But as I was in a media training last week and busted out a memory of Dad and one of the lessons he taught me. Or at least a funny memory that I've used to illustrate a point.
When I was first learning how to play the outfield in softball, I had developed a nasty habit. Whenever the ball was hit to me, my first step was towards home plate. Normally that wouldn't have been bad, but I'm not the fastest person in the world. So if I took my first step in and then missed the ball over my head by a step, it pretty much infuriated everyone on the team, including my coach and myself. Dad decided after a game that he was going to break me out of the habit.
When everyone was gone, he grabbed a bat and some softballs and told me to stay in the outfield. He hit some pop flies to me, but gave me consequences: if I took my first step in, then I had to run a lap around the field--my least favorite activity at the time. If I didn't take my first step in, he would run the lap.
It took me about ten laps of pure exhaustion to get the point. It took dad two laps to realize the lesson was learned.
The time it takes to stop and think about what you're doing is less than the time it takes to reflexively do the wrong thing. And you often don't end up trying to catch up.
Happy early Father's Day everyone!