If only my boss would stop changing his mind at the last minute. If only my partner wouldn’t yell when frustrated. If only she were more organized, he more accurate, they more creative, more patient, more timely, etc. etc. etc.
If only.
If only everyone else would change.
Even though each complaint seems valid enough on its own, when listed together they give one pause. Can it really be that everyone else is holding me back, tripping me up, or getting in my way all of the time?
I call this syndrome the “If Only” approach to life. “If only people and circumstances were different, I would be able to accompish what I know I am capable of doing and become who I know I have the potential to become.”
The problem with the “If Only” approach to life is that it ignores the fact that I am the main player in my own life. To assume that I am not somehow a contributor to the challenges, complications, and/or set-backs in my own life is naive.
In fact, such turning a blind eye to my own involvement in my own life is both irresponsible and outright negligent.
Most importantly, though, this willful ignorance is foolhardy. It is foolhardy because our best opportunity for effecting change is in those matters over which we have some control. Like our own behavior. Our own attitude. Our own values, plans and choices.
Even in contending with all that is outside of our control, our best opportunity is to focus on our reactions and responses instead of wishing the others would somehow change.
It’s not that others’ foul choices should not be addressed or confronted. It’s that the passive hope that my life will get easier if and only when “they” somehow become different is as effective as hoping to win the lottery instead of saving a portion of every paycheck.
Hence the need to turn my attention to my own involvement in my life. My choices. My reactions. My fears. My next steps.
“In only they…” Scratch it from your vocabulary. Let’s all start using, “When I…”


“It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again, who knows the
great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows achievement and who at the worst if he fails at least fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”
It’s over. We’re done. No more.
As you know, one of my favorite questions for leaders is, “Does it matters who’s sitting in the chair?”
Does anyone really play their weaker players when serious about winning the game?