Biographies and my Happiness

Biographies of people who affected my happiness first became important to me in 1983.

I figured if I knew something about –usually–the men who wielded an influence on my life, I might better roll with emotional punches delivered to innocent me.

It started with my husband’s ultimate boss. One man controlled my husband’s time and how he did his job: Rear Admiral Hyman Rickover.

Rickover: Controversy and Genius

So I read his biography, Rickover: Controversy and Genius. I learned that the admiral’s passion for excellence knew no bounds where nuclear safety was concerned. He demanded hard work and long hours from his nukes because the Navy couldn’t risk a nuclear accident.

It helped to know that, particularly the year my husband was physically away from home 75% of the time.

Sort of.

Biographies warning about attitudes

In 1993, I read Virginia Clinton Kelley‘s Leading With My Heart, to learn something about my husband’s Commander in Chief. The Clintons themselves hadn’t written anything yet, so I figured the president’s mother would be an interesting source of information.

She was.

It turns out no one in the Clinton family thought the laws applied to them. For generations back, the “good times are for us,” clan skirted the law and pretty much did what they pleased.

Very interesting.

Attitude check with Elisabeth Elliot

Elisabeth Elliot‘s books about her husband, Jim Elliott, and her work with the Waodani Indians of Ecuador were fascinating. From a woman I considered a mentor, I learned a lot about faith.  Her example helped straighten my spine during difficult times–because from my reading, I knew Elisabeth would ask, “you’re not indulging in self-pity, are you?”

Of course not, Elisabeth. I wouldn’t dare.

Through Gates of Splendor and Shadow of the Almighty showed me how to walk in obedience to God despite how things looked.

Biographies and missing information

I enjoyed Barack Obama’s beautifully written Dreams from My Father. But like all memoirs, it’s notable for both what it includes and what it omits.

Even while reading the excellent prose, I kept asking questions. Where were you between college and law school? What happened to those six years of your life? Why can’t I nail down how you really thought about these issues?

The author felt like a cipher, and I never got definitive answers to questions I thought were important.

Curious.

Steve Jobs

I loved  Walter Isaacson‘s biography of Steve Jobs.

I’m thrilled with my I-touch and I-pad. I’m the same age as the late Jobs and I have friends who worked in Silicon Valley when Apple got its start.

A lot of this material was familiar to me–and it’s fascinating to move through memory lane with computer systems!

(An Osborne here, pre-windows logging on there. You can almost hear the “hee-haw, hee-haw” of AOL starting up).

This one is disconcerting. I knew some things about Jobs, but he made such a difference to my life through computer systems, Pixar, and the tools I have, I was curious about his motivations.

He wanted to change the world. Who can blame him?

But he was a mercurial man to work for, and often cruel.

Bummer.

The Tapestry

The book that really did change my life was Edith Schaeffer‘s The Tapestry. Another spiritual mentor to me, Edith provided a window into God-led decision-making.

I was struck the day I read it, that whenever Edith and her husband Francis had a difficult decision to make, they always took the hard one.

I’m not sure I would have realized that without reading their memoir.

That day, I made a vow. “The next time I have  a choice, Lord, I’ll take the hard one.” Click to Tweet

It walked in the door an hour later.

I swallowed and said, “yes.”

And it made all the difference.

Thanks, Edith.