A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a homespun threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston and walked timidly, without an appointment, into the Harvard University President's outer office.

The secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hicks had no business at Harvard, & probably didn't even deserve to be in Cambridge.

 "We'd like to see the president," the man said softly.

 "He'll be busy all day," the secretary snapped.

 "We'll wait," the lady replied.

 For hours the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would finally become discouraged and go away.
They didn't, and the secretary grew frustrated and finally decided to disturb the president, even though it was a chore she always regretted.

 "Maybe if you see them for a few minutes, they'll leave," she said to him.

 He sighed in exasperation and nodded. Someone of his importance obviously didn't have the time to spend with them, and he detested gingham dresses and homespun suits cluttering up his outer office

 The president, stern faced and with dignity, strutted toward the couple.

 The lady told him, "We had a son who attended Harvard for one year. He loved Harvard. He was happy here.
But about a year ago, he was accidentally killed. My husband and I would like to erect a memorial to him, somewhere on campus."

 The president wasn't touched. He was shocked. "Madam," he said, gruffly, "we can't put up a statue for every person who attended Harvard and died. If we did, this place would look like a cemetery."

 "Oh, no," the lady explained quickly. "We don't want to erect a statue We thought we would like to give a building to Harvard."

The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and homespun suit, then exclaimed, "A building! Do you have any earthly idea how much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million dollars in the physical buildings here at Harvard."

 For a moment the lady was silent.

The president was pleased. Maybe he could get rid of them now.

The lady turned to her husband and said quietly, "Is that all it costs to start a university?
Why don't we just start our own? "

Her husband nodded.

The president's face wilted in confusion and bewilderment.

 Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford got up and walked away, traveling to Palo Alto, California where they established the university that bears their name, Stanford University, a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared about.

 You can easily judge the character of others by how they treat those who they think can do nothing for them.

The quality of our lives is greatly influenced by whom we elect to spend our time with. We must surround ourselves with as many amazing people as possible. The people that see things in us that we cannot always see in ourselves. 

To live a more meaningful and productive life, there has to be a healthy balance between yes and no. Servant leaders, tend to place other people's needs above their own. As we serve, inspire and empower the hearts and minds of those we lead, it is imperative to remain present and aware to not become intoxicated with saying yes just because we are making others happy. When we become intoxicated with yes, we fall into the trap of trying to please everybody but end up pleasing nobody.

Trying to please everybody is a recipe for failure. There is not a fixed ratio between yes and no and must be based on the unique context of the situation. Listen to your intuition and deeply understand that "no" is a sentence. By saying no at times you reclaim your time, energy and life. 

When you take your life back and overcome the intoxication to say yes you allow for quality and strategic thinking to have the mind space to flourish. A great way to deal with our own lives and thought processes is to examine which habits, commitments and conversations are fueled by growth purpose versus comfort routine. Those fueled by intention will provide unique experiences for you to evolve and discover the outer depths of who you are.

Our past is filled with fond memories. The future with extraordinary opportunities. But this moment is the only one that will ever be guaranteed. So make yourself uncomfortable so you can be comfortable and let go of ways of living that are no longer serving and enriching your life and holistic development. ​

Bill Walsh is regarded as one of the greatest coaches in NFL history. As the head coach of the San Francisco Forty-Niners from 1979 to 1988, Walsh won three Super Bowls. He is one of four coaches in NFL history to win three or more Super Bowls.
 
When Walsh took over the 49ers in 1979 they were a rag tag bunch that had gone 2-14 the previous season. He immediately implemented his own performance standards which included: "no shirttails out," "positive attitude," "promptness," "good sportsmanship (no strutting, no posturing, no cheap shots)," "never sit down while on the practice field," "no tank tops in the dining area," "control of profanity," "no fighting," "treat fans with respect and exhibit a professional demeanor," and many more.
 
It was not a quick fix. The 49ers went 2-14 again in his first season. The next year started better with three wins but then they lost eight games in a row. Their eighth loss was in Miami. In his excellent book with Steve Jamison and Craig Walsh The Score Takes Care of Itself Walsh describes his plane ride home after the game:
 
Coaches aren't supposed to cry, but I'm not ashamed to admit that on the night flight back to San Francisco I sat in my seat in the first row of the plane and broke down sobbing in the darkness.
 
Most debilitating of all—devastating—was a gnawing fear that I didn't have what it takes to be an NFL head coach. At one point I actually decided to hand in my resignation the next morning; then I changed my mind.
 
Coach Walsh decided to go with his mantra: Stand and Fight Again. In his book, he goes on to list his rules for dealing with disappointment:
 
MY FIVE DOS FOR GETTING BACK INTO THE GAME:
 

1. Do expect defeat. It's a given when the stakes are high and the competition is working ferociously to beat you. If you're surprised when it happens, you're dreaming; dreamers don't last long.
2. Do force yourself to stop looking backward and dwelling on the professional "train wreck" you have just been in. It's mental quicksand.
3. Do allow yourself appropriate recovery—grieving time. You've been knocked senseless; give yourself a little time to recuperate. A keyword here is "little." Don't let it drag on.
4. Do tell yourself, "I am going to stand and fight again," with the knowledge that often when things are at their worst you're closer than you can imagine to success. Our Super Bowl victory arrived less than sixteen months after my "train wreck" in Miami.
5. Do begin planning for your next serious encounter. The smallest steps—plans—move you forward on the road to recovery. Focus on the fix.

 
MY FIVE DON'TS: 1. Don't ask, "Why me?" 2. Don't expect sympathy. 3. Don't bellyache. 4. Don't keep accepting condolences. 5. Don't blame others.
 
What's your checklist to: Stand and Fight Again?