On the wall beside my desk sits a small bronze plaque. It was a gift, located in Italy, from one of my partners. On it are engraved just four words: I am still learning.
What’s unusual about that simple, seemingly mundane, statement is that is was spoken by the renowned Renaissance artist, Michelangelo – in his 87th year. (Technically, he said “ancoro imparo.”) Given the scope of his achievement in painting, sculpture, poetry and architecture, this humility is striking and strongly reminiscent of another quotation attributed to the Greek philosopher Socrates. He said, “The wise man knows that he knows nothing.”
Beside the Michelangelo quote is taped another gem, this one from the best-selling business book, Leading Quietly. It’s a three-word motto that I also try to keep top-of-mind. It reads, “Modesty. Restraint. Tenacity.” I don’t think Michelangelo would mind that the two sit side by side on the wall.
At one point in my career, I helped create and produce advertising for Major League Baseball. One spring it was my assignment to write and record a series of radio spots featuring Cal Ripken and his brother Billy, who happened to be his teammate on the Baltimore Orioles. For those not so passionate about baseball as I am, Cal Ripken, now retired, was a perennial All-Star infielder who broke Lou Gehrig’s record for consecutive games played in the Major Leagues. He’s hailed as the modern-day “Iron Horse” for that feat. He won batting titles. He won fielding titles. He was a team captain, an MVP, a hero. He had every reason to be proud, cocky and aloof.
His brother, on the other hand, was mediocre, as professional baseball players go. He never earned any of the accolades that his older brother had. Yet, during our recording session in an announcer’s booth high above the baseball field where their team was about to play a pre-season game, Billy was disruptive and foul-mouthed. He acted how I imagined a superstar like Cal was more likely to act. At one frustrating point, Cal, anxious to get back down on the field for more batting practice, looked Billy squarely in the eyes and firmly said, “Billy, it’s time to shut up.” The session went smoothly after that.
For the most part, all of the seasoned baseball stars with whom I worked over a several-year period were well-mannered, humble and earnest about improving their skills. They were, to use words from my wall quotations, tenacious about learning, and tempered with modesty.
How much time do you set aside for learning? How much money do you seat aside for the training and teaching of your employees? Since when did you know it all? Since when can you rest on your laurels? It’s a very competitive world, as you’ve no doubt discovered. Resting leads to losing.
Businesses can fail for any number of reasons, even if their products or services are unique and their leadership is charismatic. All you can rely on, when all is said and done, is your own set of skills. And skills at any level of the corporate hierarchy dull quickly without constant sharpening.
One of my neighbors is a successful, self-employed real estate salesman. He works primarily by himself. No one else is responsible to train him, teach him or motivate him. Recognizing that fact, he’s wise enough to take two, self-imposed “feed the fire” trips each year. He leaves home, kisses his family goodbye, and heads for a rented condo in Park City. He then focuses for several long days on learning how to improve his performance. Tapes, books, magazines, videos and fresh air are all part of his curriculum. He readily admits that those one-man, learning soirees contribute mightily to his annual success.
A well-respected leader by the name of Thomas S. Monson once said, “Can we not appreciate that our very business is life is not to get ahead of others, but to get ahead of ourselves? To break our own records, to outstrip our yesterdays by our todays, to give as we have never given, to do our work with more force and a finer finish than ever – this is the true idea: to get ahead of ourselves.”
And somewhere, Michelangelo is still studying sculpture.
