And we know that you can be lonely in a crowd and you can be lonely in a marriage, so the second big lesson that we learned is that it's not just the number of friends you have, and it's not whether or not you're in a committed relationship, but it's the quality of your close relationships that matters. It turns out that living in the midst of conflict is really bad for our health. High-conflict marriages, for example, without much affection, turn out to be very bad for our health, perhaps worse than getting divorced. And living in the midst of good, warm relationships is protective.
Once we had followed our men all the way into their 80s, we wanted to look back at them at midlife and to see if we could predict who was going to grow into a happy, healthy octogenarian and who wasn't. And when we gathered together everything we knew about them at age 50, it wasn't their middle age cholesterol levels that predicted how they were going to grow old. It was how satisfied they were in their relationships. The people who were the most satisfied in their relationships at age 50 were the healthiest at age 80. And good, close relationships seem to buffer us from some of the slings and arrows of getting old. Our most happily partnered men and women reported, in their 80s, that on the days when they had more physical pain, their mood stayed just as happy. But the people who were in unhappy relationships, on the days when they reported more physical pain, it was magnified by more emotional pain.
And the third big lesson that we learned about relationships and our health is that good relationships don't just protect our bodies, they protect our brains. It turns out that being in a securely attached relationship to another person in your 80s is protective, that the people who are in relationships where they really feel they can count on the other person in times of need, those people's memories stay sharper longer. And the people in relationships where they feel they really can't count on the other one, those are the people who experience earlier memory decline. And those good relationships, they don't have to be smooth all the time. Some of our octogenarian couples could bicker with each other day in and day out, but as long as they felt that they could really count on the other when the going got tough, those arguments didn't take a toll on their memories.
So this message, that good, close relationships are good for our health and well-being, this is wisdom that's as old as the hills. Why is this so hard to get and so easy to ignore? Well, we're human. What we'd really like is a quick fix, something we can get that'll make our lives good and keep them that way. Relationships are messy and they're complicated and the hard work of tending to family and friends, it's not sexy or glamorous. It's also lifelong. It never ends. The people in our 75-year study who were the happiest in retirement were the people who had actively worked to replace workmates with new playmates. Just like the millennials in that recent survey, many of our men when they were starting out as young adults really believed that fame and wealth and high achievement were what they needed to go after to have a good life. But over and over, over these 75 years, our study has shown that the people who fared the best were the people who leaned in to relationships, with family, with friends, with community.
The other thing that they had in common was this. They fully embraced vulnerability. Theybelieved that what made them vulnerable made them beautiful. They didn't talk about vulnerabilitybeing comfortable, nor did they talk about it being excruciating - as I had heard it earlier in theshame interviewing. They just talked about it being necessary. They talked about the willingness tosay "I love you" first, the willingness to do something where there are no guarantees, thewillingness to breathe through waiting for the doctor to call after your mammogram. They're willingto invest in a relationship that may or may not work out. They thought this was fundamental.
I personally thought it was betrayal. I could not believe I had pledged allegiance to research - thedefinition of research is to control and predict, to study phenomena, for the explicit reason tocontrol and predict. And now my mission to control and predict had turned up the answer that theway to live is with vulnerability and to stop controlling and predicting. This led to a little breakdown - (Laughter) - which actually looked more like this. (Laughter) And it did. I called it a breakdown, my therapist calls it a spiritual awakening. A spiritual awakening sounds better than breakdown, butI assure you it was a breakdown. And I had to put my data away and go find a therapist. Let metell you something: you know who you are when you call your friends and say, "I think I need tosee somebody. Do you have any recommendations?" Because about five of my friends were like, "Wooo. I wouldn't want to be your therapist." (Laughter) I was like, "What does that mean?" Andthey're like, "I'm just saying, you know. Don't bring your measuring stick." I was like,
"Okay."
So I found a therapist. My first meeting with her, Diana - I brought in my list of the way the whole-hearted live, and I sat down. And she said, "How are you?" And I said, "I'm great. I'm okay." Shesaid, "What's going on?" And this is a therapist who sees therapists, because we have to go tothose, because their B.S. meters are good. (Laughter) And so I said, "Here's the thing, I'mstruggling." And she said, "What's the struggle?" And I said, "Well,
I have a vulnerability issue. And I know that vulnerability is the core of shame and fear and ourstruggle for worthiness, but it appears that it's also the birthplace of joy, of creativity, of belonging, of love. And I think I have a problem, and I need some help." And I said, "But here's the thing, nofamily stuff, no childhood shit." (Laughter) "I just need some strategies." (Laughter) (Applause) Thank you. So she goes like this. (Laughter) And then I said, "It's bad, right?" And she said, "It'sneither good, nor bad." (Laughter) "It just is what it is." And I said, "Oh my God, this is going tosuck." (Laughter)
So where I started was with connection. Because, by the time you're a social worker for 10 years, what you realize is that connection is why we're here. It's what gives purpose and meaning to ourlives. This is what it's all about. It doesn't matter whether you talk to people who work in socialjustice and mental health and abuse and neglect, what we know is that connection, the ability tofeel connected, is - neurobiologically that's how we're wired - it's why we're here. So I thought, youknow what, I'm going to start with connection. Well you know that situation where you get anevaluation from your boss, and she tells you 37 things you do really awesome, and one thing - anopportunity for growth? (Laughter) And all you can think about is that opportunity for growth, right. Well apparently this is the way my work went as well, because, when you ask people aboutlove, they tell you about heartbreak. When you ask people about belonging, they'll tell you theirmost excruciating experiences of being excluded. And when you ask people about connection, thestories they told me were about disconnection.
So very quickly - really about six weeks into this research - I ran into this unnamed thing thatabsolutely unraveled connection in a way that I didn't understand or had never seen. And so Ipulled back out of the research and thought, I need to figure out what this is. And it turned out tobe shame. And shame is really easily understood as the fear of disconnection. Is there somethingabout me that, if other people know it or see it, that I won't be worthy of connection. The things Ican tell you about it: it's universal; we all have it. The only people who don't experience shamehave no capacity for human empathy or connection. No one wants to talk about it, and the lessyou talk about it the more you have it. What underpinned this shame, this "I'm not goodenough," - which we all know that feeling: "I'm not blank enough. I'm not thin enough, richenough, beautiful enough, smart enough, promoted enough." The thing that underpinned thiswas excruciating vulnerability, this idea of, in order for connection to happen, we have to allowourselves to be seen, really seen.
Number six: Don’t equate your experience with theirs. If they're talking about having lost a family member, don't start talking about the time you lost a family member. If they're talking about the trouble they're having at work, don't tell them about how much you hate your job. It's not the same. It is never the same. All experiences are individual. And, more importantly, it is not about you. You don’t need to take that moment to prove how amazing you are or how much you’ve suffered. Somebody asked Stephen Hawking once what his IQ was, and he said, "I have no idea. People who brag about their IQs are losers."
Number seven: Try not to repeat yourself. It's condescending, and it's really boring, and we tend to do it a lot. Especially in work conversations or in conversations with our kids, we have a point to make, so we just keep rephrasing it over and over. Don't do that.
Number eight: Stay out of the weeds. Frankly, people don't care about the years, the names, the dates, all those details that you're struggling to come up with in your mind. They don't care. What they care about is you. They care about what you're like, what you have in common. So forget the details. Leave them out.
Number nine: This is not the last one, but it is the most important one. Listen. I cannot tell you how many really important people have said that listening is perhaps the most, the number one most important skill that you could develop. Buddha said, and I'm paraphrasing, "If your mouth is open, you’re not learning." And Calvin Coolidge said, "No man ever listened his way out of a job."
One more rule, number 10, and it's this one: Be brief. [A good conversation is like a miniskirt; short enough to retain interest, but long enough to cover the subject. -- My Sister] All of this boils down to the same basic concept, and it is this one: Be interested in other people. You know, I grew up with a very famous grandfather, and there was kind of a ritual in my home. People would come over to talk to my grandparents, and after they would leave, my mother would come over to us, and she'd say, "Do you know who that was? She was the runner-up to Miss America. He was the mayor of Sacramento. She won a Pulitzer Prize. He's a Russian ballet dancer." And I kind of grew up assuming everyone has some hidden, amazing thing about them. And honestly, I think it's what makes me a better host. I keep my mouth shut as often as I possibly can, I keep my mind open, and I'm always prepared to be amazed, and I'm never disappointed. You do the same thing. Go out, talk to people, listen to people, and, most importantly, be prepared to be amazed.
So what about you? Let's say you're 25, or you're 40, or you're 60. What might leaning in to relationships even look like?
Well, the possibilities are practically endless. It might be something as simple as replacing screen time with people time or livening up a stale relationship by doing something new together, long walks or date nights, or reaching out to that family member who you haven't spoken to in years, because those all-too-common family feuds take a terrible toll on the people who hold the grudges.
I'd like to close with a quote from Mark Twain. More than a century ago, he was looking back on his life, and he wrote this: "There isn't time, so brief is life, for bickerings, apologies, heartburnings, callings to account. There is only time for loving, and but an instant, so to speak, for that."
The good life is built with good relationships.
Thank you.(Applause)
Since 1938, we've tracked the lives of two groups of men. The first group started in the study when they were sophomores at Harvard College. They all finished college during World War II, and then most went off to serve in the war. And the second group that we've followed was a group of boys from Boston's poorest neighborhoods, boys who were chosen for the study specifically because they were from some of the most troubled and disadvantaged families in the Boston of the 1930s. Most lived in tenements, many without hot and cold running water.
When they entered the study, all of these teenagers were interviewed. They were given medical exams. We went to their homes and we interviewed their parents. And then these teenagers grew up into adults who entered all walks of life. They became factory workers and lawyers and bricklayers and doctors, one President of the United States. Some developed alcoholism. A few developed schizophrenia. Some climbed the social ladder from the bottom all the way to the very top, and some made that journey in the opposite direction.
The founders of this study would never in their wildest dreams have imagined that I would be standing here today, 75 years later, telling you that the study still continues. Every two years, our patient and dedicated research staff calls up our men and asks them if we can send them yet one more set of questions about their lives.
Many of the inner city Boston men ask us, "Why do you keep wanting to study me? My life just isn't that interesting." The Harvard men never ask that question.(Laughter)
To get the clearest picture of these lives, we don't just send them questionnaires. We interview them in their living rooms. We get their medical records from their doctors. We draw their blood, we scan their brains, we talk to their children. We videotape them talking with their wives about their deepest concerns. And when, about a decade ago, we finally asked the wives if they would join us as members of the study, many of the women said, "You know, it's about time."(Laughter)
So what have we learned? What are the lessons that come from the tens of thousands of pages of information that we've generated on these lives? Well, the lessons aren't about wealth or fame or working harder and harder. The clearest message that we get from this 75-year study is this: Good relationships keep us happier and healthier. Period.
We've learned three big lessons about relationships. The first is that social connections are really good for us, and that loneliness kills. It turns out that people who are more socially connected to family, to friends, to community, are happier, they're physically healthier, and they live longer than people who are less well connected. And the experience of loneliness turns out to be toxic. People who are more isolated than they want to be from others find that they are less happy, their health declines earlier in midlife, their brain functioning declines sooner and they live shorter lives than people who are not lonely. And the sad fact is that at any given time, more than one in five Americans will report that they're lonely.
Why you should listen?
Dr. Robert Waldinger is Clinical Professor of Psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, Director of the Center for Psychodynamic Therapy and Research at Massachusetts General Hospital, and Director of the Harvard Study of Adult Development. The Study has tracked the lives of two groups of men for over 75 years. Dr. Waldinger is now expanding the Study to the Baby Boomer children of these men to understand how childhood experience reaches across decades to affect health and wellbeing in middle age.
Dr. Waldinger received his A.B. from Harvard College and his M.D. from Harvard Medical School. He is the author of numerous scientific papers as well as two books. He is a practicing psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, he teaches Harvard medical students and psychiatry residents, and he is on the faculty of the Boston Psychoanalytic Institute. He is also a Zen priest.
What keeps us healthy and happy as we go through life? If you were going to invest now in your future best self, where would you put your time and your energy? There was a recent survey of millennials asking them what their most important life goals were, and over 80 percent said that a major life goal for them was to get rich. And another 50 percent of those same young adults said that another major life goal was to become famous.
(Laughter)
And we're constantly told to lean in to work, to push harder and achieve more. We're given the impression that these are the things that we need to go after in order to have a good life. Pictures of entire lives, of the choices that people make and how those choices work out for them, those pictures are almost impossible to get. Most of what we know about human life we know from asking people to remember the past, and as we know, hindsight is anything but 20/20. We forget vast amounts of what happens to us in life, and sometimes memory is downright creative.
But what if we could watch entire lives as they unfold through time? What if we could study people from the time that they were teenagers all the way into old age to see what really keeps people happy and healthy?
We did that. The Harvard Study of Adult Development may be the longest study of adult life that's ever been done. For 75 years, we've tracked the lives of 724 men, year after year, asking about their work, their home lives, their health, and of course asking all along the way without knowing how their life stories were going to turn out.
Studies like this are exceedingly rare. Almost all projects of this kind fall apart within a decade because too many people drop out of the study, or funding for the research dries up, or the researchers get distracted, or they die, and nobody moves the ball further down the field. But through a combination of luck and the persistence of several generations of researchers, this study has survived. About 60 of our original 724 men are still alive, still participating in the study, most of them in their 90s. And we are now beginning to study the more than 2,000 children of these men. And I'm the fourth director of the study.
We perfect. If there's anyone who wants their life to look like this it would be me, but it doesn'twork. Because what we do is we take fat from our butts and put it in our cheeks. (Laughter) Which just, I hope in a hundred years, people will look back and go, "Wow." (Laughter)
And we perfect, most dangerously, our children. Let me tell you what we think about children. They're hardwired for struggle when they get here. And when you hold those perfect little babies inyour hand, our job is not so say, "Look at her, she's perfect. My job is just to keep her perfect - make sure she makes the tennis team by fifth grade and Yale by seventh grade." That's not ourjob. Our job is to look and say, "You know what? You're imperfect, and you're wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging." That's our job. Show me a generation of kids raisedlike that, and we'll end the problems I think that we see today. We pretend that what we dodoesn't have an effect on people. We do that in our personal lives. We do that corporate - whether it's a bailout, an oil spill, a recall - we pretend like what we're doing doesn't have a hugeimpact on other people. I would say to companies, this is not our first rodeo people. We just needyou to be authentic and real and say, "We're sorry. We'll fix it."
But there's another way, and I leave you with this. This is what I have found: to let ourselves beseen, deeply seen, vulnerably seen; to love with our whole hearts, even though there's noguarantee - and that's really hard, and I can tell you as a parent, that's excruciatingly difficult - topractice gratitude and joy in those moments of terror, when we're wondering, "Can I love you thismuch? Can I believe in this this passionately? Can I be this fierce about this?" just to be able tostop and, instead of catastrophizing what might happen, to say, "I'm just so grateful, because tofeel this vulnerable means I'm alive." And the last, which I think is probably the most important, isto believe that we're enough. Because when we work from a place I believe that says, "I'menough," then we stop screaming and start listening, we're kinder and gentler to the peoplearound us, and we're kinder and gentler to ourselves.
That's all I have. Thank you. (Applause)
From Brene Brown
And it did, and it didn't. And it took about a year. And you knowhow there are people that, when they realize that vulnerabilityand tenderness are important, that they surrender and walk intoit. A: that's not me, and B: I don't even hang out with peoplelike that. (Laughter) For me, it was a yearlong street fight. Itwas a slugfest. Vulnerability pushed, I pushed back. I lost thefight, but probably won my life back.
And so then I went back into the research and spent the nextcouple of years really trying to understand what they, the whole-hearted, what choices they weremaking, and what are we doing with vulnerability. Why do we struggle with it so much? Am I alonein struggling with vulnerability? No. So this is what I learned. We numb vulnerability - when we'rewaiting for the call. It was funny, I sent something out on Twitter and on Facebook that says, "How would you define vulnerability? What makes you feel vulnerable?" And within an hour and ahalf, I had a 150 responses. Because I wanted to know what's out there. Having to ask myhusband for help, because I'm sick, and we're newly married; initiating sex with my husband; initiating sex with my wife; being turned down; asking someone out; waiting for the doctor to callback; getting laid-off; laying-off people - this is the world we live in. We live in a vulnerable world. And one of the ways we deal with it is we numb vulnerability.
And I think there's evidence - and it's not the only reason this evidence exists, but I think it's ahuge cause - we are the most in-debt, obese, addicted and medicated adult cohort in U.S. history. The problem is - and I learned this from the research - that you cannot selectively numb emotion. You can't say, here's the bad stuff. Here's vulnerability, here's grief, here's shame, here's fear, here's disappointment, I don't want to feel these. I'm going to have a couple of beers and abanana nut muffin. (Laughter) I don't want to feel these. And I know that's knowing laughter. Ihack into your lives for a living. God. (Laughter) You can't numb those hard feelings withoutnumbing the affects, our emotions. You cannot selectively numb. So when we numb those, wenumb joy, we numb gratitude, we numb happiness. And then we are miserable, and we are lookingfor purpose and meaning, and then we feel vulnerable, so then we have a couple of beers and abanana nut muffin. And it becomes this dangerous cycle.
One of the things that I think we need to think about is why and how we numb. And it doesn't justhave to be addiction. The other thing we do is we make everything that's uncertain certain. Religion has gone from a belief in faith and mystery to certainty. I'm right, you're wrong. Shut up. That's it. Just certain. The more afraid we are, the more vulnerable we are, the more afraid we are. This is what politics looks like today. There's no discourse anymore.
There's no conversation. There's just blame. You know how blame is described in the research? Away to discharge pain and discomfort.
The other thing that they had in common was this. They fully embraced vulnerability. Theybelieved that what made them vulnerable made them beautiful. They didn't talk about vulnerabilitybeing comfortable, nor did they talk about it being excruciating - as I had heard it earlier in theshame interviewing. They just talked about it being necessary. They talked about the willingness tosay "I love you" first, the willingness to do something where there are no guarantees, thewillingness to breathe through waiting for the doctor to call after your mammogram. They're willingto invest in a relationship that may or may not work out. They thought this was fundamental.
I personally thought it was betrayal. I could not believe I had pledged allegiance to research - thedefinition of research is to control and predict, to study phenomena, for the explicit reason tocontrol and predict. And now my mission to control and predict had turned up the answer that theway to live is with vulnerability and to stop controlling and predicting. This led to a little breakdown - (Laughter) - which actually looked more like this. (Laughter) And it did. I called it a breakdown, my therapist calls it a spiritual awakening. A spiritual awakening sounds better than breakdown, butI assure you it was a breakdown. And I had to put my data away and go find a therapist. Let metell you something: you know who you are when you call your friends and say, "I think I need tosee somebody. Do you have any recommendations?" Because about five of my friends were like, "Wooo. I wouldn't want to be your therapist." (Laughter) I was like, "What does that mean?" Andthey're like, "I'm just saying, you know. Don't bring your measuring stick." I was like,
"Okay."
So I found a therapist. My first meeting with her, Diana - I brought in my list of the way the whole-hearted live, and I sat down. And she said, "How are you?" And I said, "I'm great. I'm okay." Shesaid, "What's going on?" And this is a therapist who sees therapists, because we have to go tothose, because their B.S. meters are good. (Laughter) And so I said, "Here's the thing, I'mstruggling." And she said, "What's the struggle?" And I said, "Well,
I have a vulnerability issue. And I know that vulnerability is the core of shame and fear and ourstruggle for worthiness, but it appears that it's also the birthplace of joy, of creativity, of belonging, of love. And I think I have a problem, and I need some help." And I said, "But here's the thing, nofamily stuff, no childhood shit." (Laughter) "I just need some strategies." (Laughter) (Applause) Thank you. So she goes like this. (Laughter) And then I said, "It's bad, right?" And she said, "It'sneither good, nor bad." (Laughter) "It just is what it is." And I said, "Oh my God, this is going tosuck." (Laughter)
And you know how I feel about vulnerability. I hatevulnerability. And so I thought, this is my chance to beat it backwith my measuring stick. I'm going in, I'm going to figure thisstuff out, I'm going to spend a year; I'm going to totallydeconstruct shame, I'm going to understand how vulnerabilityworks, and I'm going to outsmart it. So I was ready, and I wasreally excited. As you know, it's not going to turn out well. (Laughter) You know this. So I could tell you a lot about shame, but I'd have to borrow everyone else's time. But here's what I can tell you that it boils down to - and this may be one of the most important things that I've ever learned in the decade of doingthis research. My one year turned into six years, thousands of stories, hundreds of long interviews, focus groups. At one point people were sending me journal pages and sending me their stories - thousands of pieces of data in six years. And I kind of got a handle on it.
I kind of understood, this is what shame is, this is how it works. I wrote a book, I published atheory, but something was not okay - and what it was is that, if I roughly took the people Iinterviewed and divided them into people who really have a sense of worthiness - that's what thiscomes down to, a sense of worthiness - they have a strong sense of love and belonging - and folkswho struggle for it, and folks who are always wondering if their good enough. There was only onevariable that separated the people who have a strong sense of love and belonging and the peoplewho really struggle for it. And that was, the people who have a strong sense of love and belongingbelieve they're worthy of love and belonging. That's it. They believe they're worthy. And to me, the hard part of the one thing that keeps us out of connection is our fear that we're not worthy ofconnection, was something that, personally and professionally, I felt like I needed to understandbetter. So what I did is I took all of the interviews where I saw worthiness, where I saw people livingthat way, and just looked at those.
What do these people have in common? I have a slight office supply addiction, but that's anothertalk. So I had a manila folder, and I had a Sharpie, and I was like, what am I going to call thisresearch? And the first words that came to my mind were whole-hearted. These are whole-heartedpeople, living from this deep sense of worthiness. So I wrote at the top of the manila folder, and Istarted looking at the data. In fact, I did it first in a four-day very intensive data analysis, where Iwent back, pulled these interviews, pulled the stories, pulled the incidents. What's the theme? What's the pattern? My husband left town with the kids because I always go into this JacksonPollock crazy thing, where I'm just like writing and in my researcher mode. And so here's what Ifound. What they had in common was a sense of courage. And I want to separate courage andbravery for you for a minute. Courage, the original definition of courage when it first came into theEnglish language - it's from the Latin word cor, meaning heart - and the original definition was to tellthe story of who you are with your whole heart. And so these folks had, very simply, the courageto be imperfect. They had the compassion to be kind to themselves first and then to others, because, as it turns out, we can't practice compassion with other people if we can't treat ourselveskindly. And the last was they had connection, and - this was the hard part - as a result ofauthenticity, they were willing to let go of who they thought they should be in order to be whothey were, which you have to absolutely do that for connection.
So, I'll start with this: a couple years ago, an event planner called me because I was going to do aspeaking event. And she called, and she said, "I'm really struggling with how to write about you onthe little flier." And I thought, "Well, what's the struggle?" And she said, "Well, I saw you speak, andI'm going to call you a researcher, I think, but I'm afraid if I call you a researcher no one will come, because they'll think you're boring and irrelevant." (Laughter) Okay. And she said, "But the thing Iliked about your talk is you're a storyteller. So I think what I'll do is just call you a storyteller." Andof course the academic, insecure part of me was like, "You're going to call me a what?" And shesaid, "I'm going to call you a storyteller." And I was like, "Why not magic pixie?" (Laughter) I waslike, "Let me think about this for a second." I tried to call deep on my courage. And I thought, I ama storyteller. I'm a qualitative researcher. I collect stories; that's what I do. And maybe stories arejust data with a soul. And maybe I'm just a storyteller. And so I said, "You know what? Why don'tyou just say I'm a researcher-storyteller." And she went, "Haha. There's no such thing." (Laughter) So I'm a researcher-storyteller, and I'm going to talk to you today - we're talking aboutexpanding perception - and so I want to talk to you and tell some stories about a piece of myresearch that fundamentally expanded my perception and really actually changed the way that Ilive and love and work and parent.
And this is where my story starts. When I was a young researcher, doctoral student, my first yearI had a research professor who said to us, "Here's the thing, if you cannot measure it, it does notexist." And I thought he was just sweet-talking me. I was like, "Really?" and he was like, "Absolutely." And so you have to understand that I have a bachelor's in social work, a master's insocial work, and I was getting my Ph.D. in social work, so my entire academic career wassurrounded by people who kind of believed in the life's messy, love it. And I'm more of the, life'smessy, clean it up, organize it and put it into a bento box. (Laughter) And so to think that I hadfound my way, to found a career that takes me - really, one of the big sayings in social work is leaninto the discomfort of the work. And I'm like, knock discomfort upside the head and move it overand get all A's. That was my mantra. So I was very excited about this. And so I thought, you knowwhat, this is the career for me, because I am interested in some messy topics. But I want to beable to make them not messy. I want to understand them. I want to hack into these things Iknow are important and lay the code out for everyone to see.
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