There was once a very sad thing an old friend of mine told me about her family. I’m not naming names. I’m not giving away details. The focus is about what I learned from a generically expressed situation.
Their parents had been married for nearly twenty years. Then, the family fell apart. My friend told me that it was due to the wife becoming disenchanted.
That told me one of (likely) two things:
- Either the man turned out not to be who he said he was from the beginning, or…
- There was some kind of family plan that he didn’t follow through on
I learned something in a vicarious manner from that conversation. I learned something critical about how to lead a family.
I prove on a daily basis to my wife that I am who I say I am. That’s squared away.
However, I have lofty goals that I speak about that gets my wife (and some tribe members) awe-inspired.
Meanwhile, these goals are not impossible, but they’re damned difficult. You have to understand the context of where I come from: less than nothing. A few years ago, I was homeless, going to college. I had a myriad of health issues, both mental and physical.
Most of you already know the story. Boo hoo me. I’m not going to get into details.
The point of this is how I’ve learned to lead my family like I’ve learned to lead a business. This comes as I develop into a better and more effective person.
I’m *far* from broke. My credit’s almost perfect. Yet, I’m not where I’d like to be. We’re not where we’d like to be.
Meanwhile, we take my daughter to the park regularly to play with both other kids and to explore her motor skills. The other day, we weren’t at the park; we were are home. Though, my daughter was using my legs as a slide. As she slid down my legs, yelling, “Daddy, make a slide!”
“Okay.” *straightens legs*
My wife said, “Yeah, we’re going to need to install our own little park on our land in Alaska. She said this with great hope, and without a single iota of doubt that she was going to get there, not a single doubt in my character to deliver a promise.
But, what got me thinking was this: “Wait a minute,” I thought to myself without speaking aloud. “How much closer *are* we, actually, to getting to Alaska?”
During the first year, we made a ton of great steps. We got the land we needed to start with. We already own the land, paid for in full. We decided on the precise house/s we want.
However, during the second year, I realized that I didn’t make any *direct* steps to getting closer to Alaska.
I spent a lot of money to rebrand our company, OMI Firm (the website’s currently under construction because of some theme bugs). I spent a lot of money doing a ton of marketing experiments. I spent a lot of money building the initial remote team for Wolven Industries and developing a conceptual prototype.
Overall, I gained a ton of knowledge and experience. I might even qualify for an honorary doctorate in business at this point.
However, while that’s all nice and good, none of that is what I *promised.* I failed to get us closer to building in Alaska because of two critical flaws in my character:
- My likelihood to chase too many rabbits at one time
- My introversion
I can break down ideas in detail that make sense. Starting on them also isn’t that much of a problem with me. I always have the intent to finish; I don’t lie. However, what occurs is two-fold:
- I learn throughout the process of chasing the initial idea, which leads to the development of new ideas.
- I get bored after a certain point, which leads to imaginative wandering in my head (which you can see in my writing), which leads to the development of new ideas.
That’s how that happens.
My introversion is another beast altogether. It’s why I hate doing live
So, considering my flaws in mind, and what I take responsibility for not accomplishing during the previous year, I don’t want to become comfortable and distracted by the ego-inflation that occurs when I gain knowledge and master skills…while not actually using those new powers to get us as a family (and tribe) where we need to go.
I don’t want several years to go by, and for my wife to lose the twinkle in her eye when she speaks about me or what I’m doing.
So, I decided to hold a family meeting. And I held it in the same style that I would have held a business meeting.
It was highly effective.
First, I went over how I’ve failed. I
In doing so, I reassessed my wife’s skills and how she’s continued her education throughout the previous year. I reassessed what skills I developed during the previous year, as well.
Then, I laid out a specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and time-based list of objectives we need to accomplish, to get from where we are to where we need to be as a team, based on our strengths and weaknesses.
It was a wonderful experience and effective for organizing the family. Because then, at the end of this year, I can say: “Okay, so we did x, y, and z to get closer to our family goal.”
This prevents any logical reason why my wife would become disenchanted with my character in the way that it happened with what my friend told me how it happened to their family.
What I’ve learned from the experience is that your family members can be team members if you allow them. Having family meetings to explain a unifying purpose that benefits all members in it gives a “why” to actively communicate with each other and work together as a unit. This helps to prevent arguments, or overcome tiny things that would lead to
I recommend all men to try doing that. Set a goal for your family (with your girlfriend, or whoever), and actively take the lead with responsibility. Don’t be ashamed of your flaws. Admit where you’re wrong, and hold yourself accountable (publicly, if necessary) to be the man you said you were at the beginning of the relationship.
My wife didn’t ask for a meeting. She didn’t make any indicator that she doubted anything; I just knew it had to be done. You should know what needs to be done for your