The secret of being a bore is to tell everything.
(Voltaire)

Watching our kids struggle with friendships is one of the hardest parts of parenting. That’s why I specifically addressed the topic in one of the chapters in the book I wrote to my daughter, Choose Your Own Adulthood, which comes out March 28th:

Be More Interested, Be Less Interesting

As any of us face new social situations, it can be tempting to think up and share things about ourselves others may find interesting. While this may work a little, it can easily backfire into looking a little self-absorbed. A far more effective strategy is this: Be more interested, and be less interesting. Take a genuine interest in others, asking them questions about themselves, their lives, their interests, and what makes them happiest.

You can go to a party, and make friends with a number of people, without really trying that hard. All you have to do is get curious:

“Where are you from?”
“What do you miss most about your hometown?”
“Do you have any family close by?”
“Who in your family are you closest to?”

And on and on. This is a skill that may not come naturally, but it can be learned, and we all get to practice it every day. Try it on someone this week. Then teach it to your kids.

Peace begins with pause,

Money is not a prize to be celebrated, nor is it an evil to be feared. It is simply this: a muscle to be used.

(Hal Runkel)

This may sound like crazy advice I would give to my daughter as she left for college, but this is exactly what I wanted her to think about as she managed more of her money. This comes from an excerpt of our newest book, Choose Your Own Adulthood. Here’s what I told her:
This may sound crazy, but life goes best when you spend your money.

Now, of course, the immediate dopamine-infused shopping spree can certainly feel good, especially when you’re buying all those Christmas gifts for others (and maybe a few for yourself? Am I the only one?).

But that’s not what we’re talking about here. Money is not a prize to be celebrated, nor is it an evil to be feared. It is simply this: a muscle to be used. Just like our physical muscles, money is a living tool that must be exercised for exact purposes, or else it weakens.

This is why the most at peace among us actually “save” very little. These folks only save their money for a distinct purpose: a rainy day fund, a large future purchase, or Christmas shopping, for instance.

But in reality this is investing, not saving. Saving is fearful. Saving is protective. Saving is about avoiding mistakes, and just like our muscles, money saved in this way will atrophy on its own.

Think about this: Back in 1983, I spent $2.50 on a ticket to see Return of the Jedi. Tomorrow I’m spending $12.50 to see The Force Awakens. That’s inflation for you. What this means, in simplest terms, is that had I saved $2.50 back then, it would now, 30+ years later, only be worth 20% of what it was.

Had I invested $2.50 in Apple stock back in 1983, however, it would now be worth over $200,000.

Of course that’s a ridiculous example. But the principle holds true. Every dollar is a muscle, and it’s asking to be exercised–not just for bills, or for budgeted thrills, but for investments that help it grow. These include stocks & bonds, of course, but they also include experiences that create memories, meals that bring people together, and advice that leads you to wisdom.

Every dollar is a muscle. How are yours getting worked out today?

Peace begins with pause,

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction,
plus a social media overreaction.
(Anonymous)

Respond More, React Less is, in many ways, the entire ScreamFree message. It’s also an important chapter in our newest book, Choose Your Own Adulthood. The book is specifically written as a guide for HS and college graduates, but it’s practical wisdom we all need. Here’s an excerpt:

In our era of instant electronic connection, people are freaking out more than ever. Quick, unthoughtful, cruel tweets. Trolls online, filling up comments pages with instant negativity. Couples breaking up because one of ’em took too long to reply to a text. (She hasn’t texted me back, and it’s been over 20 minutes! She must be cheating!)

Used to be, a hundred years ago, when people traveled by train or boat, the loved ones left behind would have to wait days or weeks to hear from their dearly departed. Word would finally come through a carefully written letter. And then they would, upon much reflection, craft a response letter back. Contrast that with today. Now people rush to flip out their phones as soon as the plane touches down, ’cause heaven forbid their loved ones go a minute more without knowing if the flight went down in flames.

Emotional reactivity is on the rise, and it’s everywhere. It’s what makes for great reality TV, that’s for sure. But in true reality, it makes for pretty bad relationships. Just like when a body reacts to an allergen, people can react to a perceived threat, or slight, by choking off any future possibilities. That’s the real power of reactivity—it usually creates the very outcomes you were hoping to avoid.

Learn to respond more, and react less. What’s the difference? A response is thoughtful, while a reaction is an automatic reflex. A response is careful, while a reaction is careless. A response is measured—informed by education, experience, and an estimate of its immediate and long-term effects. When we respond, rather than react, we actually communicate from our highest principles and deepest desires. Reactions, on the other hand, come straight from our most shallow anxieties and fears.

Peace begins with pause,

“No, try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.”
(Jedi Master Yoda)

Today’s Pause comes from another chapter of our newest book, Choose Your Own Adulthood (which comes out March 28th!). Here’s an excerpt:

Give it a shot, but don’t get your hopes up. Go for it, but don’t expect it to work out. This has come to be the understanding behind any and every kind of “try.”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

“I will try to do better…”

You can easily hear the weak, half-hearted nature of such offerings. That’s because “trying” is something we do when we get reactive. Reacting to pressure from others, we offer faint efforts with no hope of succeeding, only appeasing. Reacting to pressure from within ourselves, we go all out with attempts that are all effort–but no strategy.

This was the case when I was 17 or so, and I desperately wanted to dunk a basketball. I was only 5’11” or so, but I did have some hops for a skinny white boy. But I couldn’t quite get high enough, no matter how hard, or how many times, I tried.

Then I encountered some new wisdom, from an older classmate: “Dude, you’re close–all you have to do is start doing a bunch of calf raises for a while, and you’ll get there.”

In order to accomplish something I couldn’t, I needed to start doing something I could. I needed to stop reacting to my failure, and start responding instead–with a strategy. In short, I needed to train more, and try less. And that’s what I did. I stopped trying to dunk for a while, and I started doing a hundred calf raises at the top of the stairs every night before bed. A couple of months later, I was consistently dunking…a tennis ball. Occasionally I would try to slam something bigger, and when I failed I would go back to training. More calf-raises.

That’s all training is–doing something you can do now, in order to eventually accomplish something you can’t do now. Training is strategic that way.

What most folks fail to realize is how this choice affects so many more aspects of life than just sports, or school. It also applies to our relationships as well. Especially in romance. I’m not suggesting an aspiring Romeo should say, “I’ll train myself to love you.” That’s not a very romantic thing to say. But it is a romantic thing to do. See, trying to be a good husband, or wife, or parent, or friend will simply not cut it. Not when life gets messy and difficult and well, trying. Our closest relationships require so much maturity, flexibility, and integrity that trying to be good at them is not enough.

Whenever people find out that I, the licensed therapist and so-called relationship expert, still see my own counselor every week, they are usually surprised. “Surely you don’t need therapy–you’re the expert!” My response is usually something like this: “Jordan Spieth has a swing coach. LeBron James has both a footwork and a shooting coach. They don’t just try to be excellent; they train to be that way. If I want to have excellent relationships, why wouldn’t I train as well?”

Peace begins with pause,

“It is only the man that delays his gratification that is a man indeed.”
(Sunday Adelaja)

Yesterday we talked about our new book, Choose Your Own Adulthood: A Small Book about the Small Choices that Make the Biggest Difference. It comes out March 28, but it’s already available for pre-order!

The book started as a series of letters to my daughter, Hannah, and it’s about the tough, nuanced choices of adulthood. This first one could not be more important:

Pursue More of What You Want Most, and Less of What You Want Right Now.

Far too often we abandon something we want most for whatever it is we want right now. For instance, college students want to make a good grade on each of their finals, and eventually get a degree. Far too often, they are tempted to neglect those studies for the party that night.

Of course, we all face this choice every day. For instance, I want a lower-stress tax experience next month, but I want to do anything other than start arranging my paperwork this weekend. You can relate to this as well: You want a healthier body, but you want to skip the gym today. You want a better relationship with your spouse, but you’d rather not talk about it tonight.

Life simply goes better, however, whenever we can resist the temptations of the quick & easy, and choose the things we want most instead.

Peace begins with pause,

It is our choices…that show us who we really are,
far more than our abilities.
(J.K. Rowling)

The greatest adventure in life is the transition into adulthood. Nothing compares to the newfound freedoms, possibilities, and responsibilities that come with life on your own. As my daughter began that journey several years ago, I was smartly advised by some friends to start writing occasional letters to her as her high school life was ending, and her college life approaching.

Well, I took this WAY too seriously, and what started as some letters is now our newest book: Choose Your Own Adulthood: A Small Book about the Small Choices that Make the Biggest Difference.

The book is made up of 16 different choices that define what our adult lives will be. These are not the clearcut right vs. wrong choices we all know about, but rather the do more of this, do less of that variety. Respond More, React Less, for instance. Or Create More, Critique Less. Another fun one is Choose More of What You Want Most, and Less of What You Want Right Now.

These choices are the exact lessons I wanted my daughter to take with her as she began to launch, and I could not be more excited to launch these lessons to you guys, our Daily Pausers, and to the rest of the world.

The book is already available for pre-order at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Books-a-Million. You can order now, and you’ll receive the book right around March 29. Until then, we’ll be devoting our Daily Pauses to some of the choices in the book, along with some giveaways, some challenges, and even a scholarship opportunity.

Peace begins with pause,

“Being related hardly insures relatability.”
(Michael E. Angier)

Just because you’re family doesn’t mean you get along. No duh, right? What you may be surprised to hear is that you don’t necessarily have to. It’s perfectly okay to keep some distance between blood relations, and even advisable in some cases.

What matters is the motive. If it’s because the person is always a drain, and never a fountain, then keep your contact minimal. If it’s because the relative can’t stop triangulating you into their problems with another relative, keep your distance.

If it’s because of something on your end, however, like your inability to forgive the person even though they’ve apologized, or because they don’t always agree with you, then be careful. That’s when family is usually doing its best work on us.

Peace begins with pause,

“If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.”
(Abraham Sutzkever)

One of the tragedies of childhood trauma is that very often, the child’s emotional maturity can freeze at that age; their bodies keep growing but their psyches struggle to keep up.

You don’t have to have experienced terrible trauma for this freeze to take place in your own life trek, however. Experiencing a childhood so dramatically wonderful can have the same effect, like the dominant young athlete or actor struggling to adjust when others start to catch up. Also, a simple nostalgia can keep us forever longing for a home long gone.

Adulthood is, in many ways, a process of leaving childhood behind. In particular, this means leaving behind both the excuses, and resources, of our past. What served you well then cannot serve you well forever. This is by no means easy; it may be the hardest thing we ever do.

Peace begins with pause,

“Need a value check? Watch where your money goes!”
(Kent Krive)

One of the most sobering truths is this: Our spending says more about us than our whatever values we spout out.

You wanna know what you truly value most? Do a spending report on your Quicken file. I recently did one for the entirety of our time in Atlanta, going all the way back to 2000. Yikes. While I was pleasantly surprised by some of our choices, I was most unpleasantly shocked by our spending elsewhere.

I’m not going to shame myself (and certainly not my wife) for these choices, though. I’m simply going to listen to them, because one of the recipes for any dissatisfaction with life is a lack of integrity between what we say we value most, and what our spending says we value most (and least).

I dare you to do something similar. Just look at your checkbook over this year so far. Would you find your spending habits match your highest values? I hope so.

Peace begins with pause,

“Habit is either the best of servants or the worst of masters.”
(Nathaniel Emmons)

We are not just creatures of habit; we are creations of our habits as well. Each of us fills our days with scores of habits, some conscious and others autonomic, some helpful and others not.

• What are three habits of yours that serve you well?
• What are three habits that unfortunately seem to have you enslaved as your masters?

Think about it and discuss with a close compadre today.

Peace begins with pause,