Moments later, when the child became more upset, the mother said calmly, “It’s okay, Lily. We’re almost done.”

When the child became hysterical in the checkout line, the mom took a deep breath and said, “Lily, just hold it together for a few more minutes.”

As she was leaving, the store manager stopped her. “I just wanted to compliment you on how remarkably calm and patient you were with little Lily.”

The mother laughed. “Well, thank you, but my baby’s name is Lisa. I’m Lily. I was just holding it together for myself.”

Self-control is a virtue that doesn’t come easily. This mother had to work on it, talking herself through each challenge. According to Dr. Daniel Goleman, controlling impulses like frustration and anger is a crucial aspect of character that he calls “emotional intelligence.” In fact, he says, “Those who are at the mercy of impulse – who lack self-control – suffer a moral deficiency.”

The good news is, this deficiency in self-control can be cured by continuous efforts to identify and overcome negative emotions with rational thought. Although most of us experience negative emotions, inducing us to express anger, give in to frustration, or surrender to temptation, self-control is well within our power. We may not be able to suppress all our emotions and reactions, but we can dictate what we say and do. And whether we’ll allow negative feelings to dominate us.

It’s hard work to harness powerful impulses and redirect our thoughts toward positive attitudes, but those who do live happier lives in a happier world.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Finally, Sandy calls. She’s all right. She just lost track of time. Greg’s fear disappears, but his anger grows.

The love that motivated his worry is overwhelmed by a growing sense of outrage. He begins to rehearse what he’ll say and what punishment he’ll inflict. Unless he intercepts his anger, it can easily turn to rage, an emotion likely to produce foolishly impulsive conduct that’s likely to alienate Sandy and widen the rift between them.

Here’s the character challenge: Can Greg stop his runaway train of anger long enough to think about his objectives? His immediate goals are to vent his fury and frustration and teach Sandy a lesson. His long-term goals are to strengthen – not weaken – his relationship with his daughter and help her become more responsible and respectful.

If Greg stops and thinks about his broader goals, he’ll want to turn this event into a positive teaching moment. To do that, he’ll have to choose his words and tone carefully.

Good managers don’t yell at or demean employees because it would be ineffective and unethical. Parents have no less of a duty to be tactful and respectful when dealing with their children.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Claiming “the unexamined life is not worth living,” he roamed the public places of Athens asking relentless questions that challenged assumptions and beliefs and demanded that people think about social justice and personal worthiness.

“My friend,” he would ask, “are you not embarrassed by caring so much for money, fame, and reputation, and not thinking of wisdom and truth and how to make your character as good as possible?” Socrates wasn’t trying to make people feel bad; he was encouraging them to be better.

In the end, he was sentenced to death for his subversive ideas. He refused an opportunity to escape since it would violate his principles.

Socrates was an optimist about human nature. He believed wickedness is the result of ignorance and those with true knowledge will act rightly. Socrates’s question about priorities is relevant today, yet it takes courage and integrity to examine our motivations and goals and to measure our attitudes and conduct in relation to our principles.

Are you trying to make your character as good as possible?
Are you as honest as you should be?
Do you treat everyone with respect, even those you don’t like?
Are you accepting responsibility for your choices?
Are you fair?
Are you doing what you can charitably?
Are you doing your share as good citizens?

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

I was embarrassed as I listened to him tell me he had met me after a speech I had given at his law school. He said he had been discouraged and disheartened about ever becoming a lawyer and that he was ready to quit. But I had counseled him and he had decided to stick it out.

He said he had been looking for me so he could tell me personally that not only had he graduated but had just become the nation’s first Mexican-American law school dean.

His decision to seek me out to share the story was a generous and much-appreciated gift I’ll never forget. But his description did not ignite my memory, and I felt shallow and ashamed.

Here this fellow was expressing deep gratitude for something I could not recall. I only began to forgive myself when I realized I didn’t remember the incident because I engaged in this sort of discussion with students often, and this conversation was not extraordinary for me. That’s what teachers are supposed to do: share their knowledge, provide alternative perspectives, and offer encouragement and inspiration.

Teachable moments often arise unannounced and unnoticed. Teachers and parents never know what will be remembered and what will be forgotten. But if we want to have an occasional lasting impact, we have to have faith that at least some of the things we say will really matter. And since we can’t always know what those things are, we have to presume that everything we say will matter.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

The rabbi deftly related this story to the central theme of the High Holy Days: a lifelong commitment to reflection and the pursuit of perfection of our character. Once we learn that we have a moral duty to choose right from wrong, it’s like saying, “Now I have to be good for the rest of my life!”

What a bummer! It’s like accepting the need to follow a no-exceptions healthy diet forever. Well, maybe it’s not quite that bad.

Most theologians agree that God doesn’t expect us to be perfect, and we should not expect that of ourselves.

There’s room for moments of self-indulgence and occasional lapses in judgment or will. That’s why forgiveness is so important in all major religions. Christians, Jews, and Muslims share a common belief that all humans are works-in-progress and that self-reflection, repentance, and resolve are critical to personal reform.

We should, however, strive toward perfection and exercise our free will in the direction of goodness.

The challenge for those who want to be better is to find a happy medium between being too hard on ourselves and being too easy. At one extreme are self-hate, self-contempt, and a sense of hopelessness; at the other are self-satisfaction, self-righteousness, and complacency.

The key is to do our best, to care about and devote conscious energy to continuous self-improvement.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Rosh Hashanah is not simply about making New Year’s resolutions. Jews are expected to pause from their daily lives, sit in objective judgment of their conduct during the past year, and examine the state of their souls so they can hold themselves accountable for any gaps between their conscience and their conduct, between the standards they profess and the actions they perform.

As Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan put it, the goal is “to seek reconstruction of one’s personality in accordance with the highest ethical possibilities of human nature.”

The profound insight underlying this quest for self-improvement is that every human being is endowed with the ability to understand good and evil and the free will to choose good.

Self-reflection, then, is just the prelude to a fresh commitment to be a better person.

When we examine our conduct and character, hold ourselves accountable for any gaps between the standards we profess and the actions we perform, acknowledge our faults, and seek to improve and make amends, we are engaged in a spiritual quest for worthiness that enriches our lives and our society beyond measure.

Although the process is clothed in religious ritual, one can come to similar insights about the nature and desirability of being a good person from a purely secular perspective. So whether we call it morality or ethics, or think in terms of our souls or our character, it’s good to be good,

Choosing to live a life of virtue lights and sustains a flame within us that can’t be extinguished. So to all of you, Happy New Year.

L’shana tova.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

But in life he was so much better than that.

Other common descriptors included director, race-car driver, entrepreneur, activist, philanthropist, humanitarian, practical joker, father of five, and a happily married man for 50 years. That’s quite a legacy, especially in Hollywood.

I saw him interviewed many times and was always struck by how fundamentally down to earth and sensible he seemed. He was a man who knew how to capitalize on his fame and enjoy his wealth without pretention or vanity. He was proud to have been in the top 20 of Richard Nixon’s Enemies List, and he loved and took quite seriously driving race cars on the professional circuit.

Yet the most exceptional thing about Paul Newman was his philanthropy. He created Newman’s Own, a natural food company with his picture on every label and the slogan “Shameless exploitation in pursuit of the common good.”

Although he was shocked that the brand became hugely successful (he once remarked that it was a joke that got out of control), he never wavered from his commitment to donate every cent of profit to charity – about $250 million so far.

His Hole in the Wall Gang camps have become the world’s largest family of camps serving children with serious illnesses.

It was reported that a week before he died he sat with his daughter in the arbor of his garden and said, “It’s been a privilege to be here.”

It was our privilege as well.

I once wrote that what will matter in the end is how long you will be remembered, by whom, and for what. Paul Newman will long be remembered by millions of beneficiaries of his talent and generosity as a man who made the world better.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Whether she will choose to engage in this scheme and order Bob to participate, and whether Bob will do so, is not only a matter of personal character but of corporate culture.

Decisions of employees like Amy and Bob are strongly influenced by their perceptions of the company’s character and operational values. In most organizations, you get what you reward and encourage what you allow.

Amy is more likely to avoid deceptive conduct if she believes integrity and honesty are ground rules rather than rhetorical ornaments and if she’ll be more severely sanctioned for deceptive conduct than missing her numbers. Similarly, Bob is likely to say no to his boss if he’s convinced the company wants him to and will support him if he does.

In today’s precarious environment, leaders have a duty to assess their organization’s culture and do whatever is needed to strengthen or create a sustainable ethical environment that generates trust and promotes honesty, fairness, and unflinching accountability as well as legal compliance.

This can’t be accomplished by lofty rhetoric or even strict ethics codes. Words and rules must be translated into expectations and made believable by the modeling of senior executives and by adopting performance-review criteria, compensation systems, and promotion decisions that reward ethical judgments and punish ethical shortcuts.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Taylor was not only physically powerful and uncommonly quick but was a master at verbal intimidation. Looking young Tim in the eye, he said, “Sonny, get ready. I’m going to the left and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Wrightman coolly responded, “Sir, is that your left or mine?” The question froze Taylor long enough to allow Wrightman to throw a perfect block.

It’s amazing what we can accomplish if we refuse to be afraid. Fear – whether it’s of pain, failure, or rejection – is a toxic emotion that creates monsters in our mind that can consume self-confidence and intimidate us from doing our best or even trying at all.

For example, as a law professor, I saw scores of capable students fail the bar exam, not because they didn’t know enough but because their anxiety hindered their ability to remember or coherently express what they did know.

For most law graduates, passing the bar exam should be no more difficult than walking across a board twenty feet long and two feet wide. The trouble is, they don’t walk normally because they’re intimidated by the illusion that the board is suspended 100 feet in the air and that getting across it is a life-or-death matter. What’s the worst that can happen? Embarrassment, inconvenience, and expense – but none of these is fatal.

Perspective is an antidote to fear. Remember, most things you fear will never happen, and even if they do, you can handle it.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Through a content-rich website Griefhaven.org, the foundation provides resources to guide parents recently maimed by the death of a child out of the black swamp of despair. Many at the dinner had lost a child, and regardless of the age or cause of death, these bereft parents all shared a common sentence – to live the rest of their lives with a hole in their heart.

One of the speakers, Dolly Saget, mother of comedian Bob, had lost four children. No one could blame them if they had retreated to a dark dungeon of despondency, but the remarkable people in that room refused to surrender to grief. Through hope, courage, and strength, they made a painful peace with their reality so they could move on, so they could laugh, so they could enjoy the company of others and savor good memories without being consumed by regret.

Their strategy is not to bury their pain so deep that they forget their loss. They want to remember. They want to celebrate and honor their children – not by weeping, but by easing the pain of others.

People like the Whitmores confirm that pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. They also teach us that deeply wounded hearts can be healed through life-affirming energy provided by a community of caring friends linked through common experiences and that a rewarding and meaningful life can be made from the rubble of personal calamity.

The evening ended with an inspired and inspiring performance by singer Davis Gaines. With his music still in my head, I left the dinner profoundly grateful for my life.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

When we hear this, someone is usually telling us, “Get off my back” or “Accept me as I am.” Often it’s a response to criticism. It could be about chronic lateness, thoughtlessness, broken promises, physical or verbal abuse, or infidelity. Whatever it is, we’re asked to let it go.

In the end, this is a ploy to get us to lower our expectations based on the dubious idea that certain bad habits are an intrinsic part of character and therefore beyond our control. We’re expected to believe it’s foolish and futile to expect a person to change.

There are, of course, lots of things that are beyond our control: short stature, big bones, receding hairline. Fortunately, character is different. That’s completely within our control. The poor and the rich, the slow and the smart, the plain and the pretty all have an equal opportunity to become people of character.

Sure, character can be influenced by heredity and environment, but it’s determined by choice. No disposition, circumstance, or experience is so powerful that it forever fixes our character. That is never finished. It’s constantly shaped and sculpted by the choices we make to nurture or ignore our more noble instincts and to surrender to or overcome negative impulses and corrupting temptations.

When it comes to what we demand of ourselves or others, we should never lower our standards. Character is a function of choice. Weaknesses and bad habits are not excuses not to get better.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

I suggested that it was a form of bribery to buy the trucks just to please the politician.

The general barked, “It’s not bribery. It’s extortion!”

“Don’t sound so powerless,” I replied. “You’re a general.”

Without skipping a beat, he answered, “Yeah, but I’m only a one-star.”

I hear this abdication of moral responsibility a lot – from business executives who surrender to pressures to engage in dubious business practices, from journalists who see their great calling being overcome by a growing profit obsession, and from others who feel they just can’t buck the system.

I understand it’s easier and often seems smarter to go along to get along. But when systems become corrupt, irrational, or wasteful, it’s our duty to try to make things better.

As Edward Everett Hale said, “It’s true I am only one, but I am one. And the fact that I can’t do everything will not prevent me from doing what I can do.”

When there’s a gap between reality and ethical ideals, people of character don’t surrender their ideals. They fight for them. They work to change the way things are to the way they ought to be.

And much more often than we realize, defective systems collapse at the first sight of principled resistance.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Loss.
Great, sudden, inexplicable, unfair loss.
It's everywhere and unavoidable.
Caused by hurricanes and earthquakes, fires and floods, train and plane crashes, war and terrorism, criminal violence, disease, betrayal, even the thunderous crash of monumental financial institutions, thousands of people's lives are maimed and mutilated, forever diminished by loss.
Homes, prized possessions, pensions, jobs, and health and are damaged or destroyed.
And so much worse, loved ones -- sons, daughters, moms, dads, friends, and family -- are yanked away without ceremony or a chance to say good-bye.
Victims of loss weep, "Why me?"
Survivors silently rejoice and then feel guilty for thinking, "Thank God it wasn't me."
And the great mass of casual onlookers feel both compassion and fear knowing, "Next time that could be me."
What's left after loss?
Choice.
One choice: dwell in loss, close the curtains, confine oneself to the small dark room of inconsolable despondency.
Another is to grieve and move on.
One choice is easier; the other is better.
How long does loss last?
It's up to you.

I was inspired to write this poem not only by the almost daily stories of natural and human-caused calamities but by a remarkable woman named Susan Whitmore. Struck down by the death of her daughter Erika, Susan chose to escape the dark dungeon of despair by creating the Erika Whitmore Godwin Foundation and a website www.griefhaven.org to console and counsel other parents who lost a child.

As the father of five kids I love so much it almost hurts, I can't cope with even the thought of losing any one of them. So I marvel at Susan and other moms and dads who found the strength and courage to choose to live good and decent lives despite the holes in their hearts.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Here’s a useful piece of advice: When you’re in a hole, stop digging. Whether our problems are of our own making or not, whether we know how to resolve them or not, the first step is to stop making things worse. Stop making excuses. Stop blaming others. Stop ignoring our strong and persistent feelings. And stop dismissing and discounting what others tell us about their needs and feelings.

Once we stop digging, we can work on getting out of the hole. It may take self-reflection, self-restraint, or willpower. Perhaps we have to adjust our schedules or simply be more attentive and considerate. Sometimes the best thing to do is ask for help so someone will throw us a rope.

Like so many aspects of character, this is often easier said than done. But when we manage our lives thoughtfully and with integrity, things do get better.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

The boy knew Shaya and reasoned that the game was almost over. His team was six runs behind, so he said, “He can play the outfield, and we’ll try to put him up to bat in the last inning.”

Unexpectedly, his team rallied. When Shaya came to bat, there were two outs, the bases were loaded, and the game was on the line. The boys kept their word and let him come to the plate.

After a clumsy swing, a teammate went up and held the bat with him. The pitcher moved closer to lob the ball in softly. With his teammate’s help, Shaya hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher. He could have easily thrown him out and ended the game, but he deliberately threw it over the first baseman’s head. Everyone started yelling, “Shaya, run to first. Run to first!”

Wide-eyed with excitement, he ran. The right fielder saw his joy and intentionally made another bad throw. Players on both teams shouted for him to keep running. The shortstop helped him run in the right direction.

To the cheers of “Run home, Shaya!” he got a hero’s welcome at home plate as all 18 boys from both teams cheered him for his game-winning, grand-slam home run.

Shaya was deliriously happy, and his father wept knowing he’d just experienced a perfect moment in a perfect game.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

* This commentary was adapted from one that has circulated widely on the Internet under the title “Run, Shaya, Run.” The original version was published by Krohn as “Perfection at the Plate” in his 1999 book. He attests that the story is true, which he claims he heard from Shaya’s father, a friend of his. The full story and an interesting critique (which finds fault with the message because, in the writer’s view, treating such children in a patronizing manner is disrespectful and unhelpful in the long term) can be found at http://www.snopes.com/glurge/chush.asp.