sigmund Freud)

My greatest hope for your kids is for each of them become a “responsible” adult. I know, I know, every parent says that. But not every parent means it the way I do. Most parents, when they say the word “responsible,” are trying to convey the idea of doing the right thing, or doing what you’re supposed to do. This is absolutely not what I want for your kids, though, because I believe “doing what you’re told” is not true responsibility.

The truest meaning of responsibility is to be response + able. I want your kids to be able to make a response. That’s why we need to give our kids more choices than commands. That’s why we need to resist the urge to tell them what to do all the time.

I would rather all kids learn to think for themselves about a situation and choose how they want to respond, even if they end up making a “bad” decision. That way they can learn from their mistakes, which is one of the central hallmarks of adulthood.

Peace begins with pause,

“Outside show is a poor substitute for inner worth.”
(Aesop)

This weekend, I dare you to experience something awesome…without digitally documenting it or posting it or talking about it in any way. Don’t even tell anyone about it unless they were there.

Experience it for yourself, and let that be enough.

Peace begins with pause,

“Angels fly because they take themselves lightly.”
(G.K. Chesterton)

I once knew a rabbi who carried a small stone in each of his pants pockets at all times.

In one pocket was a peculiar stone that reminded him of his absolute uniqueness in the universe. (No one is exactly like anyone else, and that makes us all special.)

In the other pocket was a small, ordinary stone. This one reminded him that he came from dust, and to dust he will eventually return. (No one is more special than anyone else.)

We are all unique, and we are all ordinary, at the same time.

Peace begins with pause,

“Frankness invites frankness.”
(Ralph Waldo Emerson)

How many times have you blown up at your spouse, or child, or coworker, because you finally said what you should have stated weeks or months ago?

We’ve all done it. We get hurt, or upset, or scared by someone’s behavior, but we bite our tongue, hoping it will go away and get better on its own. That way we can avoid the discomfort of disturbing the peace.

What we fail to remember is that the other person has already disturbed our peace.

When the behavior continues, and continues, our ability to hold it in erodes and then we explode. This usually doesn’t make things better, however, because the other person hears the tone of our blowup more than the message of our statement.

So, go ahead, be frank with your partner, or your child, or your coworker. Say what you need to say, with your calmest tone, so at least you’ve got a chance of being heard.

Peace begins with pause,