(Note: this article was published in SuccessNet Magazine. BNI is a business networking group)
Have you ever heard a BNI member say about another member, “They are so lucky, they get referrals all the time”? As most members are positive individuals, you might not have. But let’s think about that statement. Is that member really lucky, or do they have more one to one meetings than anyone else? Are they lucky, or do they have either a referral or a guest, every week? Is just fate, or have they served on the leadership team, helped organize chapter events or gone out of their way to meet every new member who joins the chapter? The member who might choose to complain with “some people have all the luck” might want to remember the old saying, “The harder I work, the luckier I get.”
You have heard it said many times that BNI is about farming, not hunting. It is about building long term relationships and a high level of trust between the members. That does not happen by luck, but only by design. BNI works as hard as you do. With almost a hundred thousand members worldwide, something is working and not just for a few “lucky” members. If its been a while since you went through MSP training, take a look at your notebook and see if you can pull out some ideas that you haven’t tried yet. If there is a member who is receiving the number and quality of referrals that you would like to receive, take them to lunch and pick their brain for ideas. Remember, Givers Gain, so it is always a win-win when members help each other out. So today, get out there, get busy and get lucky.
Becoming a Father
(Submitted to Helium.com)
“Honey, guess what?”
As men, we know instinctively what the answer to that particular questions is: “I’m pregnant”! And considering that our primary reason for being on this planet is to propagate the species, our range of reactions to the news is astounding. Joy, fear, sorrow, elation and apprehension, often all at the same time.
My wife told me the happy news about two months after we got married. Technically, since I had inherited a son upon getting married (my stepson was five at the time), I already had some experience with fatherhood. However, I had not gone through the whole pregnancy-childbirth process and felt the same flood of emotions as any expectant father. Let me make one thing quite clear; the expression “we’re pregnant” is a load of diaper filler. WE were most certainly not pregnant. At no time did I cry for no reason (I always had a reason), complain that my nipples hurt (the clothespin thing happened before we got married), throw up on a daily basis (not a sexy look for any woman) or complain that I couldn’t see my feet (if you saw my feet, you would know that would be a blessing.) There is a reason that our contribution to the human life cycle is limited to the first stage: If men had to be pregnant, the species would have become extinct a long time ago.
After I got over the initial surprise, my mind ran through the usual thoughts. How in the world am I going to support one more person? At the time, I was making about ten dollars an hour as a locksmith (about seventeen years ago now) and barely making ends meet as it was. We lived in a small, two bedroom apartment in a less than savory part of town. My wife was working also and my stepson was going to daycare. Pretty typical for most young couples.
In spite of my mild anxiety, I absolutely loved the changes that occurred in my wife’s body as the weeks and months progressed. I don’t know about glowing, but I could not get enough of her. I found it fascinating that her belly continued to grow, but it was smooth and firm. Her breasts filled out and it was like Christmas every day (well, I am a man after all). I felt my son kick for the first time on my birthday. I remember it like it happened yesterday. My wife developed complications and my son was born eight weeks early. I went to see him in the NICU every day for almost six weeks. You would never know it now. At sixteen, he’s five foot nine inches tall (I’m five seven), weighs about one hundred sixty pounds and is incredibly handsome (thanks for the genes, mom). I would not trade those experiences for anything in the world and I pity those men whose attitudes don’t allow them to enjoy the process. I hope my sons enjoy becoming fathers as much as I did (just not anytime soon.)
Common Mistakes Made While Camping
I grew up camping, hunting, hiking and canoeing. I belonged to the Boy Scouts for a number of years. Give me a pack, a sleeping bag and I'm ready to go. It's difficult for me to imagine anyone not loving the great outdoors, and I have a good imagination. As it turns out, not quite good enough.
When I met my wife, it was my heartfelt desire to share with her my love of nature and all its primitive beauty. I was in search of my inner primal man. My wife, on the other hand, was searching for her inner mall woman. This brings us to mistake #1: Camping with someone who is unclear on the concept. Some of the warning signs that will help you avoid this mistake include; observing your partner packing items like black pumps, makeup and cream rinse; inquiries from her about the type of food they serve and the fact that her pack weighs more than she does. I was newly in love (this should be a corollary to this rule) and oblivious the signs of the disaster to come.
I had planned our route up an easy trail in Yosemite National Park. We started out on a gorgeous spring day, the sun was shining and the temperature was seventy degrees. After checking that we had all our gear (and transferring half of hers to my pack), we parted company with our vehicle and strode into the wilderness. I was feeling like a million bucks and eager to demonstrate my knowledge to my new love. This brings us to mistake #2: Never assume your enthusiasm is shared by your partner. I pointed out all types of flora and fauna and poured forth my vast store of information on all things forest. She was mostly silent for the first hour (also not a good sign) and I took this to mean that she was listening intently to my monologue.
We reached a spot on the trail that over looked a small waterfall, so I decided we would stop for a break. I turned to help her with her pack and the look on her face burned itself into my retinas. She was beet red, her eyes were barely more than slits and her jaw was clenched tightly shut. I asked her if she was ok and she asked me if we were there yet. Hmmmmmm. This was the first point at which I suspected this vacation might not go quite as I had planned. I helped my love take off her pack and lean it up against a tree. I handed her a canteen of water and told her to have a seat and rest. If I wasn't sure about the trip at this point, her next words removed all doubt. With all of the enthusiasm of a child going to the dentist, she asked me; When are we going to get there? Yes, this might be a bit more challenging than I thought it would.
After fifteen minutes or so, her composure had returned a bit, so we donned our packs and proceeded down the trail. It was mid June and I figured that as long as we had our jackets, the weather should be pretty nice. Mistake #3: The severity of the weather will be directly proportional to inexperience of your partner and directly proportional to the volume of her whining. We had been on the trail for nearly three hours and stopped for lunch. My lady seemed to be struggling a bit under the weight of her pack, so I volunteered to prepare the meal while she rested.
As I did so, I noticed that there were quite a few more clouds in the sky than there had been that morning. I was an eternal optimist (I have since been reformed) and assumed they would pass. By the time we had finished lunch and had our gear stowed again, the wind had picked up and the temperature had dropped ten degrees. The earlier silence I had enjoyed was now replaced with a steady stream of comments relating to the stupidity of walking through the forest with so much weight and how we were going to get rained on. I promised that we would set up camp at the first suitable location. Upon reaching said spot, the wind was blowing at a steady thirty knots or so and the first rain drops were starting to fall. I found a high, level area in which to put up our tent and began unpacking all the necessary parts. I was nearly half way through the process when my angel inquired about the location of the restroom.
Mistake #4: Not making full disclosure of the camping process to the initiate camper. Surely they must be nearby if I had chosen this place to set up camp. I was torn between raucous laughter and concern for my general well being. Self preservation won out and I instructed my neophyte on the freedom of choosing whatever spot she liked. The look of incredulity on her face was almost more than I could take and I very nearly sacrificed my life in a hearty belly laugh. I was gentleman enough to explain the process of positioning and pulling her clothes out of harm's way and had thought to bring actual bathroom tissue. I didn't think she was quite ready for leaf wiping yet. After more than a few minutes convincing her that she would, indeed, have to squat in the woods and nature's call becoming rather intense, my future bride stomped off into the woods muttering some very unladylike expressions under her breath.
By the time she returned, I had the tent pitched and both packs stowed inside. This was fortunate as she no sooner appeared in our campsite than the heavens opened and the monsoon season began in Yosemite. In spite of our best efforts (and her screaming), we were both soaked before we could make it into the tent. Changing clothes in a two man hiking tent is not nearly as sexy as it sounds, especially when the temperature inside is much colder than it is outside. I attributed this to the chill emanating from my compatriot who did not seem to be at all enjoying our adventure. She left no doubt that there would be nothing romantic happening inside our tent, ever. Another fantasy dashed on the rocks of reality. Mistake #5: Assuming that close proximity to your loved one and complete privacy will conducive to romance.
The rain showed no signs of stopping and I was reminded in a rather petulant tone that we had not eaten in some time. I found that I was feeling a bit hungry, so I began to unpack some of the freeze dried rations I had packed for just such an occasion. I was rather proud of my future wife's ability to understand that building a fire and actually cooking would not be an option given our current weather conditions. She was able to eat most of the fare, but seemed to consume large quantities of water with each bite. Apparently, in her opinion, freeze dried food should be served in prisons to discourage convicts from ever returning. I personally felt this was a bit harsh, but respected her right to her opinion. Mistake #6: Not introducing newbies to some of the lesser know aspects of the camping process.
The rain did eventually let up at which point it was demanded that I build a campfire. I explained that after three hours of torrential rain, it was unlikely that there would be any dry wood with which to build such a fire. My answer was found to be unacceptable and the temperature in the tent dropped another ten degrees, prompting me to grab boots and flashlight and make a pilgrimage into the forest in search of firewood. Mistake #7: Failure to explain the mechanics of fire lighting to the uninitiated. After nearly an hour, I had managed to scrounge up a small pile of sticks and twigs that I hoped would be dry enough for combustion. Although the purist in me balked, my practical nature longed for a small container of highly flammable liquid to aid in my attempt. Following another twenty or so minutes of Herculean efforts on my part, I finally managed to coax a meager flame to life. I slowly built up the fire until it was respectable by any standard. I had assumed that this would be enough to persuade my mate to make an appearance, but this was not the case. Her reasoning for having a fire was, as she put it, to keep all those terrible animals away from the tent. I refrained from mentioning that for that to be effective, the fire would have to be stoked all night. I felt sure that getting some sleep would be in my plans and this was quite at odds with staying up all night to keep a campfire burning.
As it turned out, Mother Nature rescued me from this fate by dropping another three inches of precipitation on us and effectively extinguishing my hard won campfire. This was quite upsetting to the lady of the tent who had a difficult time sleeping, a state she was only too happy to share with yours truly. Personally, I thought the thunder and lightning were spectacular and explained how uncommon it was for our location and time of year. My words were lost as my love buried her head in her sleeping bag. She did eventually seek the comfort of my arms and although not entirely the romantic rendezvous I had imagined, I found it to be quite pleasant. Mistake #8: Never underestimate the power of Mother Nature.
We were awakened the next morning by sunshine streaming into our tent. I peeked outside to find the world bright, sunny and freshly washed. I managed to find enough dry wood with which to build another fire and began preparing breakfast. I felt that a hearty meal would indeed improve the spirits of my tent mate. Mistake #9: Never assume that any bad situation will ever get better. My blushing bride to be did respond to the smell of coffee brewing and peeked one eye through the tent flap. I encouraged her to join me in the beautiful morning to which she responded with some grumbled comments I couldn't quite make out. I heard her begin to get dressed and concentrated on the preparation of our morning fare. The next few minutes are somewhat of a blur, given the speed at which they occurred. I distinctly remember a squeal of surprise emanating from the tent, then a string of words that I had not heard from my lover up to that point.
The tent flap was torn open by a creature I barely recognized as my future wife. Her hair was off in several directions at once, she was in a tank top and in the process of getting her jeans pulled up over her well defined rear end, hopping from one foot to the other. As she attempted this exercise, she lost her balance and pitched forward in my direction. Being ever the gentleman and not wanting her to sustain an injury, I attempted to catch her and break her fall. The end result had both of us on the ground in a tangle of limbs and clothes and her screaming about some vicious beast that was trying to eat her. After helping her get dressed and get to her feet, I went to investigate the situation. I discovered that the beast was indeed a small chipmunk that was very interested in a pack of peanuts that had been left open in our tent. I threw caution to the wind and laughed hysterically until tears streamed down my face. I feel that I am quite lucky to still be alive, but the hilarity of the moment still brings a smile to my face. After nearly twenty years of marriage, my wife still does not find it quite as funny as I do.
I managed to calm down my rattled lady and fed her a rather respectable breakfast of bacon, eggs, biscuits and coffee. Her spirits improved a bit and I began taking down our tent in preparation for the day's hike. I was fully prepared to continue on our way in spite of the few challenges we had faced. The future mother of my children had some very different ideas. She asked how long it would take to get back to the car. I was crushed. I had planned three days of outdoor adventure and felt that we had barely started. Seeing the look on my face, the woman of my dreams kissed me and asked how far we would have to drive to the nearest motel. What she whispered in my ear convinced me that I might yet salvage the trip. We retraced our previous day's trek and made it to the car by early afternoon. There is a wonderful bed and breakfast in the middle of Yosemite that I highly recommend. It very likely saved my marriage before it ever started. Mistake #10: Never underestimate the power of a woman. The fact that my wife still agreed to marry me is nothing short of amazing. I did, of course, have to promise that I would not so much as mention the C word in our home ever again. I feel it has been a small concession on my part. The closest we have come to roughing it since that trip has been staying in a hotel on Maui and walking in the sand, and I am at peace with my inner primal man.