As you celebrate the Fourth of July, please take some time to discuss with your family the historical and spiritual significance of the Declaration of Independence and the 56 men who risked their lives issuing one of the great documents in human history.

At the core of the Declaration is the profound assertion that each of us is endowed with certain unalienable rights to “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Unfortunately, too many Americans believe they’re entitled not simply to pursue happiness but to be happy. This breeds an “I deserve it” mentality and “whatever it takes” strategies to help them get or keep the things they think will make them happy.

But alongside our unalienable rights to pursue happiness are unalienable responsibilities to be good and decent people. There’s nothing wrong with wanting and going after money, possessions, power, or status provided we do so honorably. The deeper question is whether the pursuit of happiness is an adequate life goal.

Helen Keller said, “True happiness is not attained through self-gratification but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.”

The men who signed the Declaration of Independence weren’t simply pursuing happiness. Instead, they pledged their “lives, fortunes, and sacred honor” to establish a government based on moral principles. This took character. And character is what life is really about.

According to philosopher George Santayana, “Character is the basis of happiness, and happiness is the reward of character.”

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end.
There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours, or days.
All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else.
Your wealth, fame, and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.

It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed.
Your grudges, resentments, frustrations, and jealousies will finally disappear.
So too, your hopes, ambitions, plans, and to-do lists will expire.
The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.

It won’t matter where you came from or what side of the tracks you lived on at the end.
It won’t matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.
Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.
So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured?

What will matter is not what you bought but what you built; not what you got but what you gave.
What will matter is not your success but your significance.
What will matter is not what you learned but what you taught.
What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage, or sacrifice that enriched, empowered, or encouraged others to emulate your example.

What will matter is not your competence but your character.
What will matter is not how many people you knew but how many will feel a lasting loss when you’re gone.
What will matter are not your memories but the memories that live in those who loved you.
What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom, and for what.

Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident.
It’s not a matter of circumstance but of choice.
Choose to live a life that matters.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Five birds are sitting on a telephone wire. Two decide to fly south. How many are left? Most people would say three. Actually, all five are left. You see, deciding to fly isn’t the same as doing it.

If a bird really wants to go somewhere, it’s got to point itself in the right direction, jump off the wire, flap its wings, and keep flapping until it gets there.

So it is with most things. Good intentions aren't enough. It’s not what we want, say, or think that makes things happen; it’s what we do.

I frequently think of writing thank-you, birthday, and congratulatory notes. Unfortunately, only a sad few of these good sentiments ever make it to paper. Still, if I don’t look too closely, I can delude myself into thinking that based on my good thoughts I’m a gracious and grateful person. A truer and less admirable picture of my character is drawn by my actions.

In the end, we either do or don’t do. We either make the time to do the things we want to and should do or we make excuses. As Alfred Adler said, “Life happens at the level of events, not of words. Trust movement.”

What do you want to do? Do you want to take a course, change your job, lose weight, make new friends, or spend more time with and appreciate more the ones you have?

What’s stopping you from jumping off the wire and flapping your wings?

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

The students at Sandy’s high school were badly shaken by the news that a classmate had killed himself. The suicide note said, “It’s hard to live when nobody cares if you die.”

Glen, a teacher, realized this was a teachable moment about the importance of making people feel valued. He asked his class to imagine they were about to die and to write a note “telling someone how and why you appreciate him or her.”

Sandy, who had a rocky relationship with her mother, decided to write her mom. Her letter read: “We’ve had some rough times and I haven’t always been a very good daughter, but I know I’m lucky to have you in my life. You’re the best person I’ve ever known. And even when I disagree with you, I never doubt you love me and want what’s best for me. Thanks for not giving up on me.”

When her mom read the note, she cried and hugged Sandy tightly but said little.

The next morning, Sandy found a note on her mirror. “Dearest Sandy, I want you to know being your mother is, by far, the most important thing in my life. Until I got your note, I thought I had lost your love and respect. I felt like such a failure. I intended to end it all last night. Your note saved my life.”

Be careful not to underestimate the power of expressed appreciation. It won’t always save a life, but it will always make someone’s life better.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

No matter how much we fear it, try to escape it, or ignore it, death comes to everyone. Wealth, fame, even wisdom and virtue provide no sanctuary.

It comes at its own time and place without regard for our readiness or its impact on survivors.

This week brought news of three deaths, each momentous in its own way as each life had its own unique path forged by circumstances and choices.

Ed McMahon, announcer, pitchman, and sidekick of Johnny Carson, died at 86. A former Marine Corps fighter pilot, his jovial nature attracted a large posse of friends and admirers and helped him achieve a hugely successful career and millions in earnings. None of these things, however, guaranteed happiness or security as his last years were spent in debt, ill health, and contentious litigation.

Farrah Fawcett, an iconic beauty known for her glamorous pin-up pictures and for being one of Charlie’s Angels, died at 62 after a hard, long public battle with cancer. She died with her companion for 27 years, actor Ryan O’Neal, at her side, struggling with all her might to enjoy her relationships a little longer.

These obituaries were eclipsed by the sudden death of 50-year-old “King of Pop” Michael Jackson. The one-gloved, red-jacketed, surgically altered, moon-walking singer/dancer was, for more than a decade, the brightest star in celebrity heaven. Once able to buy anything he wanted including a private zoo and the bones of The Elephant Man, Jackson also died in debt and in emotional prison – never able to overcome a host of personal demons.

Gilda Radner, another celebrity who died early, said: “I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing…taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity.”

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.