One simple rule is having a big impact.

I didn’t invent the rule. I discovered it—at a small, fast growing, highly successful company that implements simple practices with extraordinary results.

One day I was having lunch with Dwight Cooper, a tall, thin, mild-mannered former basketball player and coach who had spent the last 10 years building and growing a company he co-founded into one of the leading nurse staffing companies in the world.

Dwight’s company, PPR, was named one of Inc. Magazine‘s Fastest Growing Companies several times but on this day it was named one of the best companies to work for in the country and Dwight was sharing a few reasons why.

Dwight told me of a book he read about dealing with jerks and energy vampires in the work place. But after reading and reflecting on the book he realized that when it comes to building a positive, high performing business there was a much more subtle and far more dangerous problem than jerks. It was complaining and more subtle forms of negativity and he knew he needed a solution.

Dwight compared jerks to a kind of topical skin cancer. They don’t hide. They stand right in front of you and say, “Here I am.” As a result you can easily and quickly remove them. Far more dangerous is the kind of cancer that is subtle and inside your body. It grows hidden beneath the surface, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, but either way if not caught, it eventually spreads to the point where it can and will destroy the body.

Complaining and negativity is this kind of cancer to an individual and organization and Dwight had seen it ruin far too many. He was determined not to become another statistic and The No Complaining Rule was born.

Despite the name The No Complaining Rule, which is also the title of my new book, the goal is not to eliminate all complaining. Just mindless complaining that negatively impacts our health and performance and sabotages our individual and team success. And the bigger goal is to turn complaints into solutions and positive actions. After all, every complaint represents an opportunity to turn something negative into a positive.

Instead of letting complaining generate negative energy, we can use it for a positive purpose. We can utilize our complaints to move us towards solutions and positive actions.

The key is to determine if a complaint is a mindless complaint or a justified complaint. If it’s a justified complaint then the goal is to think of one or two possible solutions and/or positive actions to address and rectify the complaint.

On the other hand if you are engaging in or dealing with in mindless complaining then you’ll want to try to break the habit ASAP. Start by trying not to complain for one whole day. And then challenge yourself by following my No Complaining Week. Try it and let me know how you did!

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I am one of those people who has the tendency to never be satisfied. It is like a disease. When I was in college, I wanted a communications job in New York City. Once I had that job, I wanted to get ahead quickly.

A couple of promotions later, I decided I didn’t like working in Corporate America and started my own marketing business.

I got that business going fairly easily, but found I was spending too much time attracting and servicing clients and wanted more time to write. Now I write full time, and I miss the daily people interaction!

I inherited this trait from my dad and it’s reinforced by my equally unsatisfied husband. But no matter. The way I’m headed, this will go on and on until I’m dead. And in heaven, no one gives you a gold star because you were successful in a variety of endeavors.

I think that in the end, what really matters is if you were happy or not. And if you’re never satisfied with your lot, it sure is hard to be happy. I’ve asked some people for advice on how to become more satisfied, and here are some of the gems I’ve heard and tried myself:

1. Don’t always “one-up.”
It’s annoying when an acquaintance does it to you in a bar, so don’t do it to yourself. When you meet a goal you worked hard for, take a moment to celebrate the achievement instead of immediately focusing on what you can, or should do next.

2. Live in the moment.
As Ferris famously said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” People who get bogged down in the past or are always looking ahead to the future miss the small joys of life—like eating a perfectly well-done burger or seeing their baby smile—that are right in front of them today.

3. Find a positive angle.
Everyone experiences setbacks, but be careful not to allow a negative turn of events to color your view of the world. Look for something in the scenario that will help you learn and grow, and focus on that as you weather through.

4. Look for the good in people.
It’s easy to ruminate on your friends’ and family members’ flaws, as I’m sure there are many of them. But by having unrealistic expectations of what people should do or how they should act, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. The truth is that most people mean well, even if they screw up every now and then.

5. Be thankful for the big things.
In my house, we have a tendency to “sweat the small stuff.” But come on. I have a great career, a stable family, a roof over my head, and a healthy body. Do I really need to fret over the fact that Bass didn’t take my expired coupons?

6. Beware of the “grass is always greener.”
You don’t know the intimate details of other people’s situations, so it’s irrational to be jealous of them. And remember that you can be satisfied without being perfect. Even if you have your dream job or your dream family, you’re bound to have bad days. That doesn’t mean you should overhaul everything because you think you can do better someplace else.

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WHY NOT?! I must’ve said that a million times growing up. My grandparents raised me in a Philadelphia suburb, and whenever I couldn’t have something I wanted, I’d say, “Why not?!” even though I knew the reason: There was no money for extras. To me, Why not?! were words of complaint. It wasn’t until I met Miz Lane, the schoolteacher across the street, that I learned Why not?! are two of the most powerful words in the English language—the words of possibility.

No one expected me to amount to much. Not my parents, who abandoned my brothers and me. Not my grandparents, who loved us but were too overwhelmed with keeping us fed and clothed to think beyond the basics. Not my teachers, who saw a kid more interested in sports than books. And certainly not me. The only place I didn’t feel lost was the playground. I was small but fast and good at playing ball.

My grandparents’ neighborhood was one modest square block in an otherwise affluent area. Miz Lane and her family moved in when I was nine. Her son, Norman, and I were both little and scrawny. People said we looked like brothers. One day Norman and I got into a sandlot fight (the “you’re the new kid on the block” fight). After an unimpressive pugilistic moment (by our neighborhood standards), he asked, “Want to come over for peanut butter and jelly?” I sure did!

The first time I stepped inside the Lanes’ house, I could tell it was different. There was a warmth to it, a warmth I’d never known. And it came from Norman’s mom, Miz Lane. She sat us down and fixed us PB&J sandwiches. I depended on the free lunch program at school, so that was a real treat.

Miz Lane must have sensed that I was hungry for more than food. She asked about me. What was my favorite sport? Did I like to ride bikes? “You come over anytime,” Miz Lane said.

I did, almost every day. Norman got to be my best friend, and the Lanes’ house was my refuge, especially after my grandmother died when I was 10. That summer, Norman went away to camp. I still dropped by. Miz Lane would fix me a snack. I’d help her do the dishes. She’d comb my hair (I was sporting an Afro then). It took a while to work through the kinks, and that’s when we had our best talks. She’d have me read from Miss Manners or the encyclopedia. She never stopped teaching, not even during summer vacation.

One day that fall, I told her, “I’m thinking about trying out for the school play.” Not that there was any chance I’d make it. “Why not?!” Miz Lane said. “You’ll never know how good you are until you try.”

I was stunned. No one had ever had that kind of faith in me before. The next day, I tried out. To my surprise, I landed a role. I raced straight from school to Miz Lane’s. “They chose me!”

“Why not?!” she said. Her smile told me she knew I’d had it in me all along.

“Why not?!” Miz Lane asked when I mentioned learning the cello. “Why not?!” she demanded when she urged me to take college preparatory courses instead of vocational classes. “Get ready for college. Don’t let others define your possibilities.”

Norman and I went away to college. He graduated. I didn’t. Maybe it was because I missed Miz Lane’s daily wisdom. My girlfriend and I had a baby. I dropped out and moved back in with my grandfather. I got a job as a stock boy. At first, I was too embarrassed to visit Miz Lane. I felt I’d let her down.

I’d let myself down too. I wanted to do bigger things. But how? I had no money, no degree, a child to support. All of a sudden, I heard Miz Lane’s voice in my head, clear as a bell: Why not?!

I enlisted in the Air Force and went to tell Miz Lane. “I’m going to make something of myself,” I said. She hugged me. I’d never felt so proud.

The Air Force trained me to be a translator and stationed me in Germany. My secret dream was to play pro soccer. I was a good player, still fast, and I made the Air Force team.

The day before a big playoff game, I got word that Norman died in a car accident. I dedicated the game to my best friend. In the second half I jumped up to kick the ball. I landed funny. My knee buckled. Just like that, my dream was finished.

I went back to Philly for Norman’s funeral on crutches. Soon as Miz Lane saw me, she cried, “From now on, you’re my son.”

It was a responsibility I had to live up to. “I’d like to stay in sports, go back to school to study athletic training,” I said. Guess what Miz Lane said. “Why not?!”

At St. Joseph’s University I was the head athletic trainer by day and a student by night. At graduation, Miz Lane’s smile told me again: I knew you had it in you.

I got a job as the Philadelphia 76ers head athletic trainer. A few years later I landed an executive position with Nike. I thought I’d hit the jackpot. So I was taken aback when Miz Lane said, “I know there’s something bigger waiting for you.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“Your story is an inspiration to everyone in this neighborhood,” she said. “You need to write a book to show other people how they can do what you did.”

“I can’t write a book!”

“Why not?!” Miz Lane said. And as usual, she was right.

In 2005 I wrote Rules of the Red Rubber Ball, a book about finding and following your dreams. Now I travel the world, talking to business groups and most importantly, to kids. If I could make something of myself, I tell them, they can too. It’s my way of following in the footsteps of the best teacher I ever had. Why not?!