The road ahead of us bends to the left and intersects with our small cul-de-sac which climbs off to the right. With our ‘L‘ plates front and back, and me in the passenger seat, I clearly instruct the first time driver “don’t cut the corner”. It is after all a perfect corner for cutting. My words echo around the car as she whips right, cuts the corner and heads towards home.
“What part of ‘don’t cut the corner’ did you not understand?” I banter.
“You do it all the time” my daughter factually quips.
Instantly I realised that’s what I do. I cut that corner. Almost every time.
A few years ago a friend of ours was in a recovery programme. As a part of the programme they would often go for long walks around urban streets. As you know, footpaths generally curve around the intersection and then cross a few metres into the next street, so that its safer.
They had to ALWAYS cross where the footpath crosses the road.
They weren’t allowed to cut corners.
Ever.
Even if the roads were empty they still go the long way, because they wanted to reinforce that there was no cutting corners when it came to their recovery.
I cut those corners too.
Often.
Without even thinking about it.
We cut corners in life repeatedly. Usually because its quicker or easier or the least expensive way. What we often don’t see when we cut corners, is the message that sends to those around us. To our children, students, work-mates or even people we lead.
When you cut corners often enough, people will follow your example.
∴
Realising that I cut corners more often than I thought, has made me resolve some areas I never want to cut corners.
Honesty.
Safety.
Finances.
Caring for people.
Relationships.
Because cutting those corners will leave me a lesser person.
Recently I was having coffee with a guy who had taken some advice I have given him and was raving about it. The funny thing is that he confessed to me that one of his team had given him the same advice a few months earlier and he had largely ignored it.
In my final years of high school I was labelled. I was average (to below average). I lacked discipline. I needed to work harder. It would have been easy for me to accept that story and have it define my life.
Last week I was out running with Jay tagging along on his bike. As I ran, a seagull became increasingly disturbed with my presence and finally started dive bombing me. We sought shelter under some trees and, once the bird was over it, we carried on.
‘Kinstugi’ is the Japanese word that describes the art of repairing broken ceramics with gold.
Resolution comes from Resolve.
“Yes I’ve put that in my ‘stuff up’ folder” was the reply as we discussed a small error that one of my team had just made. Now the error the person had made was on a task they had never done before, (ever!) and hadn’t been trained for, but they labelled it a stuff up.
For those who know me, you will know one of my favourite (and at times most frustrating) questions is “How do you mean?”