Your 168. Harry M. Kraemer, Jr.

find this extremely helpful, because writing down my self-reflection not only increases my self-awareness but also provides a structure that keeps me from slipping into daydreaming. Day after day, my self-reflection journals provide a record of where I am and what I'm thinking at any given time.

      The more frequently you self-reflect, the more you'll already know your values, your purpose, and what really matters. This will enable you to spend more time on the questions that keep you accountable to yourself for how you're living your life. But that won't happen if you're trying to do ten things at once. Take some time to think about these questions to put your life into perspective. As you prioritize, you'll separate activity and productivity. What seems infinitely complicated can be broken down into discernable parts to be addressed and dealt with in a reasonable way. Or, as I like to say, I can get from the roots to the trees to the forest!

MY SELF-REFLECTION JOURNEY

      Although self-reflection is a major part of my life, it was something I had to learn. I am very fortunate that I had experiences when I was young that introduced me to the kind of thinking about myself and the world that I practice today as self-reflection. I can remember being seven years old and walking around Central Park in New York City with my maternal grandfather, Farrell Grehan. He was a history teacher and would discuss historical figures and important events, all the way back to the times of the ancient Greeks and the Roman Empire.

      One day I asked, “Grandpa, why are there always wars?”

He replied, “Harry, since the dawn of humankind, people have killed each other. Part of it is that people don't take the time to listen to one another and don't reflect on how short of a time they're on this earth. Therefore, they're only after power and wealth, things that are very temporary.”

      My grandfather would look down at me and say, “It was only a blink of an eye ago that I was a child like you.” That always seemed incredible to me. I began to grasp what he meant when he said, “We're here for a very short time.”

      As I got older, I began to think more about the shortness of life and what I could do while I'm here. My father had a great line—he may have even stolen it, but he sure could deliver it: “Have you ever seen a hearse going to a cemetery with a U-Haul attached to it?” He always got a good laugh from that one, but beyond the punchline there was a serious message. Dad would say, “Most people must think they're either going to live forever or they're going to take all of this material stuff with them.”

      I can remember when I was 13 years old and we were living in northeastern Pennsylvania. I was really into cars and liked to look at the front grilles and figure out their make and model. I'd see a particular grille and know the car was a Ford or an Oldsmobile.

      Back in those days, there were big fields filled with junk cars that were sold for parts or scrap metal. One day, Dad and I were driving past a big flatbed truck carrying a huge stack of flattened cars. Dad looked out the window and asked me, “What's the grille on the third one from the bottom?”

      “That's a Mercedes,” I replied.

      Dad shook his head. “You know, about ten years ago, some guy bought that car and was so proud of it. He'd always park it at the very end of the parking lot so no one would put a ding in the door. Didn't matter if it was raining, he'd be the farthest from the door so nothing would happen to his car. And now look, that same car is flat as a pancake on the back of a flatbed truck.”

That made quite an impression on me. Dad wasn't against material possessions and neither am I. You work hard, you do well, so you want to have a nice house and car. It's okay to treat yourself. But don't be possessed by your possessions. Self-awareness can help you discern what you need and why you need it—and, of course, what you don't need at all.

      Another pivotal moment in my development as a self-reflective person was a conversation I had with my uncle, my dad's brother, who was a priest in northeastern Pennsylvania. Father Francis would come over to the house on Friday evenings (for a fish dinner, naturally), and afterward he would play pinochle with my parents. One night, when I was about 14 or so, I asked to speak with my uncle after dinner.

      “There's something I want to tell you—I've been thinking about this a lot.” I took a deep breath. “I think I want to become a priest.”

      My uncle was ecstatic. “Oh, this is great. You have a calling!”

      I wasn't nearly as excited as my uncle. “You see, this is where I'm confused: I don't think I really have a calling. But every Sunday we hear that there is a serious need for more priests, and we pray for more people to join the religious orders. The fact is, we need more priests. And knowing my friends, trust me, we'd be in big trouble if one of them becomes a priest. If someone is going to pull the short straw here, it might as well be me.”

      If my uncle felt disappointed, he didn't show it. Instead, he said to me, “First of all, it's pretty clear to me you don't have a calling. But if you live your life the right way, you can have an enormous impact on others.”

      My uncle explained that, as a priest, he could affect only those who came to church, and as important as his parish was to him, it was a pretty small group. “But, Harry, if you end up going into business or teaching, you could influence so many more people. Through your example and behavior, you could make a positive impact on more people than you can imagine.”

I breathed a huge sigh of relief: “This is great news because I don't want to become a priest.” But I did like the idea of making a positive impact, starting with myself—in the choices I made, in the way I treated other people.

      Finally, there is another personal component to my self-reflection. In addition to my daily reflection, every year in early December I attend a silent retreat to think deeply about what matters to me. As the Jesuits who run the retreat explain, in silence we are able to “dispose ourselves” so that we can really listen to our inner thoughts. When we are silent and remove ourselves from the conversation, we listen on a deeper level. This retreat provides me with a few precious days free from phones and emails. All gadgets and devices are put away. There are only paper, a pen, and silence to dive into the key questions of who I am, what my values are, and what difference I want to make during the short time I am on this earth. And remember those self-reflection journals I've been keeping for 40 years? Three days of complete silence are the perfect time to review the past year, what I said I would do, how well (or poorly) I've kept these commitments, and where I can improve.

      From my days as a youth until today, self-reflection has been an anchor of my life. I took this habit with me when I went off to college at Lawrence University, where I received a degree in mathematics and economics, and then graduate school at Northwestern University's Kellogg School of Management for my MBA in finance and accounting. Self-reflection was a personal habit when I began my career, and in time, it became my foundation as a values-based leader.

Today, I'm privileged to teach values-based leadership at Kellogg and to give speeches and presentations on this topic to people around the world. I'm always touched by how much values-based leadership and leading a values-based life resonate with people. I'm grateful that these interactions are meaningful to others, and they help refresh me as I continue on my own values-based leadership journey. But I also know through several decades of personal experience that living a values-based life is not possible without self-reflection. It is the only way to discover your values, identify your priorities and what matters most, and pursue a balanced life.

WHAT GOES UP ALWAYS COMES DOWN (AND VICE VERSA)

      Even my best sales pitch for self-reflection as the key to pursuing life balance doesn't convince everyone. If you are still on the fence, then consider this: self-reflection is the best way I know to minimize worry, fear, anxiety, pressure, and stress. Who wouldn't want that? Not only are these emotions distracting and unproductive, they're also unhealthy.

      Once you're worrying about a problem, it's too late: worry has already set in. As you worry, you feel fear and anxiety, and then the