by Seth E. Berg -

Splashes, Ripples, Calm and Clarity

There’s a mindfulness analogy that lands very true on me. We see more clearly through calm than through clutter. The reference is of a body of water. I think about the small river the feeds into the big lake in the sleepy Northern Michigan town my family calls home when we’re not at home in metro Detroit.

The river is probably fifty to one hundred feet across at various points. It goes to about waist deep where kids swim and probably about shoulder deep in the reedy parts under the bridge. I wouldn’t know for sure because I wouldn’t stand in that part. Too mucky. Too slimy.

Even on a windy day when the big lakeshore is pulsing with whitecaps, the small river is generally still. The small river is still because it’s nestled between tall growth on either side. It’s sunk low beside the sleepy town. On the main drag you look across the small river and on to the big lake as you walk the path from town to beach.

When the small river is still (which is most of the time) you can see straight to the bottom, even from up on the bridge. When the surface is calm, you can see long green plants slowly swaying as schools of curious fish glide and flutter between them. Occasionally a big fish or a turtle floats along, seemingly paying no attention to the schools, and seemingly having no attention payed to them.

There’s a world beneath the surface of the small river. Plants and animals are living their lives, probably with no knowledge that they’re being watched from above. Most likely never knowing that they catalyze our imaginations, that they inspire our reflection, that they feed our curiosity, and that they ignite tangential patterns of thought in us.

Most of the time we can see the world beneath the surface of the small river with incredible clarity. We can see beneath the surface with such clarity because generally, the surface of the small river is still. Most of the time, the surface is calm.

Sometimes it’s raining. Sometimes kids are splashing one another or throwing sticks and rocks into the small river. When the surface is disturbed we can’t see beneath it. When the surface is not calm, when it’s cluttered with splashes or ripples, one would never know that there is a world beneath it. One would never know about the plants and the animals who have the power to inspire us, to catalyze thoughts, and to initiate reflection.

Our minds are like the surface of the small river, and like the surface of any body of water. We see more clearly through calm than through clutter.

by Seth E. Berg -

A Walk In Progress

We each have a certain amount of minutes. We don’t know how many that is. Research shows that the more of those minutes we spend being mindful and positive the more we are likely to have, and the more we are likely to enjoy. Taking walks tends to help me be increasingly mindful and positive. I find walks to be joyful and fulfilling. 

I went for another walk today. I’ve been going for as many walks as I can. Walks are great reminders for me. Being present during a walk brings me growth-producing benefits. 

I don’t always feel holistically enthusiastic about walks before I take them. I do, however, always feel glad I’ve taken one when I have. Remembering that helps motivate me. 

The other day I took a walk with our 9 year-old. Even better than a walk by myself, a walk with someone I love. We had been sitting on the couch. We both started falling asleep. Nothing wrong with a good nap on a lazy weekend day, but what about a walk instead, I thought. 

I gave him the option. I said we could either close our eyes and drift off into our naps, or we could go for a walk. I was glad he chose the walk. We had to jump up in that moment, get geared up and step out the door or it never would have happened. We did it. Next thing I knew we were on our way.

A mile and a half to the neighborhood coffee shop. Not too long, and just long enough. The air was crisp and the sun was shining. Perfect. A perfect winter moment. Just enough bite to feel everything and the constant companion of the sun following along the whole time, warming out faces and counterbalancing the cold. We talked, laughed and had a great time.

Sometimes on a walk, I slip away from presence and into rushing. When I do, it feels like an opportunity to return to the present. It feels like a chance to build that mindful muscle. 

I can’t think of an endeavor that has an end. We’re always becoming. Most of what we do we need to learn to do, then refine, then practice, and then spend our time continuously enhancing. That goes for mindfulness, too. Heck, that goes for going for a walk. 

Our lives are not about reaching a point at which we feel comfortable stopping, but rather about continuously developing into more happy, fulfilled and accomplished versions of ourselves along what is ideally a balanced journey. 

Walks help me think clearly. They help me spend time with people I love in fun ways. They give me exercise and they make me slow down. 

I’ve always been very much a work in progress. I find more and more each day, that the work progresses in increasingly positive and meaningful ways when I also have a walk in progress.

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks. 

by Seth E. Berg -

A Focus on Subjective Well-Being at Work

There was a time when we in the western world didn’t understand the broad and overarching importance of well-being, especially in the workplace. A long time. 

Going to work has historically meant going…to…work, and expressly notgoing to fun, going to comfort, or going to enjoy yourself in any way, or going to enhance subjective well-being. Regrettably, I still hear people talking about their work, and their workdays, in ways that make me wonder how we can do better. 

Counting the minutes and thanking the heavens it’s Friday seems to be common practices in the modern workplace. 

On the other hand, I do regularly talk with people who make clear that they look forward to going to work. 

At school, I know lots of teachers, ancillary and support staff who consistently tell me they love, and are grateful for their jobs. Naturally, those people are also relationship-builders, risk takers and innovators. 

Whenever I’m in spaces with educators who talk about loving their jobs I see them (and the kids they serve) experiencing joy and balance. Kids’ at school, with adults who love their jobs, are generally increasingly interested and engaged. They connect and they collaborate. Together, they celebrate learning. 

My learning journey has let me to understand subjective well-being as synonymous with life satisfaction. How happy are you with you, personally and professionally? The answer to that questions speaks to your subjective well-being, and your well-being by any measure. Your well-being is an indicator of so much more, including physical health, longevity, social engagement, creativity and productivity.

Everyone lives within a range of emotions. We each feel happy, sad, angry, worried, and all the in betweens at different times. By happy I don’t mean smiling and skipping, I mean feeling good about about yourself overall. I mean being able to face challenges with confidence and resolve, and being able to celebrate triumphs (big and small) with genuine joy and gratitude.   

Subjective well-being is about how we feel when we wake up in the morning and when we go to sleep at night. It’s about how we interact with one another throughout the day. It’s about achieving our goals. It’s about how frequently we exercise, and the depth and frequency of our reflectivity and mindfulness. It’s about making choices that bring us positive outcomes. It’s about focusing on the positive while facing the negative with courage and resilience. It’s about hope, optimism and balance.

Ed Diener and Katherine Ryan wrote about subjective well-being in their article, “Subjective Well-Being: A General Overview.” In the article, they explore the impacts of subjective well-being on individuals and on communities. They point out, “…a growing body of research shows that high levels of subjective well-being are beneficial to the effective functioning of societies beyond the advantages they bestow on the individual.” (p. 392)

This notion suggests that we should not only be focused on our own well-being but also on the well-being of others. By regularly using tools and strategies like gratitude, kindness, compassion and reflection we can enhance our own experiences and the experiences of those we share the world with. 

When we perceive high levels of life satisfaction we tend to be more settled, more calm, more productive and more engaged. All of which brings increased positive contributions and balance to the communities in which we live and work. 

From a leadership perspective, focus on individual well-being is a clear path to a strengthened organizational well-being. Organizational leaders in all secures could enhance their practice by making a point to connected with employees, asking a very simply question, “Are you happy at work?”

If the answer is “no,” we have some good data and a positive pathway to do better. Follow up question would be, “Why do you think that is” and/or, “What would make the workplace a positive, rewarding place for you?”

Some people may know the answer, others may not. In either case, with a focus on well-being in the workplace, extending happiness, productivity and balance (both professionally and personally, and both individually and collectively), we can exhaust that dialogue and translate each reasonable finding in to action.

The bottom line is that a focus on subjective well-being for every individual and for all can enhance our work, our lives, and our contributions to enhanced lives of those around us. Increased well-being makes happier people. Happier people make a more peaceful, productive and joyful world, and that’s good. 

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

by Seth E. Berg -

Breath In The Good, Breath Out The Bad

It’s been a week of family, friends, memories and love. 

Hard to believe it’s been a week since our Aunt passed. Time moves really slow and really fast simultaneously. 

Aunt Florine has us thoughtful and reflective. My initial tribute can be read here: Love, Love, Love…Love You More!

In recalling one of the many lessons Aunt Florine has imparted on the world, the wisdom of our Great Aunt Chili was evoked.

By the way, I think it was Plato who wrote something about passing twice. Something like, we pass twice, once when we stop breathing one once the last time someone thinks about or speaks our name. Something like that. 

It fills me with joy to write the name Aunt Chili. Talk about an incredible person and amazing woman. Aunt Chili walked this earth for a hundred and four and a half years. Spicy and uniquely Aunt Chili with every step!

Anyway, the lesson Aunt Chili passed along to Aunt Florine, that Aunt Florine then passed along to the rest of us is about breathing. 

Aunt Chili (and then Aunt Florine) said we should breath in the good and breath out the bad. 

In even more detail she said something like, we should breath in all the crisp, fresh, clean air we can. 

She said we should breath it in along with all the goodness we can think of. She said we should breath it in for as long as we can, and that we should fill our lungs with it. 

She said we should hold it in and let it move throughout our bodies. She said we should let it filter through the outer walls of our organs and flow through out blood. Something like that. 

Then (she said), we should let that crisp, fresh air release the good into our bodies and absorb anything bad we have floating around inside of us. 

She said we should let each particle of air latch on to any negative emotion, negative thought, confusion, and frustration.  She said we should let the bad cling to the breath we’ve brought in like dust to static. She said we should let as much bad collect on it before we expel it from our bodies. 

She said we should smile and feel calm, joyful and complete as we watch the bad dissipate and disappear. 

What’s more, she said we should do that as frequently as we can, and that we can do it whenever we want. 

Anyway, she said something like that. 

And why not? I can’t think of a reason not to believe breathing in the good and breathing out the bad is a good idea. What harm could it do? When I try it, every time I try it…it works. 

Try it now if you’d like. Try it, and really see it happening as you do. 

That’s the key. Visualize the good and visualize the bad. See the particles of air carrying all that stuff. In with the good and out with the bad.

It can’t be the first time you’ve heard someone give this advice. Our breath is so incredibly powerful if we let it be. 

Time moves so slow and so fast, simultaneously. How do you want to spend the moments you have? How are you going to spend those moments?

You can’t go back. You can’t do anything differently than what you’ve done. What you can do is make sure every moment counts. The next one, and the the one after that. One at a time. 

As long as we’re breathing, we can use our breath to enhance our lives. At least that’s what I heard.

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks. 

by Seth E. Berg -

Let’s Never Allow Hate To Be Normalized Again

Today I chaperoned our 13 year-old’s Sunday school field trip to the Holocaust Museum. 

We gathered with the Rabbi to prep before leaving the synagogue. She came bearing food, as all good Rabbi’s do. A variety of tasty muffins helped set a foundation of comfort and a positive affects we took the moment to ground ourselves in contemplativeness (which I’m almost certain is a word).

The Rabbi asked us (adults and teens) to individually consider what it means to be Jewish today and throughout history. She told us there’s no right answer. She said each us would likely walk out of the museum with thoughts and feelings uniquely our own. 

She suggested we talk with one another, with fiends and family, that we ask questions and  that we take time to process. She urged us to be present and reflective. 

As we drove I asked asked our son what he knew about the Holocaust, what he hoped to learn and how he felt. He was thoughtful in his response. He let me know he was looking forward to learning more. I’m very proud of the young man he’s become. 

We didn’t talk much during the tour. Every so often he pointed to a picture or some other artifact, quietly and confidently letting me know about a realization he was having or an epiphany that had shifted his thinking. He was so mature and composed. 

I tried to front load him as we approached each exhibit. I check in regarding his comfort level multiple times. He maintained that he was fine and wanted got keep going, keep learning, and continue looking through this lens of his own history. 

Early propaganda, discrimination and hate, disbelief and confusion, policies of oppression, the ghettos, the uprisings, the many heroic “upstanders” who risked their lives to save the lives of others, the many who turned a blind eye, the parallels to so much tragedy still being perpetuated in our world today, the camps, and the chambers. This was a to contemplate; for both of us. We will undoubtedly be processing together for some time. 

Our tour ended in front of Ann Frank’s picture and story. A story she lived she wrote down when she was just about his age. 

In the short years she spent alive on this earth, Ann Frank somehow had the wisdom, insight and foresight to write of a chestnut tree outside her window, “From my favorite spot on the floor, I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree whose branches little raindrops shine, appearing like silver.”

We each have a unique vision of the world. A vision based on the complex amalgam of who we are, coupled with our lived experiences in any given moment. 

Ann Frank’s vision…the beautiful, complex and simple way in which she saw the world, a world that we literally crumbling in and around her…was her hope. It was her guide and her salvation. It was her enduring and critical message. 

She wrote, “What is done cannot be undone, but one can prevent it happening again. I don’t think of all the misery but of the beauty that still remains. Whoever is happy will make others happy too.”

Michigan’s Holocaust Museum was gifted a sapling from the very tree that stood within sight of Ann Frank’s “favorite spot on the floor.” That sapling grows in the museum’s courtyard. It’s pictured above. 

Today, our son and I had a chance to look at that sapling. A living, connected artifact that had been looked at by Ann Frank. One that inspired her to the indelible outcomes she achieved.  

I stared. I couldn’t look away. An electric current ran through my body. I was viscerally aware that the unthinkable tragic events of the Holocaust, while deeply important to myself, my child and every Jew, connected to our individual and collective identities, were among a myriad of similarly tragic events that continue to plague our word. Not the least of which (and uncontrollable present in my mind in that moment) is the history of slavery in the United States and the western world.

One of our community members asked the Rabbi what we can do to make sure this never happens again. With a deep breath and a comforting smile she told offend that we must never allow hate to be normalized. She said while we can’t each move mountains, when we each take care of pebbles in this way, the world can change. 

So, next time you hear a discriminatory statement issued about a person with a disability, see a person being judged by the color of his skin, or witness someone suffering at the hands of others on the basis of her identity, do all you can to not let hate be normalized. 

Resist hate. Do it careful, compassionately and with grace. Do it with an open heart and an open mind. Remember, the beauty still remains. The beauty always remains. 

For our ancestors, for ourselves and for our children…for our history and for the future of our world, let’s never let hate be normalized again.

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

by Seth E. Berg -

I Fell Into A Dumpster (Nothing But Blue Skies)

It would be reasonable for someone to use the idea of falling into a dumpster as a metaphor for hitting rock bottom. I could see someone saying something like, “I fell into a dumpster” to address some sort of loss, misgiving, or feeling of defeat.

Well, I actually fell into a dumpster. On Friday afternoon, in fact. 

As unique an experience as it seemed at the time, I did it. I actually fell into a dumpster. Then, as I was lying on my back at the bottom of said dumpster, nestled in and around multiple bags of noxious trash, breathing through my mouth to no avail, and the only thought I could muster was, “I just fell into a dumpster…I actually just fell into a dumpster.”

It was how you might be imagining it. It was the result of a brilliant idea, of which I have many that I must admit result in less than fortunate outcomes. I do lot’s of learning (or not, some might say). To my credit, I would still speculate that it had at least a 75% chance of working out better than it did. 

You see, I was throwing a mat away. It was a really big mat. It was a mat so big, it didn’t fit into the dumpster. Picture it, I fashioned this really big, dusty and damaged old mat into a giant Little Debbie’s Swiss Cake Roll replica, dragged it to the dumpster and hulked it in like a humongous, floppy javelin. I issued a flawless tough guy grunt as I released the mat. Super proud of myself. Very satisfying.

But…it didn’t fit. It was sticking out a good several feet on a diagonal from the other end of the dumpster. 

Ironically, as my brilliant idea hatched it was accompanied by the knowledge that Lorelei would have, in no uncertain terms, denied me the opportunity to put this plan into action. 

She would have insisted that I didn’t step on the center of that half sticking out of a dumpster mat. 

She would have told me it would not have folded cleanly, giving me the ability to easily step over the mat and out of the dumpster after generating a precise fit with my engineering prowess.  

She would have confidently outlined impending disaster without blinking her eyes. She would have let me know that instead, I would end up on my back at the bottom of the dumpster. 

Ha. Lorelei doesn’t know everything about everything. Besides, Lorelei wasn’t there. It was just me, my thoughtful analysis of the situation, and my imminent glory. Also, Lorelei doesn’t have to know about every great idea that pops into my mind. Frankly, I don’t think she could handle it. 

Well, as you (and Lorelei) now know, I ended up on my back at the bottom of the dumpster. Hindsight. Maybe she makes some good points occasionally. 

Regardless, after I rested for a moment I took a picture. For posterity. It’s the picture above.

I climbed out fo the dumpster through the sliding door on the side, brushed myself off to the best of my ability and went inside to take my lumps. My colleagues and I had a few good laughs over it. 

One of the teachers I work with said, “You know what, Seth…when you’re lying at the bottom of a dumpster, looking up on a day like today, all you can see are blue skies.” 

I think he would have patted me on the shoulder but thought better of it because of the stench. 

Anyway, he was right. We face many challenges. Each of us has our share. The more we do so with a positive affect, an optimistic viewpoint and grounding in the beauty of every moment, the better off we may be.

Sure, I fell into a dumpster. When I did, all I could see was bright, blue skies. 

Through the triumphs and the challenges, life’s pretty darn good…and I’m filled with awe and gratitude. 

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. 

by Seth E. Berg -

One of my Daring Days

Our 12 year-old recently said to me, “Today is one of my daring days.” I don’t remember the context.

There was something to overcome and he overcame it. It might have been an orchestra concert to perform in or a tennis match to play. It may have been connecting with a new friend or sharing thinking in class. Regardless, “One of my daring days” stuck with me.

At 12 years-old he understands and can articulate that some days are daring and others are not. He knows that courage isn’t at the ready all time, but a character strength we have to understanding and intentionally enlist. He know’s even thought is’t not always available, that daring is accessible to him. He had access to it on that day and he recognized that access. I believe this sensibility will allow him to have increasingly more daring days, along with more automatic access to them as he grows. He seems to like the feeling. I was thrilled he mentioned it.

In mentioning it, he reminded me that while daring days are wonderful, some days are not daring days. Some days are cautious. Some days we get stuck in fear and find ourselves unable to move. He reminded me it’s ok to live some days within our comfort zones. Even to live some days regressed and motionless. Sometimes I feel like I can conquer any fear and travel any distance. Sometimes I feel locked in place. Human. 

Change, while essential and inevitable, requires daring. Even positive change. Change is wonderful and exhilarating. Change is also loss. Even when we change for the better, the better replaces what was in its place. Whatever was there before the better might not have been as good, but it may have been comfortable. 

“Better,” even though it’s better, can be scary. When we change for the better it often feels like we are then responsible for maintaining. Can we be expected to be our better selves indefinitely? What if we mess it up? There’s lots of pressure in change. On daring days, the motion of change, the growth that accompanies it, and even that pressure can be exciting. 

Our 12 year-old knew he was having a daring day. The possibilities were boundless. After the first daring thing he decided to do more daring things. He told me it was a daring day while we were driving toward home. After he told me he mentioned he was going to write when we got home. If you’re a writer you know it can be a daring thing to do. He was teaming with ideas and enthusiasm. He enlisted the daring he found access to. He maximized its benefits while they were in front of him. 

It’s ok to have days that are not daring. When we do have days that are, we should harness them. We should take action and make plans. We should specifically plan for open-hearted self love and for grace in the knowledge that we will continue experiencing many types of days, and that each one it gift; days we soar, days we doubt, days we show up, and days we hide. Each is a gift. Each has value.

We should ground ourselves in reality by being intentional about identifying our daring days, taking advantage of them, and settling in comfortably to the notion that our moods, our energy and our capacity to engage courageously in the world, both inside and around us, is subject to ebbs and flows. 

It is said that happiness does not come to the person who has the best of everything but to the person who makes the best of everything. We should consider that as best be can, forgive ourselves when we can’t, and dare to keep putting one step in front of the other with every bit of strength we have in every given moment.
In it together for the kids. 

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

by Seth E. Berg -

Maturity, Autonomy and Independence

We’ve been working with our 10 year-old on a decision for the past couple of weeks. There’s a summer opportunity we’ve been excited about for him. He has not been excited with us. In fact, he doesn’t want the opportunity. He tried it last year and found that, for him, the cons outweigh the pros. 

We believe the challenges involved would help him develop increased maturity, autonomy and independence. We think the experience, cons and all, would help him build strength. We wanted him to try it one more time. When we told him that’s what we wanted he told us he felt like he was being forced to do something he didn’t want to do.

This was a tough spot. This is the type of decision parents talk about not having access to instructions for. Do we insist that our ten year-old engage in a growth opportunity because we know it’s good for him, or do we give him space to make the decision for himself because we trust that he knows what’s good or him? Maybe the decision itself is the opportunity. Maybe it’s a chance to let him make a decision and live with it. Maybe it’s a safe way to give him a taste of responsibility. 

We decided to exhaust the dialogue with him. We decided to give him some space and time to think and reflect. We hoped he would see things our way after a while. We worked through thoughts and emotions with him for a couple of weeks. We shared our thinking and our feelings and encouraged him to do the same. We told him it was his decision, and we also tried to try to persuade him. We did our best to keep it guilt free, but we could see him struggling with not wanting to disappoint us. 

We gave him a timeline, at the end of which we sat on the couch together, put forward our closing statements and asked him to make it official. Would he take it on or not? He was energized and lighthearted. We could see he knew the decision was his, and we could see he gained strength from that. I started to see the irony.

With a smile he asked if he could use one of our phones to text the other phone his decision. He asked us not to look until he was clear from the room. He texted and left. This is what we saw when we turned the phone over: “I appreciate everything you’ve said but I need to make a decision, so I’m going to say…um, uh, I don’t want to – but I love you:).”

A demonstration of maturity, autonomy and independence. This experience has me revisiting the balance of goal setting and decision making with my kids as they progress toward independence. Turns out there’s more than one path to learning and growth. Once again, the kid opened my eyes. 

We can’t know for sure what’s right in any given situation. When we provide space and time, when we listen with compassion, and when we allow ourselves to consider other people’s perspectives, I feel like we’re on the right track. 

Thanks for reading…in it together for the kids!

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead.

by Seth E. Berg -

Spending the College Fund on a Pony

The other day our 8 year-old daughter approached me and began with, “Daddy?”

I asked, “Yes?”

She continued, “Are you and mommy saving up money for me to go to college?”

I answered, “We sure are. We’re saving up money for you and your brothers to go to college.”

She said, “Great! How much is it going to cost?”

I told her, “Sweetheart, between the four of you it’s going to cost tens of thousands of dollars.”

“Wonderful!” She said, followed by, “I have an idea.

“Let’s hear it,” I prompted.

With an altogether straight face and not a hint of hyperbole, she introduced an option I had not yet considered. “Instead of sending me to college, you could use that money to buy me a pony.”

I realized she and I have very different perspectives on the matter. I also understood that we both have a stake in the outcome, that we were going to have to agree on a meaningful path forward, and that the meaningful path should result in fulfillment for her. After all, it is her life we were talking about.

Maybe, she would be happier with pony ownership that she would with a college degree. Maybe, if we end up spending her college fund on the purchase of a pony, she would end up becoming a pony farmer. Maybe pony ownership is something she feels strongly about and something she could find joy from. Maybe she would raise the first pony to ever win the triple crown or start a pony-pulled sled team that would eventually compete in the Iditarod. Maybe, if we deny her the pony we would be denying her the opportunity to live out a dream.

On the other hand, it seems to me that lot’s of kids talk about wanting ponies. Maybe it’s a passing fancy. What if depleting the college fund in favor of the pony is the wrong move. What is insisting on a college degree is actually the sound decision. Maybe it’s too soon to turn the long-term planning over to our 8 year-old. Besides, I can think of multiple degree that could potentially lead to any farming. Maybe we take it one step at a time and expand her options. 

Maybe there’s a middle ground that would be suitable for all involved. We could send her to college while supporting the pony dream, and help her understand that there’s more than one way to achieve a goal. We could impart the valuable life lesson that not having something today doesn’t mean you’ll be without it down the road. Maybe insisting on college over a pony would help her understand that sometimes in life, “first thing’s first” is a good way to move about. 

Either way, she had obviously done the research (thank you internet). We want to encourage that exploration. We also want her to know that we value her voice. We want her to know that her perspective matters, and we want her to feel good about the journey she’s on.

In the end, whatever happens, it’s clear to me that whatever we decide we need to work as hard as we can to understand her perspective and stand behind the vision she has for her own life. Kids don’t have a ton of life experiences they can draw on for long-term decision making. While that sometimes causes them to want to spend their college funds on ponies, it also causes them to have open minds and open hearts, and to believe in a wonderful range of possibilities. While steering them in “right” direction is critical, we should simultaneously seek to support them maintaining that magical perspective for as long as they can. 

Thanks for reading…in it together for the kids!

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead.

by Seth E. Berg -

The Positive Power of Celebration!

I recently wrote about a great experience I had with our 10 year-old. A few months ago he decided to “be more mature.” He’s always been a nice kid with a kind heart and good intentions. He’s always done well in school and played well with friends. The “more mature” quest came in response to a smoothing out of some edges of silliness that brought him some attention he didn’t want. 

Initially, he asked if he could get some upgraded technology in exchange for the impending maturity growth spurt. If he showed us that he could handle it, would we get him an iPhone? A laptop? Access to new video games? We told him we’d think about it and he went right to work.

Day after day, week after week, he demonstrated that he was more than capable. Then one day we got the first note from his teacher. The note was a glowing review of how he’d stepped up in class. He was being his best self at home and at school, in front of us and away from us. The kid was not only demonstrating maturity, but integrity, too. 

He even shifted away from the tech reward and eventually told us that it didn’t matter anymore, because doing the right things and being his best self, simply “feels good.” It’s been a great time of growth and a wondrous transformation for us to watch, and to be a part of. Our part has been celebrating. 

We’ve now received multiple notes from his teacher over the past several months. Each time we get a note, we celebrate. We don’t celebrate with cookies or cakes, and we haven’t celebrated with upgrades to technology, but with hugs, words of praise, listening hearts, smiles and gratitude. 

Turns out, celebration is really powerful and really positive. It feels good to be acknowledged, valued and validated. When we mention how proud we are of him, how impressed we are by him, and how incredible he’s been doing, he lights up. Doing good and being recognized for doing good, feels good.

We all respond well to positive feedback and praise, and we all have things about us that can be celebrated. We can look for and focus on moments of achievement in our children and in one another to fuel positive progress and well-being. As we continue seeking comfort, joy and balance during these unique and challenging days, we can be using celebration as a tool. 

Pats on the back, kind notes of recognition, hugs, high fives and messages of awareness and pride all go a long way. Genuine celebrations feel good for those being celebrating and for those doing the celebrating. Let’s continue to put celebration at the core of how we take care of our kids and how we strengthen partnerships with one another. Look for opportunities and take the time…celebrations pay social, emotional and fulfillment dividends along the way!  

Thanks for reading…in it together for the kids!

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead.