Remembrances for a Memorial Day 2010

With his back stiff against the dry adobe wall, Papi Conpelo lowered his tired body to the earth. He raised his exhausted knees to his chest, sat and rested. His eyes steadied into a faraway stare. Shimmering mirages caused by the day's heat still hung over the deserted roads but even the mirages and their effects were beginning to relax and dissipate. "Well mi hijo, words are powerful things." he offered to the curious lad dropping down beside him, "Some people use them to heal long-standing wars, wars of ideas, wars of money and power, wars whose reasons for being have long died yet the wars continue. That's not easy, but when words heal they bring others together. Those people who do this, they know the way of being human. They serve a great good. However, some people use words to divide in an effort to serve ideologies blurred by time. They have lost touch with the true origin of their beliefs, and to survive they invent a continuing string of reasons to keep the ideology alive. They think they know, but maybe they're just guessing. Maybe it's because they have win or control or just mess with people. Maybe it's because they feel alone and this cures to their loneliness for a while. Maybe they are just lost. And some people," he paused and sighed, "- well some people don't use words at all. They are used by the words of others. Que triste."

(excerpt from the Life and Times of Papi Conpelo)

May 31, 2010 @ 6 a. m. PDT. I wake at sunrise, the sky's light slowly changing. It is Memorial Day, a day to remember those who served and who now are gone. I worked in my yard yesterday, beginning to plant seed for a new lawn needed to cover barren ground out back. This morning I will continue a short while. I decide this planting will be my morning meditation.

One hour later. Midst my task - digging earth, scattering fertilizer and seed - I hear the bell-in-tower-across-town as it tolls "seven". Palm trees, plum trees, citrus trees and Japanese maple grace my yard. The leaves and fronds are green, yet as with people, shades differ. The sounding bell reminds me I have only a short time to do what I am here for before visiting the memorial park as I did one year ago today.

Memorialize - me·mo·ri·ize - verb [trans.]
Preserve the memory of; commemorate:
the novel memorialized their childhood summers.

I think of my dad.

Robert O. Giroux. Born September 21, 1921. Graduated Prescott High School. Then attended Tempe Normal School, now called Arizona State University. Dropped out to join the Army in December 1941 after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Enlisted as a horse soldier, but graduated Officer Candidate School (OCS) and entered into the Army of the U.S. as combat engineer assigned to the 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division. Saw combat in two very historic battles: Kasserine Pass in North Africa (1943) and the Casino in Italy (1944). Received the Purple Heart for wounds suffered in combat. Honorably and medically discharged. Rehabilitated and learned to walk again. Worked as disk jockey for KYCA Radio, Prescott. Met his sweetheart, Caroline, before shipping out to Africa and Europe for the fight. Married her on his return. Together they traded labor for rent of a chicken coop in Tucson. They cleaned out the chicken manure, rebuilt walls, scrubbed floors, and converted it into their first home.


May 28, 2010 - The Memorial Day weekend begins. I receive email from dear friend, a former colleague and decorated retired US Army Special Forces Lieutenant Colonel, who saw combat in SE Asia.

My friend, a patriotic American and perhaps feeling especially sensitive at time of the year, is passing this email long to me (and others) - email that someone has likewise passed along to him. The title: "I'LL BET YOU DIDN'T SEE THIS IN THE NEWSPAPER OR ON THE 6 O'CLOCK NEWS." It contains the story is of Navy SEAL Mike Monsoor, a petty officer second class. Monsoor posthumously received the Congressional Medal of Honor (CMH) for falling onto a grenade in Iraq, thus saving others from certain death. The words are powerfully stirring. Yet, as I read the details a feeling of skepticism swells inside of me. I begin to wonder and question the motivation behind the email's initial dispatch. No, I'm not questioning my friend. He is above reproach. Rather I am questioning whomever it was that initially sent this piece out. My wonder grows as I take in the last few lines from the originating author (whose name is nowhere to be found). The email ends with this:

"This should be front-page news! Instead of the garbage we listen to and see every day. Here's a good idea! Since the mainstream media won't make this news then we choose to make it news by forwarding it. I am proud of all the branches of our military. If you are proud too, please pass this e-mail on. If not, then delete this e-mail. But rest assured, that the fine men and women of our military will continue to serve and protect your freedom and right to do so! GOD BLESS AND KEEP OUR TROOPS SAFE."

My guilt button has been poked.

If delete this email, then the author's words imply that I am not proud of the military, and I'll feel like scum. "What's the deal here?" I wonder. The honorable men and women who I served with when I was in the Army were quiet types and did not have the need to lay this kind of trip on anyone. So I go back and read the email again -- this time more slowly. The specifics and buzzwords continue to grab my attention. They float to the surface like so much unnecessary stuff in a punchbowl.

The email says that Monsoor died September 29th, 2009, and was awarded the CMS "last week." It indicates that his military specialty and rank was "Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD), Second Class". It says that his funeral was honored by the attendance of "Every Navy Seal - 45 to be exact - that Mike Monsoor saved that day." According to the email those forty-five men attended his funeral and removed their gold trident SEAL pins from their uniforms and slapped them hard onto the rosewood casket embedding each as the casket passed by. The email takes a step further and includes a picture of a trident-covered coffin. It further declared, "It was said, that you could hear each of the 45 slaps from across the cemetery! By the time the rosewood casket reached the grave site, it looked as though it had a gold inlay from the 45 trident pins that lined the top!"

My skepticism gets the better of me and I do some research which produces the following:

• Yes, Monsoor gave his life, but it was September 26, 2006 (not 2009 as the email declared).

• Yes, Monsoor was a Petty Officer, Second Class - but not EOD.

• Yes, Monsoor's action saved the lives of his fellow SEALS by falling on a grenade, but the number he saved was three, not forty-five.

• On April 8, 2008, Monsoor was posthumously awarded the CMH - not "last week."

• The coffin pictured in the email is actually believed to be that of Navy SEAL James Suh who died in Afghanistan in 2005.

So I craft a message back to my old colleague and friend. Time to inform him of the above and ask if he has any idea why someone would distribute such an email to us (him and me and others) with the need to change the story and fill it with inaccuracies and embellishments. Mike Monsoor certainly should be honored. Anyone who falls on a grenade or takes a bullet for his or her fellow human being is a hero. If, however, someone deliberately used Mike Monsoor's story & death, and monkey-ed with it, then that person has dishonored Monsoor and made mockery of all those who have served. That person has likewise dishonored those who have fathered and mothered, brother-ed and sister-ed, uncle-ed and aunt-ed and cousin-ed those who for generations have worn uniforms here and around the world.

I conclude my note back to my friend with:

This weekend and on Memorial Day I'm remembering you and those who gave their lives, and am wishing you and all of your comrades (and mine), living and passed, all the best and thanking you for the great service you gave to our country and to me and my children and grandchildren. When I swore in July 1, 1968, I thought that I would be fighting in a war. But I never had to step into combat or harms way. We both know that for this I am fortunate. Thank you for what you gave.

If I have made any mistakes in my research then I accept responsibility for that, and I'll do a better job next time, and I sincerely apologize. If you feel it is worth passing my message back up the same chain through whoever passed it on to you so it reaches its source and then that source can know that someone is watching - and then stand corrected, then please do. I wish people would stop using the death of our brave soldiers, sailors, airmen/women, marines, coastguardsmen, etc., to create divisiveness in our country by inaccurately implying certain people are not respectful of our military men and women, or the notion that we do in fact need a strong military to keep our country and our people safe from those who wish us ill.



May 31, 2010. It is now 11:45a.m. PDT. I walk away from the cemetery overlooking Petaluma. This year's Memorial Day services are complete. Around me stand a few hundred people: moms and dads, grandparents and kids, brothers and sisters, old friends and comrades and once-upon-a-time neighbors. Different races, different religions, different ages - every color of skin. The Stars and Stripes is not the only flag adorning the sky. Wow! Flowers are laid. Taps is played. I ask myself what have we learned -really? As the few hundred of us there begin our walks home Bob Dylan's "Blowing in the Wind" fills the air.

Memorial - me·mo·ri·al - noun
1 something, esp. a structure, established to remind people of a person or event
· [as adj.] intended to commemorate someone or something:
2 chiefly historical a statement of facts, esp. as the basis of a petition

Memories of my father return.
My thought-byte obituary of my father continues.

- - - married his sweetheart, Caroline. Together they moved into a run-down chicken coop in Tucson, cleaned it out and made it their home. He went back to college and graduated the University of Arizona's school of mines. Worked decades as a mining engineer - mostly for Kennecott Copper Company's in the Ray Mine. Probable best Army buddy: a soldier named Mike Bellinski (sic). Probably best civilian buddies: two mine employees, Wally Taylor and Melvin Hawman. His four favorite songs: (1) Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, (2) Deep Purple, (3) Show Me The Way To Go Home,(4) Old Soldiers Never Die They Just Fade Away. Succumbed and died October 15, 1981 to injuries sustained in combat thirty-seven years earlier, injuries that included massive scarring - some of which were magnified by pre-existing conditions sustained during childhood. None of his scars could be physically seen, yet all of his scars were felt and observed.


May 31, 2010. 3:45pm. I finish a meeting and conversation with my friend and long-time Petaluma resident, Randy Cheek. I'm sitting alone at Peet's Coffee shop. I pick up a newspaper, open it and read a story that has unfolded this past month regarding two individuals running for the US Senate. If elected each will have a strong voice regarding how our nation's treasure will be spent, and how young Americans will fare when sent into harms way. These office seekers are from opposing political parties. Over the past few days both of these men have had to find ways to excuse remarks they have made regarding their individual military service. One, a Democrat, said that he served in Viet Nam. Fact - he did not. The other, a Republican, said he once received a specific prestigious military award. Fact - he did not. Each uses or implies the words "I misspoke" as his excuse.

Question. Why did they embellish their record with these untruths?

These two guys lied. They would be better served, and so would we, if they would just fess up and use exact language on themselves; then drop out of their respective Senate races, and save us the future bother, time, energy and money.

Remember this: we are all subject to influence of words.
What words influence you? Who speaks or once spoke them? For the sake of what purpose were these words spoken, honestly?
How is that influence benefiting you and others?
What is that influence costing you and others?
Who and what are you influencing by your words?
For how long and for the sake of what purpose?



Writing on his experiences as a lawyer

"I had learnt to find out the better side of human nature and to enter men's hearts. I realized that the true function of a lawyer was to unite parties riven asunder. The lesson was so indelibly burnt into me that a large p[art of my time during the twenty years of my practice as a lawyer was occupied in bringing about private compromises of hundreds of cases. I lost nothing thereby - not even money, certainly not my soul"

- Mohandas K. Gandhi, The Story of My Experiments with Truth, p 134. (1927)

©Lance Giroux, May 2010

17 Days in April- Reflections on Life's Fragileness

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.

For want of a shoe the horse was lost.

For want of a horse the rider was lost.

For want of a rider the battle was lost.

For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.

And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

Though we may want to live in the illusions of certainty and perpetual strength, the guarantees of relationships and fortunes lasting forever, we actually live quite temporarily on the fragile edge of life - and more than we sometimes acknowledge. We can demand entitlement, but entitlement, as with certainty and guarantee, is an illusion. The reality is, life is fragile. It changes in a moment with simple decisions. It's as fragile as the thin crust that covers the molten raw energy churning just below the earth's surface. Life's simple preciousness and profoundness happens each day, and often without predictability.

April 7, 2010. I leave Petaluma on schedule. The plan: fly to the Netherlands to deliver the Samurai Game® (April 10-11) for The Avalon Group, then proceed to Poland April 12 - 19 to deliver it three times there for clients of Aiki Management.

April 10, 2010. It is 8:00 pm in Utrecht. I've been here two days. Like the buses and trains I've taken into the city to see the sights, everything has proceeded neatly, as predicted. I walk into my hotel room now that today's work is complete. The class began this morning and has fully occupied my attention. It's over for the evening. The people are on their way home or back to their hotel rooms following a richly rewarding experience regarding the vividness of life played out through our workshop. Per usual most of them "died" during the play - all symbolic of course - kind of like being "red flagged" during a soccer match. Tomorrow we will reconvene to talk and share our lessons learned. I sit at my desk, open my laptop, and begin to read today's news, about which until this moment I am unaware:

Polish president among 96 killed in plane crash

SMOLENSK, Russia, April 10 (Reuters) - Poland's President Lech Kaczynski, its central bank head and the country's military chief were among 96 people killed when their plane crashed in thick fog on its approach to a Russian airport on Saturday.

The president's wife and several other high-ranking government officials were also aboard the Tupolev Tu-154 that plunged into a forest about two km (1.3 miles) from the airport in the western Russian city of Smolensk.

"The political consequences will be long-term and possibly will change the entire future landscape of Polish politics," said Jacek Wasilewski, professor at the Higher School of Social Psychology in Warsaw.

Polish government spokesman Pawel Gras said the country would hold elections after the death of Kaczynski, who was 60 and had been president since 2005.

"In line with the constitution, we will have to hold an early presidential poll," Gras said. "For now, the speaker of the lower house of parliament, Bronislaw Komorowski, is automatically ... the acting president."

Russian television showed the smouldering fuselage and fragments of the plane scattered in a forest. A Reuters reporter saw a broken wing some distance from the rest of the aircraft.

Russia's Emergencies Ministry said 96 people were aboard the government plane, including 88 members of a Polish delegation en route to commemorate Poles killed in mass murders in the town of Katyn under orders from Soviet leader Josef Stalin in 1940.

Twenty minutes later. I open my email account to find a message waiting from my colleague, Pawel Olesiak in Krakow, Poland. I am to travel there day-after-tomorrow to conduct three similar programs with him. I read his words:

Hi Lance, I'm very sorry to tell that, because of today tragedy of Poland: death of Polish president and 86 government people and Polish national deep mourning we have decided to cancel the Samurai game in this week. Any way we are waiting for you. On Monday we'll inform all of participants. Very, very sad Pawel

April 12, 2010. I arrive Krakow. The weather is forecast to be partly sunny looks to turn otherwise. I take a bus to the RELAX Pensjonat B&B, unpack and walk to the "Any Time" restaurant and I enjoy dinner. I take along a book, "Horse Soldiers", a true accounting of life's unpredictability in midst of intensity and change.

April 13, 2010. It is 10:00 a.m. Pawel Bernas, long-time friend and partner of Pawel Olesiak, arrives at the RELAX. "All work has been cancelled," he says. "Life is hard. But we are still alive. Let's enjoy what little time we have together."

April 14, 2010. Krakow. The past two days have been low key. We visited historic places, ancient fields and fortresses warred over for a thousand years. There is deep mourning. Conversations are quiet. All theaters are closed. Sports events cancelled. Regardless, we do train a lot of aikido. Poland is an interesting place: young people stand up on crowded busses to offer their seats to older folks; the cemeteries are full of flowers even on non-holidays; the economy is surprisingly vibrant and I'm told it's because Poland was a bit behind the rest of the world when financial crisis hit, so they came back quicker; people of all ages appear in great physical shape - biking, roller-blading, walking and running throughout the parks; cars are racy and small and efficient; mass transit is everywhere available; people freely offer help when and where needed; towns are a blend of the very new and the very old.

Today there is sadness. Except for movies of historical significance, TV stations are broadcasting almost nothing but news of the tragedy and aftermath. Reporters, news anchors, weather forecasters - all wear black - black suits, black ties, black dresses, black bows, black stockings. The clear message, though non-verbal: stop, reflect, and think. On Saturday, three days from now, the largest gathering of world leaders to visit Poland in the last few hundred years will descend on Warsaw. On Sunday their delegations will migrate to Krakow. A great sense of togetherness abounds amongst the Polish people not only with their countrymen, but also with the world at large. The wind seems to whisper, "We are not alone." And, there is excitement that the president of Poland's firm ally, the US, is guaranteed to be here.

There is word regarding the cause of the April 10^th fatal crash. Smolensk air traffic controllers had told the pilot to not land. The Polish president did not want to be late to the ceremonies commemorating the Katyn killings - an historic event they were arriving so as to receive an official apology from Russia for the killing of 22,000 Polish military officers some seventy years prior. Whether the Polish president ordered his pilot to disregard air traffic controllers to not land, or whether the pilot, feeling pressure from within, took it upon himself to land, I don't know today. But the plane crashed because a rushed decision was made in the midst of fog.

Other news - I hear that a volcano is erupting in Iceland.

April 15, 2010. Yesterday early evening I heard Ronn Owens' KGO Radio 810 morning show (Oakland, San Francisco, San Jose) streaming live over the Internet. This morning I turn on Gene Burns, also KGO, doing his evening show and discussing "issues of the day." I don't remember either of them saying much if anything regarding the historical significance of events consuming most of Europe the last few days. But, I listen because on Monday, the 19^th I will travel home. I open my laptop for today's electronic copy:

(Reuters) - A volcanic eruption in Iceland, which has thrown up a 6-km (3.7 mile) high plume of ash and disrupted air traffic across northern Europe, has grown more intense, an expert said on Thursday.

The eruption under the Eyjafjallajokull glacier continued to spew large amounts of ash and smoke into the air and showed no signs of abating after 40 hours of activity, said Pall Einarsson, a geophysicist at the University of Iceland.

The cloud of ash from the eruption has hit air travel all over northern Europe, with flights grounded or diverted due to the risk of engine damage from sucking in particles of ash from the volcanic cloud.

"I guess that means my plane, too." Then I notice email from my travel agent informing me that my flight set for April 19^th is cancelled and that the earliest flight available for my return to the US is now April 24, that is - if the skies allow.

April 17, 2010. I turn 60.

I decide to spend morning feeling the fullness of life as it pulses through the oldest parts of Krakow - a city now in full preparation for tomorrow's state funeral and burial honoring the country's president and first lady. I grab my camera (lest I forget what is here to be witnessed) and begin a long walk. Hundreds of thousands of people are arriving. Lines are forming to special locations where tickets are available for those who will want to view the ceremonies telecast from near the Wawel. Police are everywhere. Large tractor-trailer trucks are delivering thousands of folding chairs for attending dignitaries who will not be able to fit inside the cathedral. Everywhere stand people with cameras. We are witnessing the world watching us. This truly is, as we used to say in the 1970's, "A Happening."

The Olesiak family has invited me to celebrate my birthday at their home for traditional beet soup lunch (my favorite), and cake. "A birthday you won't ever forget," they say. I celebrate so I won't forget.

Late afternoon. We walk Krakow Centrum. The crowds are bigger. Candles everywhere, as are the country's flags draped in black ribbon. No one is rushing to get somewhere else. We are all simply and calmly just here. The atmosphere is thick with respect and patience. As night falls the thin layer of volcanic ash miles above has turned the sun into a brilliant orange ball.

It has been two days since an airplane passed overhead. I am reminded of the eerie silence the air over the US held during the week following 9/11. Obama's flight has been cancelled. The ash has made too risky an Air Force One flight over Europe. I think again: "My plane too."

April 18, 2010. Three or four aircraft from outside Poland make it into Krakow - one or two from Russia, one from Ukraine and another carrying the president of Georgia apparently flying from the US and through a half dozen other countries determined o arrive, albeit late for the funeral but in time for the burial. I watch a Russian plane come and go as I live amidst "The Happening" with 100,000 others standing, sitting and kneeling in the large grassy field know as "Blonia". It is a seven-hour-long moment.

I have been thinking for the past eight days - the loss of one-thing ushers in the advent of another. Surely unseen and unreported economic and political forces are shifting within as well as outside the Polish borders and establishments, again just as the raw lava is shifting beneath Iceland. Sad and stunned as this population is, there are tremendous opportunities and risks at stake here that perhaps we won't see unfold for months or years. But it's a sure bet because a void has been created. And something always moves to fill a void.

April 19, 2010. Pawel Olesiak, Pawel Bernas and their associate, Adam, need to drive to Warsaw for a meeting. I ride with them. Perhaps I can catch a flight because some flights are still showing "departure on schedule". It takes us five hours to get to Warsaw. Along the way the radio reports, "Yesterday in America the US president played golf. Yesterday at the Wawel we buried ours." I feel embarrassed. Someone should have had better foresight. The Warsaw airport, though open this morning, is now closed. I wait for the Pawel's to have their meeting. We drive back to Krakow.

April 20 & 21, 2010. I am in Krakow waiting for the calendar to turn to April 24. I go to the airport and ask to "stand by". That phrase has no meaning.

April 22, 2010. Word arrives just after midnight. A flight is available on April 23. How did that happen? Who knows? Who cares? It happened.

April 23, 2010. I'm in Krakow at 10 am - and then - I am in Frankfurt mid day and then San Francisco and it's 6:30pm. My bus drops me in Petaluma, CA. It is 8 pm.

April 24, 2010. Sonoma County, California. This afternoon my 60^th birthday party is scheduled, held over because of the well-planned trip to Europe, a party almost cancelled because of events in Russia, Poland and Iceland that changed the trip. My mother - 85 years young, yet fragile and with my sister - arrived into Petaluma last night at the same time as me. We decide this morning to attend the annual Petaluma "Better and Egg Days" festivities before heading off to the big party.

The sun is shining at the parade, but mom is feeling cold. She walks to stand in the shade. She faints and falls. She is fortunate. Though she is knocked out cold, only one rib, one wrist and one thumb are broken and one eye blackened. It could have been worse. She won't make the party. Tonight a hospital is her home, but she is alive.

In the ER we discover the cause. In the rush to enjoy the ceremonies of the day, on her terms rather than as nature required, mom made a simple decision to not drink water. The result - dehydration and accompanying drop in blood pressure. Not terribly unlike a pilot's decision made fourteen days prior to ignore a different set nature's signals. The rest - simply a matter of gravity, distance to landing, number of passengers aboard and, of course, the arbitrariness and capriciousness of fate.

Certainty and perpetual strength are illusions, as are the promises (and fears) of long lasting relationships and fortunes. We walk temporarily on the edge of life. We can demand entitlement, and pout for it when it eludes us, yet as with certainty and guarantee, entitlement is as whimsical as fog. Life is fragile. It changes every moment. It's as delicate as the thin layer of land that covers the molten raw energy churning below Earth's crust and the thin layer of air that rides just above that crust. It's as subtle as the intricate motions of the hand responsible for caressing the flight controls of an aircraft descending for a safe homecoming, and the spoken and unspoken words and glances that influence the hand touching throttle and playing the ailerons. It's as delicate as the finger that reaches for a cup of water but yields upon hearing an inner voice that whispers, "wait 'till later." Life's simple preciousness and profoundness happens everyday, as do the players that make up its games. Rarely are either predictable or guaranteed.

Winter 1975.

It is a sunny Sunday Honolulu afternoon. Thirty some of us sit in a room overlooking the expanse of Waikiki's shoreline.A young brash rich fellow full of youth's vinegar and confidence asks,"If you knew you had only one day of life remaining what would you do with that day?"Then he adds, "We should take a few minutes to write our answers to that question."

Summer 1991.

It is a dark northern California night.The Milky Way stretches brilliantly across the black sky. A number of us are preparing to go to bed. A wise elderly athletic gentleman poses the following in preparation for how we will engage with him in a training session that will occupy our next day:"As you leave tonight reflect on the people who have made up your life. Before we see each other tomorrow, sit quietly and write a letter as though it would be the last thing you would ever get to write. This may serve our purpose tomorrow. Don't send the letter. Just write it.As you do, honestly consider who you will write to, what you will say and why."

©Lance Giroux, May 2010

A 30 Day Exercise

When I'm drivin' in my car

And a man comes on the radio

He's tellin' me more and more

About some useless information

Supposed to fire my imagination

- M Jagger / K Richards

The research and evidence is strong. External suggestion as well as auto-suggestion affect your results and your well being, e.g. the words and works of Napoleon Hill, Dr. Dean Edell, Dr. Jill Bolte-Taylor, Dr. Dean Ornish, Dr. Maxwell Maltz, George Leonard, Marcus Aurelius, Lawrence Gonzales, James Allen, John Kabat-Zinn, Ph.D., etc., etc., etc.

The February Allied Ronin e-newsletter topic was Don’t Lose Your Attractiveness by being dragged down into the trap of negative thinking. The article was inspired by communication I was engaged in for over a month as friends, clients and associates related how they were struggling with and bemoaning an economy in turmoil. “How could I have missed this!” – “Where did I go wrong!” – “What am I going to do!?” February’s article urged: (a) we need to own up to where we are; yet (b) not overindulge ourselves with self-doubt and/or worry lest we destroy the very attractiveness that creates the healthy foundations and relationships upon which constructive results depend.

A preponderance of fear-based advertising and communication pervades the TV, radio and print medium. My opinion, yes, though I think it’s safely accurate. No new news here. But I believe we are numb, anesthetized to just how prevalent this is. Haven’t noticed? Perhaps it’s time you did. Why? Because, ideas that journey past the outer ear do impact you and me in real and tangible ways. Until and unless we notice this, our senses will dull, as will our thinking and our capacity to act with a clear and discerning mind.

Whether the radius of your world is measured by the distance between where you stand and the nearest traffic sign, or some spot on the other side of the globe, what you hear, see and feel generate perspectives and creative capacities that are then walked into and called “reality”. Our perspectives perpetuate to such an extent that we no longer view them as perspectives – rather, we begin to view them as truths. Every so often we should stop, look, listen and take stock of the subtle ideas we are being fed by others. Then we ought take action, including owning up to past perspectives that were mistaken or held in error.

Many (me too) consider themselves students of the mind-body connection, or the mind-wallet-bank account connection, or the mind-relationship connection. At some point in our lives we started tuning in to what our thinking was actually being barraged by. We listened to a talking head, or watched a video, e.g. The Secret, and latched onto the notion that, as my old teacher used to say, “To Think Is To Create.” Then most run off to try to push-think hopes and dreams into material stuff. But in the doing so, we rarely discipline ourselves to attend (i.e. pay attention) to the radio or TV, or the images in ads, or the political spin masters as they weave paragraphs laden with doublespeak and shoddy premised foundations. Rare is the person disciplined enough to notice his or her own resultant self talk! If for no other reason than this a meditation practice is important.

Whether you consider yourself an ardent student or just a dabbler in this regard, you probably have a degree of understanding that outside thought and suggestion affects your grey matter. Yes? But, just because our technologies (computers, google & Yahoo, twitter, etc.) add seeming ease to life does not relieve us of the responsibility and accountability to guard the thinking mind. Advertisers know that subtle shifts in image and tone affects the buying public. News media (TV, radio, print, online) know that the pictures and words that confront you will color your perspective. CNN will show you one image of a smiling politician, while FOX News shows a growling image of the same politician (and vice versa) … both images used to report the identical event but shaping a different story. Why? Because it’s not the news they are selling, it’s something else. Doubt it? Then why so much money spent monthly on political campaigns after the elections are over? --- and on advertising the reason you should buy a certain burger, attend a particular brand name church this weekend, scent to your skin with this one oh sooo good and chug that brew at the party?

Case in point: almost every politician says, “I’m against negative campaigning!” Yet negative campaigning (i.e. fear-based selling) continues decade after decade. How come? Maybe we’ve just normalized to it. Perhaps we’re even comforted by it. Like a frog in the proverbial water-slowly-coming-to-boil we’ve been swimming in “it’s just the way things are” and we no longer recognize the water is there, let alone the temperature rising. Kind of like smelling foot odor as the tennis shoes come off after a game. Then the smell goes away. Except, the smell doesn’t go away. But our discerning mind sure does.

And another: I’ve lost count of the times I’ve heard radio talk show hosts rant and rave about a particular injustice, only break away for ads that promotes the very injustice or notion the host is hammering against. What’s going on? Show business, that’s what.

Many of us (or the companies that employ our time and talents) have spent sizeable amounts on workshops, courses, lectures, videos, books and audio programs calling us to our attend to our thinking. But what practices do we put in place and return to on a regular basis for our well being after the course or seminar or lecture is over?

For the sake of clarity, I’m not necessarily addressing wellbeing as physical health and wealth, though wellbeing in those domains is important. I’m addressing the wellbeing of the emotion and spirit, and the well being national consciousness and global awareness.

So, with the above as background grist, here’s an exercise (or practice) to engage in for the next 30 days, with full knowledge that something will come your way to distract you from hanging in there with this. If you are willing to take on this simple exercise, I recommend you give it a fair shot for the full 30-day duration.

Here are the tools to use for the exercise:

(1) a pen or pencil,

(2) a small pocketsize notebook,

(3) a brain (yours) and a degree of alertness,

(4) a willingness to pay attention to what is going on around you: the conversations; the TV; the songs, ads and talk on radio; the pictures, symbols and words in print and internet medium strung together to convince of a point of view OR worse yet something that some one say YOU NEED, that you didn’t know beforehand that YOU NEEDED!

The exercise.

Stay alert, pay attention and note each communication or piece of rhetoric that meets your eyes and/or ears that is either fear-based, guilt-based, greed-based, or entitlement-based --- or any combination of the four. It doesn’t matter if these come in the form of advertisement, political commentary (regardless the brand name of the espousing political party), religious conviction (no matter the brand name of the espousing church), etc. At this stage the source doesn’t matter. What does matter is: (1) pay attention, (2) take note, and (3) ask at least these three questions: “What is being said, fed, sold or told?” “Why this?” “Who, besides myself, stands to benefit if I am convinced or agree with what I am hearing and/or what is being implied?” Listen to it all. Look at what you record. Sift through it at the end of the day. Look for patterns.

Pay attention to what you are being told by others that “YOU WANT” or that “YOU NEED” – especially in advertisements - that you didn’t know YOU actually WANTed or that YOU actually NEEDed prior to the suggestion that was so generously offered in double or triple doses by advertisers, talking heads, politicians and/or the oh-so-righteous. It may sound something like this: “What the American People want is (blah, blah, blah) ” OR “Surely you know, truly smart people understand the need for (yatta, yatta, yatta)” OR “What that teacher really meant way back then was (this and that, this and that, all translated to fit today’s context – a context non-existent way back then)

In some ways, this exercise may become a rather humorous. You might find yourself laughing in a few days. You might even catch yourself talking to the radio or TV, “Heck, I didn’t know I needed that.” Then again, you might find yourself switching to another station or channel, or just turning the darn thing (or person) off.

Return to the list of names that opened this article, particularly Napoleon Hill. He finished his research for Think and Grow Rich in 1927, then published the manuscript ten years later. He didn’t invent what he wrote about, he reported on it. As I recall, and I’m willing to be wrong, he promoted the idea of SERVICE, and that this (service) was the result of FINDING something that OTHERS (not self) TRULY NEED and then HONESTLY going about FILLING THAT NEED so that those OTHERS would and could BENEFIT. I don’t recall him writing that service resulted from creating or inventing an imagined need and then convincing others that the thing created was in fact something that had to be filled so that the person who imagined it could benefit. Again, I could be mistaken, so I’ll go back and take another look at the book. But, this I will say – it is disturbing just how many programs, products and so-called “services” exist today that say they are based on Hill’s work and yet they operate with darn near the sole intent of filling their own need. And here I’m including some that exist in my field of the human potential, leadership education and team effectiveness. Self-help spun in a different direction, i.e. which “self” are we talking about being helped?

Back to the above offered exercise. I don’t think anyone needs to do it. Consider it as simply what it is – an exercise. You’ll benefit, I’m confident, by touching on something important to you. I honestly believe it will be enlightening, ear and eye opening, especially if preconceptions and past certainties are set aside. From it you may find, over the next thirty days, possibilities forgotten or overlooked, accompanied by renewed strength to take action. Inspect, account and discern what is flowing into your consciousness that is being promoted by someone else’s self-serving motivation.

When I'm watchin' my TV

And a man comes on to tell me

How white my shirts can be

But he can't be a man 'cause he doesn't smoke

The same cigarettes as me

I can't get no, oh no no no

Hey hey hey, that's what I say

I can't get no satisfaction

- M Jagger / K Richards

Money on the Table

I received email last week encouraging me to enroll in a free on-line promising to train me to “never leave money on the table” when dealing with customers or clients. I was flabbergasted and saddened. Memories stirred of someone I once worked for. I recalled that someone one day walked into the back of a room full of 80 people we were about to serve, and not realizing I was standing off to the side, asked “Well, how much money do you think we can get out of these people this week?” I stepped out and looked straight at her and replied, “I think you’re asking the wrong person.” That stunned her. She could have inquired about who was attending our program, what were their backgrounds, what I knew of their desires and dreams, or what our plan was for serving them, i.e. what we could do for them. But that’s not what happened. That was sixteen years ago.

Between then and last week you and I witnessed blatant self-serving on grand scales: Enron, sub-prime loans out the ying-yang, a global economic crisis that pales everything in comparison ‘cept the Great Depression. Yet, with today’s news that the stock market has greatly recovered from 2008, our collective assumptions, mind sets and actions really haven’t changed that much!

The person who sent me the email is in the service industry, in fact - the seminar business, and has made a lot of money. He knows that clients and customers smile only short term for those who sell yet attempt to squeeze for every nickel and dime. But over time, those ostensibly served do not suffer slick fools. Their smiles and nods eventually walk away, as do their bodies and the bodies of those they would refer.

What’s the deal here? People aren’t stupid. Just as every husband or wife knows (on some level) when his or her mate is cheating on them, so people know (on some level) when someone else is slipping a hand into their pocket for more and more and more. “Islands are connected, and so we are connected,” goes the motivational story. “Above the water, what we see is an illusion. But when we drop deep below the surface we find that we are joined in oneness; we are in fact the same!” preaches the self-help guru. Yet many a self-help guru has set this concept, this ideal, aside when then the glitter of gold is sitting before them on the table. Yes, it’s important to make money. But, at what cost? What’s the deal?

I’m not against self-help, human potential organizations. Quite the contrary, I think they are a great idea. I personally engage in that work. But we have to return to and remember it as a work full of people, not an industry full of units.

Lawyers suffer the brunt of “ambulance chaser” jokes, and for some rightfully so. People not in the legal profession, yet who live by the credo of the never-leave-money-on-the-table syndrome, suffer a similar come-from, a sense of lack, akin to the illness that can drive a hustling get-whatever-you-can barrister into a shallow existence of full pockets and lots of beautiful people, but leaving a trail of burned-out former employees, and former clients who will out of loyalty agree that, “Yes, I gained a lot from him, and he effectively wiped out my competition (or X-wife/ husband/ etc.), but I wouldn’t recommend him to you as a friend or someone you would really want to know – or, for that matter, trust – because the bottom line for him is, well --- just a bottom line.”

When did it become a cosmic mistake for an organization or individual to leave money on the table during a negotiation or a sale? Is abundance in such short supply that we have to grab and hang on to every thing, every vote, every scrap, every dime and every human being that we touch, leaving bare the table? Talk about a zero-sum game!

People are savvy. Many will actually watch how others handle a negotiation or a sale just to see who is going to grab for the last buck. They do, don’t you know? I’ll buy once or twice from someone to test his or her understanding of service, and see if he or she is motivated by that kind of greed. But once I understand that the person I’m dealing with is more interested on how much she or he can get, i.e. scrape off the table, as opposed to how much she or he can serve -- well then, I take my needs somewhere else. What about you??

ON FAILURE.

I’m reading email today from a friend and colleague who has just had some big plans fall through that involved me. His words, “We learned a lot as you often do when you fail at something.” Then he writes an apology to wit: “Sorry I wasted a lot of your time and efforts.” My reply – “You didn’t waste my time and efforts!”

Thirty-five years ago on a Saturday afternoon I sat in a seminar that was to become a launching pad for the work I’m engaged in, and listened to someone read a list of statements about FAILURE. It went something like this:

• Failure is really our judgment of an experience.
• Just as every year has a summer and a winter so we are going to have the varied experiences of life, and some of these we will judge as failures.
• Failure says, “It’s too hard this way. There’s a better way. Look for it.”
• Often the very change we want comes through seeming failure.
• Many of life greatest successes and inventions have come through seeming failure
• It could be said that you are being nudged off a side road of life that leads to the main road called success.

When I hear of failure I’m reminded of the following:

At the Battle of Gettysburg, the decisive fight on the left side of the Union Army flank was at a place called Little Round Top. The fact that the Union won at that decisive point was a series of failures by … the Union troop located there. A sizable number of their troopers on that little piece of ground were deserters who had been talked back into the fray by Colonel Joshua Chamberlain. It could be said that some other officer had failed to lead them properly, and Chamberlain seized the moment in the face of defeat to win their trust and was able to have them with him. Additionally, Chamberlain gave obscure orders to one of his Company Commanders, a Captain Morrill, who didn’t ask for clarification. Chamberlain’s failure to communicate and Morrill’s failure to inquire were factors in Morrill’s being in the right place and at the right time when Chamberlain really needed him. Not to excuse either, but it is an interesting and factual perspective. Sometimes plans just don’t work out, and yet produce some surprising opportunities.

Thirteen years ago I failed to wear the correct clothes for a walk on a beach and ended up slipping off boulders and breaking my left him. That one failure cost me dearly. Some of which I’m still paying for. But had I not broken my hip I wouldn’t have done a number of things: (a) slowed down my life enough to reflect on where I was going; (b) asked for help – something I tend to avoid; (c) started an active drive to deliver the Samurai Game® which led to serving thousands of individuals and hundreds of organizations; (d) begun a practice in a powerful discipline – aikido; (e) rekindled a friendship with my long-ago roommate from college, John Gallagher.

All politics aside – had Al Gore won the presidency he probably wouldn’t have had the impact he has regarding world climate. Like Gore or not, he’s made a difference. More people are paying attention to what we’re all doing with our planet than they were back when he ran for the office … and that’s good.

In the latter years of the eighteenth century had William Wilberforce not failed again and again at getting his bill to abolish the slave trade before the English Parliament he never would have had the stamina to carry on for twenty-six years and make his dream a reality. (See Amazing Grace the movie).

Had Helen Keller not struggled to see, hear and speak the world would never have had the lessons that he life brought forth. In the end, she still couldn’t see – but she had vision; she still couldn’t talk – but she had a voice; she still couldn’t hear – but she listened. Her life gave others eyes, ears and mouths they otherwise would never have experienced.

A year and a half ago, I sat on a couch with my mentor, George Leonard. There he was, frail and aging. We both knew it. I asked him if he was still working on his last book. He looked me square in the eyes, thumped his chest with his right forefinger and said, “As long as there’s a spark of life in here I’ll be at it!”

We look today at the Winter Olympics Games going on in Vancouver, Canada. We see the youth of the world standing on podiums wearing bronze, silver and gold. Who we don’t see are those who slipped and fell and “failed”. Sure as I write these words, some of these people, these “failures”, will stand on podiums in their future, grasp their medals and raise their bouquets - OR they will inspire others to do so. Case in point – the skating coach from China at these Olympics: he was a miserable failure on the ice himself a few decades ago, laughed at and humiliated. Today, he’s a masterful example of a champion, coaching others to heights he could only imagine and setting a standard for his country and the rest of the world to take notice of.

So when it comes to failure – take another look. Then - get on with it.

PS – the Japanese word for CRISIS is KiKi and is composed of two kanji. One means danger or risk, the other means opportunity.

© Lance Giroux – Feb 2010

In Memory of George Leonard

February 1, 2010

I walk into Peet’s Coffee.
A young woman, Jamie, serves my usual: small decaf and zucchini bread.
The tattoo on her wrist reads: “To Heaven and Hell – Follow Your Heart”
A deep voice in my mind whispers, “Say Alert!”
It is the voice of George Leonard.

The Retrospect
Kahlil Gibran’s (1883-1931) The Prophet speaks to the philosophy of an imagined Almustafa. In magnificent prose it touches on timeless topics of significance and substance: giving and law, reason and passion, children and marriage, freedom and pain, self-knowledge and friendship, good and evil, and finally death. Then, it says farewell. The Prophet opens with Almustafa standing and overlooking Orphalese, his beloved city, contemplating his life, now nearing its end.

[H]e climbed the hill without the city walls and looked seaward; and he beheld his ship coming with the mist. Then the gates of his heart were flung open, and his joy flew far over the sea. And he closed his eyes and prayed in the silences of his soul. But as he descended the hill, a sadness came upon him, and he thought in his heart: How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city. -- -- The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I must embark.

Gibran, a Lebanese immigrant, published The Prophet in 1923, from Boston where he lived. It has been in print ever since. In August of that year, and a thousand to the south, the family line of Aaron Burr, an American politician and Revolutionary War patriot and third Vice President of the United States produced a new child. As with the words of Gibran and his Almustafa, the words and writings of this son-of-the-south would over a lifetime be recognized as wise, profound and significant. His actions would influence millions. His philosophy would touch the heart of the lowly, the average and the advanced. His name: George Burr Leonard. He passed away Tuesday, January 6, 2010, at his home in Mill Valley, California. He was 86.

The Man
George Leonard’s love for letters and music spanned a lifetime, as did his love for country, freedom and people. As a youth he had his own swing band. He served America in combat as an A-20 fighter-bomber pilot in WWII, and again during the Korean War, this time as an air intelligence officer. After the wars he advanced in one of his many passions, writing, and became an award-winning editor for Look Magazine. His articles covered the Civil Rights movement in the US before it was safe or popular to do so. He rubbed shoulders with Martin Luther King, Jr., and shared office space with Bobbie Kennedy. He chronicled the rise of the Iron Curtain (literally) in Eastern Europe – driving its length by car and probing its turf on foot. That he contributed extensively for Esquire would be an understatement. He remains that magazine’s most prolific writer. His twelve books included "Mastery", "The Ultimate Athlete", "The Silent Pulse", "Education and Ecstasy", "The Transformation", "The Way of Aikido", "Walking on the Edge of the World" and others. As with The Prophet, “Mastery” has never gone out of print; it is read today around the world and in easily found bookstores throughout the US.

He developed, practiced and taught a method of self-understanding and study, Leonard Energy Training. He presided over Esalen Institute’s board of directors www.esalen.org and co-founded ITP International www.itp-international.org with Esalen’s founder, Michael Murphy. At the time of his passing he was Esalen’s president emeritus. Recognized by Time magazine as the father of the human potential movement in the US, he in fact coined the phrase "the human potential movement."

At age 47, George Leonard began to study a Japanese martial art, Aikido. A few years later he co-founded the Aikido of Tamalpais dojo www.tam-aikido.org in Mill Valley, California, with two others who were on similar paths: Richard Strozzi-Heckler and Wendy Palmer – both now recognized globally for their work in realm of the human potential and as Aikido teachers (sensei). He advanced to the rank of fifth-degree blackbelt, and regularly trained and taught the art until well past his 80th year. He remains perhaps the most authored Aikido sensei in the world. Except for Kisshomaru Ueshiba, son of legendary Morihei Ueshiba O’Sensei who developed Aikido, it could be argued that George Leonard, more than any other human being, influenced more people in the world to take up, examine and practice this martial discipline. His purpose: self-awareness and peaceful resolution to conflict.

The Connection
The lens through which I knew and experienced George took root in 1990. I encountered a leadership and team effectiveness simulation he had created. He once explained, “I had been thinking of communicating the value of life’s vividness and this just kind of came to me on an afternoon walk from my home to the dojo. It was influenced by encounters I had had with old war buddies, my study of the Japanese culture, and of course, Aikido. I suspended the class I was going to teach and asked everyone if they wanted to play a game for a little while. They said OK. A week later they were emotionally still in it and I knew something special was going on here.” He would later copyright, name and trademark this as The Samurai Game® www.SamuraiGame.org.

Unlike any other effectiveness simulation then or now, the Samurai Game® sources its strength from participants; becoming a sort of human chess match wherein players are also the pieces bound by rules which, like haiku, constrain yet offer unlimited possibilities for expression. Within the game a lifetime can be experienced. With Aikido as its foundation, it begs individual understanding of integrity, respect, compassion and decisiveness; and it demands honorable interaction and blending with opponents without the certainty of a favorable outcome. For the sake of a singular purpose all are asked, as George would often say, to “engage wholeheartedly and generously” and win or lose (metaphorically live or die) - to honorably serve others, particularly the opponent.

In 1995, the connection took a large step. He agreed to become one of the founding Associates of Allied Ronin. I was (and am) humbled and will be forever grateful. Five years later, because of an important need he had been expressing, I began to directly serve him and his Trust for the purpose of strengthening the training and certification of those who would seek to facilitate this simulation. We led many Games together, most at his dojo in Mill Valley, preceded and followed by meetings, innumerable phone conversations and lots of fun and laughs. The standards for facilitator training and certification were enhanced and codified. With this he and his wife, Annie, became for my dreams – some personal, others professional – close allies and dear friends. George was always available to listen to the deeply personal, some happy, some agonizing. He was always willing to reveal himself as well. He understood that that which is personal is what lives are anchored to, resonate with and revolve around. Anchor, resonate and revolve: words not haphazardly chosen. He acted with a heart seeking to understand.

I once nervously suggested to him that the Samurai Game was his greatest creation, a rather bold statement, given his contributions as an author. I offered that it would be great it to take it around the world. His reply, “Why not?!” Looking back, it was he and the Game that began to take me around the world - to witness things and be with people that in my wildest dreams never thought possible.

The Impact
Today almost forty certified facilitators serve his traditions and requests through this simulation. These are sons and daughters of the world; citizens of Mexico and Poland, PR China and Taiwan, the UK and SE Asia, Australia and the United States. Some are well-seasoned group process facilitators. Some own their own training and consulting organizations. Some are college professors. Some are renowned authors. A lawyer and an engineer. Some work with youth-at-risk who walk the edge of life and death and are confined to institutions. Some are simple men and women, relatively unknown, who have no great following, yet possess the heart to serve and assist people. Today, others seek to join their ranks.

The Game, once only an afternoon thought, has been repeatedly delivered on every continent with the exception of Antarctica and South America. Its use and popularity are growing. With it George Leonard has touched through action the lives of hundreds of thousands of people around the world – including those at the United Nations Secretariat, AIESEC International and it 90 some country constituencies, AT&T, Societe Generale’ Corporate & Investment Banking, US Army Special Forces, Vantage Corporation in PR China, Nokia, Verizon Wireless, the Julia Morgan School for Girls, Brandeis-Hillel School, the Horizon Academy, Texas A&M University, University of Nevada, University of San Francisco, the Organizational Behavior Teacher Society – and hundreds of other organizations. Indirectly, millions of people have felt its impact. Enhanced are their individual and group awareness, and their connection with a strong internal ethical code. Far reaching when compared to the few hundred meters that distanced George’s Locust Street home from his dojo off East Blithedale Street in Mill Valley.

The Words
On October 6, 2006, a surprise email arrived from Steve Fujitani of Honolulu, who I hadn’t seen or heard from in nine years. It read:
"So, here I am, years after playing the Samurai Game and it starts to come back, all the wonderful truths and ah-hahs ... then I find something I wrote to my kids dated November 1997 when I played it with you. All the wisdom shared about leadership, fears, agendas and truths ... I look forward to continuing the journey, as I'm sure are many others who've truly experienced the Game.

Sometimes life's greatest ah-hah's take an eternity to make themselves apparent, but... hey, as long as we get past the outer layers, right? I played [it] in 1997, but I feel a though I just woke up - again. Sailing's always been my passion, but skippering my own boat out on the deep blue was a real fear, as was the restaurant (Souvaly Thai Cuisine) I'm now opening. In retrospect, I think the leadership training and the Samurai Game played a big part in overcoming the phobias we unnecessarily weave into things, preventing us from achievement we'd otherwise never know."

On February 1, 2010, a message arrived through Face Book from Marta Bruske, past president of AIESEC Poland. It read:
I was intending to get in touch with you so many times for last few years and somehow never managed. I feel really ashamed I waited with writing this email for so long :) There has been so many things that happened since we last met on the conference in Poland. I spend last years looking for the right place for me. I lived in Brussels and London for some time. Last year I came back to Warsaw and finally I got some time to join AIKIDO trainings.

I was thinking about it since ' samuray game' in Netherlands. I guess I just had to wait for the right moment to come. I am still a newee in this area. Practicing not even a year but enjoying the learning a lot :) I joined Aikido Kobayashi dojo.

How is samuray game evolving? I still live this experience (even though it has been so many years ago!) and I know that many people who played it feel the same. I owe you big THANK you for that! - Best Wishes! Marta

The Thought and Thanks
Today we live with technologies that advance in complexity and capacity each moment. Their speed and application increase exponentially. We no sooner purchase the newest gadget than we are encouraged to buy the next. Why? Because we are informed that we need to. What was the latest and greatest a moment ago is now passé. We are told (and subsequently we begin to think) these technologies can make life easier and better. In reality, our problems and potentials are not unlike those of Kahlil Gibran’s era. Resolving human conflict, living with dignity, being honesty, acting honorably, offering respect to others and especially to one’s contrary – these are not things purchased. These are the rhythms of the breath of life; rhythms that cannot be bought and sold; rhythms that must be felt and heard, spoken to, developed and practiced. They form the ongoing challenge and responsibility of individuals and communities who seek constructive approaches to life rather an addiction to acquisition.

Our world wants answers to issues not unlike those faced by the people who sought advice from Gibran’s ancient, mystical and imagined Almustafa, the Prophet. Now, as then, many desire to acknowledge only themselves as the source of their own success, boasting or seeking to be self-made. Unfortunately they confuse and blur the line between being independent and disconnected. We sadly tend to forget the impact that others before us have had when fortune knocks on our door; yet we do remember the impact of others when misfortune stands in its place. Yes, individually we must raise our own sails to catch the winds of grace that blow. But the winds of grace that touch our lives issue forth from the inspired breath of those whose feet have trod valleys and shorelines before us.

All human beings stand beneath the shadows and in the shade of others. Some of us resent and resist this. They see shadows and shade to be limiting. Shadows are produced by obstructions to light. Shade is cold. The worry of these unfortunates is that they might live an unseen life. I had the fortune to meet and walk with a man in his shadow; a shadow beneath which I and countless others found warmth; a shadow that, paradoxically, offered and continues to offer illumination.

George Leonard’s life (1923–2010) will be memorialized at a service on Sunday, February 28, 2010, at the Mill Valley Community Center, 180 Camino Alto, Mill Valley, California, from 3:00 pm until 6:00 pm. Tax deductible contributions may be made in his name at www.itp-international.org.

“What will count in the long run
is not just what we learn to do
but what we are willing to be.
The most promising adventure is worth joining
only if it contributes to the common good.”
-George Leonard (2006, The Silent Pulse, p.191)

George Leonard

The memorial service for George Leonard will be February 28, 2010, at the Mill Valley Community Center, 180 Camino Alto, Mill Valley, California, from 3:00 pm until 6:00 pm. George passed away Tuesday, January 6, at his home in Mill Valley, California. He was 86.

During his life Mr. Leonard served in the US Army Air Corps as a combat fighter-bomber pilot in WWII and during the Korean War as an air intelligence officer. He was an editor and wrote extensively for Look Magazine and won many awards there as he covered the Civil Rights movement in the US and the rise of the Iron Curtain in Eastern Europe. He remains the most prolific writer ever for Esquire Magazine. His twelve major books included "Mastery", "The Ultimate Athlete", "The Silent Pulse", "Education and Ecstasy", "The Transformation", "The Way of Aikido", "Walking on the Edge of the World" and others. "Mastery" written in 1991, has never gone out of print and has been continuously stocked in book store throughout the US since its publication.

With Michael Murphy he co-founded Esalen Institute, and at the time of his passing was Esalen's president emeritus. He also co-founded ITP International and Aikido of Tamalpais. Taking up aikido at age 47 he went on to attain the rank of 5th degree black belt. It would be safe to say he was the most authored aikido sensei in the world. Arguably, he was (and possibly remains) the most influential person in the spreading of aikido awareness in the USA. He was recognized by Time magazine as the father of the human potential movement in the US, and was the individual who coined the phrase "the human potential movement."

On an afternoon in 1977 as he walked from his home to his dojo, George created the Samurai Game®. Since then the Game was copyrighted, solely owned by him and his wife Annie, and the Leonard Trust. The simulation has directly affected the lives of hundreds of thousands around the world, and indirectly touched millions with lessons of effective leadership and team work - greatly strengthening one's awareness and connection to a strong ethical code. A cadre of over thirty certified facilitators now spreads across the globe: Mexico to Poland to PR China to Taiwan to the UK and across the USA.

I met George in 1990. He agreed to become an Associate of Allied Ronin in the late 1990's. In 2000, I began serving him as his sole training and certification representative for the Game. Together we led many Samurai Games, most of them at his dojo in Mill Valley. He became my closest ally and, along with his wife, a dear friend. The work we did in codifying the Game and it's standards and methods of facilitator training and certification will continue, as will my service to their Trust in this regard. I promised him in 1994 that I would take the Game around the world. The fact is, though, that he and the Game have taken me around the world. His work directly touched many millions of people on every continent of the globe. The planet Earth is a better place in 2010 than it was in 1923 in no small measure because of this one man and his vision, his wholeheartedness, his commitment and his generosity.

Tax deductible contributions may be made in George Leonard's name at www.itp-international.org