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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Some people cheer up a room by entering it, others by leaving it. What do you bring to your interactions with workmates, friends, and family? Is it encouragement, optimism, or kind words? Or is it pessimism, criticism, or cynicism?

People often forget what we say and usually what we do, but as Maya Angelou said, “They always remember how we made them feel.”

Here are some other wise words about kindness:

“Wise sayings often fall on barren ground, but a kind word is never thrown away.”
– Sir Arthur Helps

“You will regret many things in life, but you will never regret being too kind or too fair.”
– Brian Tracy

“Don’t wait for people to be kind. Show them how.”
– Anonymous

“The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention.”
– Oscar Wilde

“That best portion of a good man’s life: his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.”
– William Wordsworth

“Kindness is loving people more than they deserve.”
– Joseph Joubert

“We are made kind by being kind.”
– Eric Hoffer

“Remember not only to say the right thing in the right place, but far more difficult still, to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.”
– Benjamin Franklin

“You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Kindness is more important than wisdom, and the recognition of this is the beginning of wisdom.”
– Theodore Isaac Rubin, M.D.

“Today I bent the truth to be kind, and I have no regret, for I am far surer of what is kind than I am of what is true.”
– Robert Brault

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Henry James was more emphatic: “Three things in human life are important: The first is to be kind. The second is to be kind. And the third is to be kind.”

In 1994, Dr. Chuck Wall, a professor of human relations and management at Bakersfield College in California, came up with a concept that turned into an influential movement. Weary of hearing about “senseless acts of violence,” he began to teach and talk about “random and senseless acts of kindness.” The idea was simple: The best response to a world coarsened by selfishness and cruelty is individual acts of kindness. Now there’s a movement and website devoted to promoting random acts of kindness.

In 1999, Catherine Ryan Hyde wrote the novel Pay It Forward, which later became a movie, that built on Dr. Wall’s initial inspiration. It starts with a teacher’s assignment: “Think of an idea for world change, and put it into action.”

Trevor, the 12-year-old hero, comes up with an idea to do something “real good” for three people. All he asks for in return is that each recipient of kindness “pay it forward” by doing a good deed for three other people. If you do the math, it’s clear that such a plan could quickly change the world.

Whether acts of kindness are spontaneous as advocated by Dr. Wall or premeditated as proposed by Ms. Hyde, they’re certainly not senseless. On the contrary, they’re the best proof of good sense. Every person can send forth ripples of kindness and compassion simply by being nice.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

From the mail I get, I know I irritate and even infuriate some of you who think I’m too self-righteous, too idealistic, too liberal, too conservative, too religious, too secular, or just plain dumb. But it’s all worth it when I receive occasional notes telling me someone was inspired, encouraged, or comforted by something I said. A teacher can’t hope for more.

It’s a strange experience sitting alone in my home office (usually between midnight and 4 a.m.) composing little essays that will be heard or read by millions of people I’ve never met. Yet despite this isolated setting, I’ve shared so much of my life and deepest reflections that it feels more like writing personal letters to friends than sermonizing. Somehow, I feel a real and intimate bond with those of you who visit with me regularly.

I confess that on each anniversary I think of retiring from this especially taxing aspect of my work life. I’m nearly 67 and, to be honest, it gets harder to generate the energy after a full day of work to formulate thoughts worthy of your time.

It’s even harder in these difficult economic times for nonprofit organizations like Josephson Institute.

But whatever happens in the future, I couldn’t let this anniversary go by without thanking you for giving my life greater depth and meaning by letting me be part of yours.

To write me or receive my commentaries by e-mail at no charge, visit www.CharacterCounts.org.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

He’s living at home with his parents and things are getting tense, especially with his father, who says he’s lazy and afraid to enter the real world.

Chris thinks his dad is unreasonable. After all, you’re only young once and he needs some space. During a recent argument, Chris said, “I’m not you, Dad. I have my own way of doing things. I want a job I enjoy.”

His dad replied, “That’s a nice idea, but in the end they call it ‘work’ because it’s about making a productive living – not having fun.”

There are many youngsters like Chris who are having trouble getting started and becoming self-reliant. Some, like Peter Pan, just don’t want to grow up. Some are afraid of making a wrong decision or of being rejected. Others are victims of what psychologists call “magical thinking.” They believe when the time is right, everything will fall into place. So they wait for opportunity to come knocking or until they feel inspired or excited enough to take the next step.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work that way. What’s crucial is to begin. Things happen and opportunities appear most often when we’re moving, not standing still.

Momentum is vital. Basic physics stipulates that it’s easier to alter the course of a moving object than to start movement initially. In the end, it’s not really about finding yourself. It’s about making yourself.

The first steps are the hardest, but the key to success in anything is getting started.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Really? Insults, teasing, gossip, and verbal abuse can inflict deeper and more enduring pain than guns and knives.

Ask anyone who as a kid was fat, skinny, short, tall, flat-chested, big-busted, acne-faced, uncoordinated, slow-witted, or exceptionally smart. In schoolrooms and playgrounds across the country, weight, height, looks, and intelligence are the subject of more taunting and ridicule than race or religion.

And it doesn’t get better. Unkind words, tasteless jokes, criticism, and ridicule don’t lose their sting when we become adults.

There’s nothing new about this. But if we trivialize how damaging words can be, especially to youngsters, the ethical significance of verbal assaults can be lost. When we say words can’t hurt anyone, we negate the feelings of those who are genuinely hurt.

Instead of minimizing the importance of words, we should encourage parents and teachers to demand a higher level of respect and greater sensitivity precisely because words can be so powerful.

Yes, we should try to fortify our children’s sense of self-worth so they can bear insults and sarcasm better. And we should urge them not to take what others say too seriously. But it’s just as important to teach them that words have the power of grenades and must be used carefully.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

No experience or achievement I know rivals the turbulent blessings of fatherhood.

My grandparents frequently used two Yiddish phrases to describe the pleasure they had from their grandchildren. Naches (if you’ve never heard it, I don’t know how to tell you how to pronounce it since it doesn’t rhyme with any English word I know) means to experience joy. Kvell means to beam with pride and pleasure.

I get naches from good conversations, warm hugs, and hearing others say nice things about my kids. And that makes me kvell.

You’ve probably noticed how often I shamelessly talk about my children. And, before I forget, I must tell you that just yesterday, Mataya, my fifth-grader, made my buttons pop with pride when she delivered a commencement address that rivaled the one her eighth-grade sister gave two weeks earlier.

I have no illusions that I’m objective, but I don’t care to be when it comes to my children.

There are plenty of times when I express frustration, disappointment, and anger at certain things they say and do, but at the end of each day I feel grateful for the ample quantity of pride and joy that makes it all worthwhile. I just love being a dad.

If we take the time to notice and savor all the heart-grabbing moments our children give us, how can we not feel deeply thankful?

That’s why I think of Father’s Day as another Thanksgiving Day.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

I always loved him, but I didn’t always appreciate him. I was so aware of his imperfections (surely, no worse than my own) that I greatly undervalued his good qualities and all the things he did to make my childhood safe, comfortable, and fun.

It’s only when I met people who were neglected, ignored, or belittled by their fathers that I began to realize how lucky I was. I thought all dads were proud of, supported, and adored their children.

Until I became a father myself, I had no way of understanding the depth and intensity of his feelings and the emotional investment he had in my happiness.

I couldn’t imagine how much it must have upset him when I was cut from my baseball team or dumped by my first girlfriend or how pleased he’d be today seeing me become the kind of father he taught me to be.

I deeply regret I didn’t tell him often enough or enthusiastically enough that he was a great dad.

I can’t fix that now. But if your dad is still alive, you can.

Your father doesn’t need another Father’s Day tie, wallet, or sweater. If you want to give him a gift he will treasure forever, buy a nice picture frame. Put inside it a handwritten note telling him he did a good job with specific memories of how he’s enriched your life. Then tell him how much you love him.

I wish I’d done that for my dad.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Although I’m sure the leaders I work with care about ethics and virtue for their own sake, I know the driving force to seek outside assistance is self-interest. The risk of reputation-damaging and resource-draining charges resulting from improper conduct is so high that it’s a matter of prudence and responsible stewardship to stress ethical values and moral principles.

Yet changing or strengthening an organization’s culture is no simple task. We start with a questionnaire to identify vulnerabilities – attitudes and behaviors that could jeopardize the company.

The most common vulnerability we find is a management style that represses frank and open discussions about ethical concerns and discourages revelation of bad news.

Invariably, we discover that at least one in five employees admit they lied to their superior about something significant within the past year and at least one-third concealed or distorted negative information to avoid harmful career repercussions. Often, half or more employees say they remain silent rather than risk their boss’s anger, abuse, or disapproval. Thus, many questionable or improper actions go unreported and uncorrected – each one a scandal waiting to happen.

The antidote is explicit and credible corporate policies that promote accountability by making it clear that repressive management styles will not be tolerated and that every employee is encouraged and expected to muster the moral courage to report unwelcome facts and to voice dissenting opinions.

Meaningful improvement in business ethical culture requires persistent and pervasive efforts to create an environment that values and protects honesty, personal responsibility, and corporate integrity.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

In distinguishing right from wrong, absolutists don’t see much of a difference between mathematical calculation and moral reasoning. They’re extraordinarily confident about their ethical judgments, which can range from uncompromising commitment to truth, responsibility, and authority of law to ideas about religious beliefs, abortion, premarital sex, protecting whales, and even body piercing and breastfeeding. Although absolutism is often associated with conservatism, radical liberals can be just as rigid.

While absolutists are less likely to rationalize or fall into the traps of situational ethics, they can become disrespectfully intolerant of other perspectives. Although they can be highly honorable, a "no exceptions" approach to principles like truthfulness can lead to undesirable results. If one insists that all lying is wrong, there is no moral difference between lying to collect insurance and lying to a 3-year-old about the tooth fairy, falsely praising a gift, or going undercover to catch drug dealers.

While I share the absolutists’ disdain for those who constantly find excuses to lie, cheat, or break promises, I face too many situations in life where my deeply held convictions conflict. Sometimes telling the absolute truth is so unkind or disrespectful that it isn’t morally required.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.