Whistler, British Columbia, 11pm, September 29 2008

Last Tuesday was a very long, very bad day. I flew to Baltimore from Toronto to deliver two workshops – one for the YPO organisation and the other for the PCM Construction company. I left my house at 5.45am and returned at 9.45pm. Both sessions were fabulous. The people were open and responsive. The feedback was resoundingly positive. But the day ended badly.

It ended badly because I ended it badly. As I walked through my front door, the exhaustion hit me. I pecked my wife, Hilary,  half-heartedly on the cheek as she welcomed me home. I grunted something inaudible in response to her enquiry as to how my day went. I saw her stiffen as she turned away. That was bad, but it was about to get a lot worse.

As I warmed up some soup and scanned the newspapers, my sixteen year old daughter, Dani-Emma, came into the kitchen. She saw my fatigue and grouchiness and reached out to me in conversation around the issue of community service. She asked me my advice. I gave it to her. She didn’t like my response and got up to leave. Of course, I ordered her back. She refused. So I snapped. I yelled at her about the need for respect, courtesy, maturity, understanding and a whole lot more. The irony of the moment was completely lost on me.

Dani-Emma looked at me in stunned amazement. Then she started to cry. “You never shout at me, Daddy” she sobbed as she fled to her bedroom. That was bad, really bad. But it was about to get worse.

Hilary approached me and asked me what was wrong. “Nothing” I snapped. Then I told her to leave me alone. That was bad, really, really bad.

But it was about to get better. As I stared into the abyss of my minestrone, I realised my stupidity, hypocrisy and insensitivity. I ran upstairs to my daughter’s room, knocked on her door and entered. Although her eyes were still moist, she was already immersed in a conversation with multiple friends on her Apple Mac. She looked up in reprimand and disappointment: “You never shout at me” she repeated. I said the only two words I could say: I’m sorry. I walked towards her and opened my arms for a hug. Dani-Emma reluctantly submitted, head turned away. I wasn’t going to get off that easy.

Then I walked to my bedroom and repeated my apologies to my wife. I tried to hug her – same response. I wasn’t receiving any absolution that night.

But the next morning, it was all over. Dani-Emma looked at me with a knowing smile. “I hope you feel bad about your behaviour last night. It’s going to cost you.“ Hilary looked at me with the same smile and said the same words. I did feel bad. I still feel bad. And I know it’s going to cost me. I’m willing to pay.

Why do I share this message of domestic discord with you? Because I know you also have your Stupid Moments. I know you let the stress sometimes turn you into someone you loathe. It’s called being human. And Love means being forgiven when you’re being the worst part of being human. That’s what I needed last Tuesday. And that’s what I received the next morning. I’m forgiven but the act is not forgotten. I’m on probation with the two most important women in my life. And that’s a scary place to be. So I resolve to be aware of  my state. I resolve to master my emotions. I resolve to rise above my fatigue. I resolve to never vent my negativity on others. I resolve to walk my talk. Until the next time…

Toronto, 11.35pm, Sunday, September 22

A long time ago, I decided to place my trust and my money in Wall Street. I have invested hundreds of thousands of dollars in America’s most respected companies. Over the past week, like many others, my trust has been severely tested. By midweek, I was ready to yank out whatever money I had left. But I didn’t. By the end of the week, all the losses were made up and I was even ahead on the key financial stocks. I’m confident that this scenario  will be played out many times over the next few months.

From Wall Street to Main Street, this volatility is becoming the New Normal. A good friend of mine was appointed Chief Marketing Officer of a large manufacturing company on August 28 2008. On Friday morning he was advised the company had been sold to a larger concern and his position was being eliminated. He’s now looking for a job in a very tough market.

All the companies with whom I’m working are being struck with category 4 crises. Whatever change they’ve been through in the past is being dwarfed by what’s coming at them now. The storm is breaking and, unlike Gustav or Ike, it’s likely to stay with us for a long time – maybe forever. I’m not being melodramatic. I’m being coldly realistic. Get ready to swing wildly. Get ready to celebrate huge success and curse devastating failure hour by hour.

Equanimity means mental or emotional stability under tension or strain. It’s the new have-to-have trait. Unless you can tightrope your way through the intense ups and downs of the new landscape, you’re going to fall down, very far down. In fact, the quality of your future will be a direct function of your equanimity. So don’t become too euphoric about your wins. And don’t let your losses plange you into despair. They’re all temporary and they all link to each other. Success will make you fail and failure will help you succeed.

My message here is that we all need to expand our tolerance for unpredictability, instability and fickleness. At the same time, we need to practice humility. I mean literally. Practice humility every day. Be cognisant of your gifts. Be unfailingly appreciative to others. Be a student of everything. Have faith in yourself, but don’t place yourself on a pedestal. Do what you have to do, when you have to do it, with whom you have to do it. It is what it is. What was, was. You create your future by  how you do what you do now.

Oops, it’s already 12.15pm. It’s next week already. Lipkin’s Weather Channel predicts another wild and crazy week. Bring it on, Big Guy. I’m ready.