Wednesday Wisdom: Life Lessons from the Blackberry Patch Part Two

LIFE LESSONS FROM THE BLACKBERRY PATCH
Part Two         

 

Last week, I shared some of the insight and understanding that came to me as I was picking wild blackberries in the Harmony woods. Here are some additional lessons I've learned.

4.  A Mental Mini-Vacation

Some of my best thinking happens when I'm engaged in physical activities like walking, gardening, or picking wild blackberries. Those activities don't occupy all my mental bandwidth, leaving the rest of my brain free to reflect on whatever subject I choose. It's like a mental mini-vacation. Sometimes I just "de-frag" my mind and try to put the pieces back in order. Sometimes I come up with completely new and intriguing topics to ponder. Sometimes I achieve major breakthroughs with issues that have resisted solutions when I "had to" think about them. For me, a little walk in the woods or a couple of hours in the blackberry patch is the perfect catalyst for great thinking.

5.  Only pick 'em when they're ripe.

Blackberries ripen one by one, not by the bunch. Part of the art of smart picking is knowing when each berry is fully ripe. Even when a berry looks ready, it may still be sour and pithy. The best way to know if a berry is ready is to see if it comes off the vine easily. If you have to tug, you need to leave it for tomorrow because it's not ready yet. In a similar way, there is a time and season for life's offerings. Opportunities sometimes need to develop and mature a bit longer before they're ready. An idea before its time just won't quite come together, no matter how great it seems. Leave it alone for a while. Pushing too hard can lead to frustration and wasted effort. Better to slow down, be patient, and let the fruit ripen at its own pace.

6.  Don't waste your time with small berries.

The size and quality of berries vary widely in the woods. In some spots, fully-developed blackberries ripen no larger than blueberries. In others, they grow as large as cherries and you can fill a bucket in no time. Since it takes the same amount of effort to pick each berry regardless of its size, it makes sense to avoid the small-berry spots and devote your attention to the big ones. Life is like the berry patch. Some tasks deliver huge pay-offs, while others provide minimal returns. Wise people focus their time and attention on areas likely to produce larger and longer-lasting results. Unwise folks squander their resources on trivial matters and end up wandering through life with mostly empty buckets. 

To be continued . . . 

Wednesday Wisdom - Life Lessons from the Blackberry Patch Part One

LIFE LESSONS FROM THE BLACKBERRY PATCH
Part One         

 

Early this Memorial Day, I was out in the Harmony woods picking wild blackberries. I love the challenge of gathering them, and I like to think I've gotten pretty good at it. People ask me, "Why do you go to all the trouble when you can buy them at the store? It sure seems like a lot of blood, sweat, and tears for a small reward." Well, besides the berries themselves, I love the insight and understanding that come to me as I'm picking. Here are some important life-lessons I've learned while picking.    

1.  Having the right tools is critical.

The crucial tools in the case of wild blackberry picking are the right clothes. My tools include a thick, long-sleeve shirt; long thick pants; high rubber boots (no laces, they get stuck on the briars); a non-cloth hat (caps get stuck on the briars); and my special invention: Scott Farnsworth Wild Berry-Pickin' Gloves! - thick work gloves with the end of the index finger and the end of the thumb cut off to grasp the ripe, juicy berries. This "outfit" isn't much to look at, but it sure does protect me. I've seen people try to pick wild blackberries wearing what they wear everywhere else in Florida: t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. Ouch! That was ugly, and the picking didn't last long. Tools matter, folks!

2.  Don't move on until you've looked around; sometimes the best berries are right behind you, above you, or below you.

I've learned that when I think I've finished picking all the berries in a spot, I need to step back, slow down, turn around, and examine the area from different angles. It never fails: when I look again, I find some of the largest, plumpest, ripest berries hiding in plain sight. Wild blackberries are like many of life's best opportunities-you don't see them at first glance and if you're in too big a hurry, you'll miss out. Look around another time or two before you move on; you may find a hidden treasure right under your nose.

3.  Fast is slow and slow is fast with blackberries.

Picking blackberries is slow, tedious work. You can't rush. If you try to hurry, you end up hurting yourself and not picking many berries. Working with people is like that too. If you try to be too "efficient" in the human dimension, you can do a lot of damage. "There is nothing faster than the speed of trust [but] ironically it comes from the speed of going slow. With people, fast is slow and slow is fast." Stephen R. Covey

To be continued . . . 

Wednesday Wisdom - Adjusting the Sails

ADJUSTING THE SAILS              

 

"The pessimist complains about the wind. The optimist expects it to change. The leader adjusts the sails."
- John Maxwell    

Sometimes bad things happen to good people. What do you do when the sky suddenly turns black and fierce, and the winds of life swirl against you? You could choose to be a victim. You could feel sorry for yourself and whine about how unfairly you've been treated. Unfortunately, hosting your own pity party is a lot like playing an electric guitar on a street corner - it may attract a certain amount of sympathetic attention but it likely won't turn your life around.

Another choice is to hope things get better. Optimism definitely beats moping around with a long face. But while a positive mental attitude is good medicine, by itself it's insufficient. It's great to stay hopeful, but hope alone is not enough.

A third option is to seize the opportunity to re-envision, re-calibrate, and then re-direct your journey. Sometimes, when the winds are hard in your face, you notice hidden treasures you overlooked while sailing in calmer waters. Sometimes, when you confront adversity with ingenuity, flexibility, and resilience, you develop innovative and previously-unimagined ways to do your job, to run your business, to live your life. Sometimes when bad things happen to good people, they batten down the hatches, adjust the sails, and in the midst of the storm discover the inside passage to the promised land.

 

Wednesday Wisdom - Where There's a Will . . .

WHERE THERE'S A WILL . . .        

 

"When I die, I want my last words to be: 'I left a million dollars in cash under the ...'." Anonymous

"They say such nice things about people at their funerals that it makes me sad to realize that I'm going to miss mine by just a few days."  
Garrison Keillor

   

I was recently featured as the expert estate planning attorney on a morning drive-time call-in show on the biggest radio station in Orlando. The topic was "Why do people like Prince and lots of other folks not have wills?" I must admit it was fun to engage with the three very active disc jockeys and their rapid-fire questions. Here's a link if you want to listen to the call.

From your mobile phone:  Scott's Radio Segment
From your computer:  Scott's Radio Segment 

It's easy to see in Prince's case how the failure to plan creates a big fat expensive mess for family and loved ones. And yet, about 70% of adult Americans don't have a will. Part of the problem is the fear of facing our own mortality - as if by ignoring the possibility of an early demise we somehow ward off the inevitable. I once had a client say, immediately after executing her will, "Well, I guess I can die now." I expressed admiration for her courage in signing if she felt that way, but I reassured her that there is ZERO correlation between having a will and actually dying.

The other part of the problem is that we allow urgency to trump importance. We know we need to take action, but somehow the "stuff" of life interferes with the essence of life. We tell ourselves we'll eventually "get around to it," but days turn into months and months turn into years, and we're still stuck in the 70%. Whether it's writing a will, hugging our children, or caring for our own physical, mental, and spiritual health, we can't afford to forget this rule: Things that matter most must never be at the mercy of things that matter least.

Wednesday Wisdom - They Say It's Your Birthday

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY       

 

"Just remember, once you're over the hill you begin to pick up speed."  

- Charles Schultz

 

At my age, life is like a set of playing cards.  I still have a full deck; I just shuffle slower now. Nearly 50 years ago, I sang along with the Beatles (and chuckled smugly to myself, certain that those days were eons away):

"When I get older losing my hair,

Many years from now

Will you still be sending me a Valentine

Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?

If I'd been out till quarter to three

Would you lock the door?

Will you still need me, will you still feed me

When I'm sixty-four?"

This week -- on Saturday to be precise -- I actually arrive at the age 64 milestone.  My, how time flies!  Here I am, living the words of the song and still asking those questions:

"Doing the garden, digging the weeds,

Who could ask for more?

Will you still need me, will you still feed me

When I'm sixty-four?"

I'm happy to report that I'm "doing the garden" and "digging the weeds," in my back yard grow box and producing some beautiful vegetables.  No, I haven't "been out to quarter to three" lately; I need my rest.  But yes, Marcie, my sweetheart of 41 years, still needs me and still feeds me and still wants to be "mine for evermore."  Who could ask for more?

Wednesday Wisdom - Mother's Day

MOTHER'S DAY               

"Mother is the one we count on for the things that matter most of all."  

- Katherine Butler Hathaway

   

I have been blessed by many noble women in my life, starting with my mother, Gracie Mae Moody Farnsworth.  Before succumbing to throat cancer when she was 32 and I was 8, she wrote each of her six surviving children a letter.  Mine was delivered to me when I turned 12.  It contains an expression of her undying love for me and some sage advice for a young man about to face the challenging teenage years without a mother.  Her letter is unquestionably my most precious earthly possession.  It is the inspiration for everything I have done at SunBridge. 

I remember my mother as bright, cheerful, and fun-loving, even in the face of profound difficulty.  She showed me how to smile and keep my chin up through the loss of our house and all its contents to fire with no fire insurance; later, the death of her oldest son at the hands of a drunk hit-and-run driver; and then the gruesome years of surgery and cobalt treatments that left her thin, frail, and disfigured.  In her extremity, she perfected the art of crushed glass pictures, made our humble home beautiful, and organized fun family outings.  As her strength waned, she received assistance with gratitude and greeted visitors with warmth and love.  She was a ray of sunshine to all who knew her.

What mattered most of all to my mother was the absolute conviction that families are forever.  That buoyed her up and gave her hope in those dark days.  She and I both believe deeply in the eternal nature of the family.  She will always be my mother and I will always be her son, and we will live as a family in heaven.  This week we celebrate Mother's Day, but the real Mother's Day celebration will occur on that future day when I see her again and hug her and thank her for giving me life and love and faith.  I love you, Mama.  Happy Mother's Day.