Thinking Like A 90-Year Old Grandma

I recently gave a talk to a group of high school juniors and seniors on “how to prepare for college.”  Afterwards, Noel, a junior, thanked me for coming and then told me she’s worried about the whole application “thing.”  When I asked where she wanted to go to school, she said, “I don’t know.  I don’t think I can get into a good school.”  I asked her why she thought a “good” school wouldn’t want her.  “I don’t know; it’s just that there’s a lot of competition––a lot of kids better than me.”  Ugh–– she sounded as upbeat as my 90 year-old arthritic grandmother!  I asked where she’d like to go and she named two schools, each of which was competitive, though not in the Ivy League stratosphere.  I suggested she apply to them along with her “safe” schools.  What did she have to lose?

Her mom joined us and I quickly learned that Noel was no slacker either in academics or activities.  Impressed, I again encouraged her to apply to her dream schools.  Her mom nudged her, “do you hear what he’s saying?” She looked at me without smiling, shrugged and said, “I guess, but I know they won’t accept me.”

If we break down Noel’s inner monologue, it goes something like this:  I can’t get into where I want to go THEREFORE I’m a loser THEREFORE I have no chance at happiness THEREFORE why should I even try THEREFORE my life sucks. . .STOP!

This is crazy thinking and we all do it in some form, though some of us have perfected it into an Emmy-winning soap opera.

Noel doesn’t know for a fact that the schools she wants to get into will reject her.  She hasn’t even applied to them.

Also, she’s thinking in polar opposites and torturing herself in the process––“either I get into one of these two schools OR I am doomed to a miserable four-year stint at some crappy college.”  There are scores of schools where she could thrive, but she hasn’t investigated them because she’s too busy playing the victim of her own unhappiness.

Why do people think that being negative is actually a positive thing?  Negative thinking isn’t going to help you, so why choose to be cruel to yourself?

Be confident.  Confidence comes from taking stock of who you are at this point in your life––the good, the bad, the ugly, and everything in-between.  The confident person acknowledges their weaknesses and owns their strengths.  From confidence you can assess a situation, make reasonable choices, and assume responsibility for those choices.

It’s a cliché, but true––your attitude in life determines life’s attitude towards you. 

Be confident.  Be kind. 

The Gift Of "Thank You"

This past weekend, I received a “thank-you” email from a former client. It’s been more than a year since Brenna completed her work with me and it was such a lovely surprise to hear from her.  This is a snippet of what she wrote:

Every time I have the urge to say, "it’s ok" when someone apologizes I remember your coaching. It feels so empowering to acknowledge the apologies without telling a co-worker or friend that what they have done is "ok."

In my workshops and coaching, I often remind people that the two most powerful words we can say are: “thank you.”  Brenna reminded me of this and I felt gratified knowing that I had helped her improve the quality of her life. 

Brenna also reminded me of something that numerous of my clients (stereotypically, women) work on––excessive apologizing and/or dismissing another person’s apology.  I’ve even had clients who’d say “I’m sorry” when someone bumped into them!  

In Brenna’s case, though, she had the habit of dismissing a person’s apology when they did have reason to apologize.  She felt embarrassed and didn’t want them to feel bad.  Recognizing an apology, though, is a show of respect––for both the other person and your self, as well as for your relationship.

And lastly, Brenna’s email reminded me that the only sure way to improve your communication is through practice––practice that extends well beyond any of the work that we do together.  Brenna today feels empowered because she has worked mindfully at accepting the gift of an apology and not dismissing the other person’s feelings or her own.  This hasn’t come easy to her, but she’s now enjoying the results of much practice.

So, are you mindfully practicing some small change in the way you communicate? 

If not, and you want to start, why not reach out and thank someone for help they gave you a while ago––help that is still helping you?!

Gutting Fish

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, then you know that I’m a huge fan of Melissa Cistaro’s writing.

This latest is one of her shortest, yet had me guessing as to where she was taking us.  The last sentence stunned me.

I offer this “snapshot” from Melissa as it resonates with my recent posting on “Why we see what we see and don’t see what we don’t see.”

Again, I invite you to consider what influences the way you “see,” approach relationships, challenges, and the overall life you are creating.

The Catch

by Melissa Cistaro

By the time they slid out of the cooler and onto our front porch, the ice surrounding their slippery bodies was nearly melted.

“Six silver Steelhead. Fresh out of the Klamath River,” announced my mother.

They were sterling, pewter, and black. Yellow-eyed and long as my legs.

My mother pulled out a buck horn knife and made a line, clean and silent across the soft belly. A drop of rich red splattered between her pink toenails. She shoved the knife in deeper. I heard the sound of thin bones snapping like taut strings, the steel point of the knife scraping along a fine backbone. Her fingers full of turquoise rings, yanked at things inside of the fish.

I was afraid of her. She wasn’t predictable when she was drinking.

“Look at these,” she said to me.

In her hand she held out three round fleshy balls. I winced. She pushed them closer to my face. They were like antique marbles, giant freshwater pearls—rare eggs with deep green and creamy swirls. They glistened in her palm.

“Aren’t these amazing?” she said, squeezing my arm. I didn’t want to touch them. And then I did. Fish guts. Soft, wobbly, and wet.

Perhaps now, so many seasons later, and her gone, I understand it better.

It was my mother who taught me beauty could exist in anything.

What's Your Swing Dance?

When the earth quakes, the wise person dances.

African proverb

Last week I had dinner with Hannah, a wedding photographer friend.

Our conversation flew fast and furious and the topic of the economy inevitably came up.  Hanna spoke of her current struggle to find wedding “gigs.”

Later, she told me how she recently reconnected on Facebook with two friends from her days in Miami. She was twenty-five and had left Long Island in search of an adventure. Carefree, she worked as a professional swing dancer.

The following week, Hannah and I met for breakfast and picked-up our conversation.  Financial worries were chipping away at her self-confidence—in general and as a photographer.  Uncertainty was paralyzing her.

Tough times ask challenging questions of us.  And so I asked Hannah—how much was she willing to sacrifice to fear?

She said she didn’t want to sacrifice anything--she didn’t want fear to be a constant companion. 

I then suggested she take-up swing dancing again.  She looked at me like I was nuts.  But, what better way to reconnect with your self than with what gives you pleasure?  I urged her to face fear with enjoyment.

She’s taken me up on my suggestion.  Yes, Hannah still worries about her next paying gig. However, embracing dance in the face of uncertainty has given her a renewed sense of talent and accomplishment. And that has translated into a renewed confidence in her ability as a photographer.

Resist letting your fears overwhelm you.  Only then will you be able to see who you are and what you can and need to do to honor who you are.

Burst Out Laughing

Paul Smith happens to be one of my favorite men’s wear designers.  I like his shirts because they have small, whimsical details that set them apart without being gimmicky or obnoxiously trendy.

As much as I like his designs, I know little about him.  So, I was surprised and happy to see him profiled in the June issue of Vanity Fair.

The article ends with a great quote from him:

Every day of my life, I witness something that makes me burst out laughing.

I suspect this explains his eye for detail and the sense of fun he brings to his clothes, his brand, and his stores.

But it got me thinking. . .do I burst out laughing every day?  Hmm––not really as so often I’m too stressed to notice the humorous little details going on round me.

While I’m not prepared to resolve to laugh every day, I am resolved to pay more attention to the details of every day life.  I suspect if I do, I’ll pay less attention to what causes me stress!

What about you––what do you pay attention to?

"I Want To Get What I Want!"

Last week a couple met with me to explore communications coaching.  Cathy admitted that she didn’t feel a need for coaching (it was Jack’s idea to meet with me).  Everything’s good in how they talk—though at times, she said, she “might” be a bit too passive in their arguments—especially when he becomes “his usual pigheaded” self!  Hmm. . .

Jack readily admitted that he’s competitive and enjoys arguing even when he knows he’s wrong.  This is true even with Cathy.

I asked if she enjoyed arguing with him when he was in the “zone.”  She didn’t—she hated it.  But, she said it didn’t matter as she just shuts down and lets him have his way.

Jack jumped in, saying that he hated it when she shut down.  I asked if he heard why she shuts down.  Yes, but. . .

“Then why do you do it?” Cathy demanded.  “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.  “I don’t want to argue.  All I want is to get what I want,” Cathy matter-of-factly explained. 

“There, that’s the kind of attitude I don’t like.  I feel like she’s disrespecting me,” said Jack.  “She doesn’t take what I say seriously.  I explain things logically to her.  I give her the reasons why we need to do something a certain way and she ignores everything I say.”

“Is that true?” I asked.  “Do you ignore?  Do you intend to disrespect him?”

“I know what he’s going to say—I just don’t want to hear it.  I don’t want to know the reasons why I can’t have something when I feel I should have it.  The problem is he thinks with his head and I think with my heart.  He doesn’t respect me when he doesn’t listen to why I want something.”

Exasperated, Jack, tossed out, “she doesn’t have any reasons for anything.  All she has are just feelings.”

Let me freeze frame here—does any of this sound familiar?  I want to point out that Jack and Cathy were very polite in the way they spoke to each other—this wasn’t a shouting match.  However, they clearly felt frustrated.

So, let me try to distill an hour and a half conversation into some manageable thoughts. 

Studies show that the most successful relationships are the ones where the couple is similar enough that they comfortingly compliment each other and different enough that they invitingly challenge each other.

Now this is certainly true with this couple.  By dint of personality and profession (engineer) Jack values logic.  Cathy is a person, by dint of personality and profession (sales), who values feelings.  He spots specifics and she stares at the panorama.

He thinks logic is going to win the day because that is how logic is supposed to work.  However, as soon as she begins to feel that he’s clobbering her with facts, she shuts down.  “What’s the use?  He’s not interested in what I have to say” is her mantra.  And he becomes frustrated when he sees her give up.  He wants her to fight for her ideas.  He’s a competitor and that’s what competitors do!

They’ve created dance steps, patterns, rituals for arguing and those steps are now like the air they breathe.  They presume, “well, that’s just the way we are.”  Hmm––not exactly.

I asked Jack, “when you’re in an argument, do you notice that she’s becoming more passive?”  “Yes.”  “Then, why do you persist?”  “I want her to see it my way.”  “Does she ever come out of her passive state and say, ‘you’re right—I wasn’t thinking straight.’”  “No.”  “Never?  Then why do you persist?”

And I asked Cathy, “in an argument, what’s your goal?”  “To get what I want.”  “And how do you do that?”  “I plead and then when I get frustrated, I just ask, ‘what do I have to do to get X?”  “And do you ask in a pleasant tone of voice or do you have attitude?” 

Smiles all around.

“Do you pout; cross your arms, and make it sound like a demand if not an ultimatum?”  She actually looked shocked that I knew!

80% of what we respond to in a conversation is not what is said, but how it is said.  She tuned him out when he started to lecture.  He tuned her out when she started to pout.  No one likes a know-it-all and no one likes a whiner.

So, what to do?  It’s not possible to magically change personality.  Nor is there any reason to do so.

Choices can be made in how to communicate.

She needs to understand that “because it feels good” is not a reason that is going to advance her cause.  How do you respond to a “reason” like that?

He needs to understand that people don’t always make decisions based on what is most logical.  He needs to help her explore her feelings so as to help her understand what she is thinking.  And, she needs to help him explore his thoughts so as to help him understand what he’s feeling.

They each need to help the other understand what it is they individually want and explain why they want what they want.  Together, they need to want to find new ways of having conversations.

Life is seldom lived at the extremes—it’s lived in the messiness of the middle—and the middle is made up of both thoughts and feelings.

The Only Sure "Formula" For Growth

As I wrote in previous posts, change is difficult.  In fact, the #1 question I get from clients is: how can I change?  When asking that question, clients hope I have some clear-cut formula they can follow.

Well, there is no formula, but there is a process for change and it’s summed-up in five words:  determination, practice, messiness, reflection, repeat.

My client, Bob, wants to become more comfortable when speaking assertively.  His great challenge has been to resist the power of his debilitating fear of, “I don’t want to upset them.”

Recently, Bob had an unsettling encounter with a woman in HR.  He casually mentioned something he did in his personal life that led to his children being disappointed.  The woman went nuclear, accusing him of being an irresponsible parent.  She did this with co-workers looking on.

Without going into details, I can say that what Bob did was stupid, but it did not come close to being irresponsible. 

He went home upset––not with the HR woman, but with himself!  He questioned whether he was a good father.

Next day, he approached the woman, but she adamantly refused to speak with him.

A week went by and he went to her, insisting she hear him out.  He apologized for upsetting her and as he spoke, he noticed the anger was draining from her.

She revealed that her dog has brain cancer and she’s been on edge.  She’s single, has no children and the dog is her only companion.

Bob offered sympathy and told her if she ever needed to talk with someone, she could turn to him.  At the end of the conversation, he asked if he could give her a hug.  She said “no” and so they shook hands.

Bob works in a company that is beyond toxic.  He’s battered from various corners and his job is in jeopardy.  He’s made enemies by speaking truth to incompetence.  He’s striven mightily to learn how to assert himself in his dealings with co-workers who are lethal in their passive-aggressive tactics.

He came to me, though, feeling confused and frustrated.  He felt that he failed himself in his encounter with this woman.  I reassured Bob that he didn’t fail himself.  He did make some missteps––and that’s okay because there’s a lot that Bob did right:

1.     He didn’t engage her in the heat of the moment.  He extracted himself from her tirade.

2.     He didn’t let the incident slide.  He sought closure.

3.     He didn’t attack her and sought dialogue.

Bob had good instincts as he wanted to assertively, honestly deal with an unpleasant encounter.

Old habits, though, die hard.  And some of what he did was not in his best interest:

1.     He repeatedly told me that she had hurt his feelings.  Why?  This woman clearly was unhinged and behaved in an inappropriate way.  Why let her hurt him?

2.     He didn’t allow himself to feel anger.  Bob believes he needs to control his emotions; but, in doing that he ignores what he’s feeling.

3.     He questioned his own abilities as a dad.  In doing so, he gave power to this woman.  Why should a verbally abusive person have the right to assess his parenting skills?

4.     While his instincts were spot on in going to clear the air with her, he approached her from the position that he had done something wrong.  He apologized, but she did not.  She explained the situation with her dog, but did not take responsibility for her actions.

5.     Ending with a request for a hug is simply unprofessional.  Hugs are for our personal life with people we have a strong bond.

6.     Tony is a good person.  While his offer to listen to her laments about her dog touches me, again, it’s not to his advantage.  The company is toxic.  This woman has shown herself to be emotionally volatile.  He’s not paid to be her friend and there’s not been enough history for a friendship at this time.

So, what does this all mean?  Bob is engaged in the tough process of expanding his communication skills set. While there’s much in Bob’s personality that he can’t change, he can add to and enhance his skills.  And that’s what he’s been doing in his work with me.

Bob’s determined; he has fire in the belly.  He’s willing to practice techniques I suggest.  As a result, he’s experienced the messiness of learning. He makes mistakes; he’s tempted to throw in the towel.  But, he’s sticking with it.  In our coaching sessions, he reflects on what he’s doing.  This is key and it’s one of the advantages to having a coach.  Bob takes all this and with keener insight repeats the process.

I’m convinced that this is the only sure “formula” for growth.

Why We See What We See And Don't See What We Don't See

When I’m not offering workshops or coaching clients in communication skills, I’m officiating non-denominational wedding ceremonies.  I recently came across this posting by Liene Stevens on her blog, thinksplendid.com.  She covers trends in the wedding industry and here she’s talking about two of her favorite event designers:

I'm always amazed at how Beka Rendell and Kimberly Fink of Styled Creative see things. They can walk into any dilapidated venue and see it transformed into something magical. They can take a piece of what the rest of the world would consider garbage and turn it into art. They can take a handful of seemingly disconnected items and combine them into what becomes the next must-have trend. . .This skill transcends events and design.

We see what we look for. If you look for cynicism, you'll find a cold, hard, gloomy world where everyone is completely focused on themselves. If you look for the silver lining, you'll find a world of joy, creativity, generosity and simple pleasures.

. . .Looking for the good simply allows the bad to be viewed in the appropriate context: as a part, not the whole, and often as something that can be restored or given a second chance.

A few days after reading this post, I had a funny––and bizarre––experience that brought Stevens observations home for me.  

Last Christmas, I threw my first holiday party in my new home.  Two of my closest friends weren’t able to make it.  Norman lives in the South Pacific and Anthony lives in the Bay Area. 

Last Friday, Norman flew into town on his way to Rhode Island where he’s spending the summer.  I picked him up at LAX and by the time we got back to my place it was 11:30pm.  As I was pouring each of us a rum-n-coke the phone rang.  The caller i.d. indicated it was the building’s front door intercom. 

Since I wasn’t expecting anyone, I presumed the person hit the wrong button.  Moments later, the phone rang again.  Again, I ignored it.  Norman asked if I was going to answer.  “No, they’ll figure out what’s going on—now let’s toast the summer.”  Just then, the phone rings again.  I’m now officially annoyed.  My New York instincts kick into high gear and I refuse to answer.  This time, though, the person leaves a message.  He sounds drunk and says he’s “Roger” looking for Norman.  Ha-ha, isn’t that funny he’s looking for a “Norman”?

Norman blanches.  Flustered, he starts to confess that he’d reconnected with a college friend on Facebook and when he learned they would be in LA at the same time, he gave him my address.

“WHAT?!  Why did you do that?”  Phone rings.  Now I answer.  Yep, it’s Norman’s Roger.

It’s now after midnight and I tell Norman that this guy can’t stay long.  I’m beyond annoyed.  As we head to the lobby, Norman announces he’s heard from friends that Roger has a drinking “problem.”  NOOO! I’ve got a Friday night drunk on my hands.

I enter the lobby and there, standing outside the glass front doors, is Roger. . .long hair, goofy/drunk smile, holding a cake box and a “happy birthday” bag.  Ugh!  He’s just come from a birthday party and he wants to continue the party at my place!  I’m panicked as I frantically think of how I can get rid of this guy.

As I open the door, Roger grins and says, “Hi!  How ya doin?”  My smile is forced.  I can’t see Norman and am annoyed he’s not stepping in.  Roger just stands there, smiles and again says “hi.”  Stupid drunk!  I lamely smile.  “How ya doin’?”

And then Norman grabs my arm and yells—it’s Anthony!  Huh?

Turns out, “Roger” was my friend Anthony––and I didn’t recognize him!  He’d made no effort to disguise himself.  I hadn’t seen him in a year; he had longer hair, and a scruffy look, BUT I didn’t recognize him and I’ve known him for half my life!!!!!!

The two of them had hatched this scheme to surprise me, though, neither imagined that I wouldn’t recognize Anthony.  The ultimate surprise was on them!

I’m still stunned as I write this, AND I’m unnerved as during these past days I’ve reflected on––what do we really see of reality?  Why do we see what we see and don’t see what we don’t see?

I wasn’t expecting Tony.  I was looking for “Roger.”  When I spoke to “Roger” on the phone, he sounded German and drunk.  So, in an agitated state, I went to the entry door looking for a drunk, European.  And that’s what I saw!

Yes, I was tired and, no, I hadn’t been drinking (Norman and I had just toasted when the phone rang).  BUT, I saw what I wanted to see.  And I’ve been thinking about this ever since.

What else distorts my vision of “reality”?  What distorts your vision of reality?!  As Liene Stevens wrote: we see what we look for. . .

I’ll be coming back to this story in future posts!

The Legend Of "Big Sue"

Years ago I taught high school on the remote Pacific Island of Chuuk.  At the beginning of my second year, a new science teacher arrived.  Sue had a cute smile, a sharp wit, and she was 6 feet, 350 lbs.  She came from Los Angeles.  In a town of starlets and models, she couldn’t get a guy to give her the time of day.  Disgusted with men, she decided to go far from the maddening crowd.

Chuukians prize big women.  The heavier a woman, the more beautiful she is thought to be.  Within 48 hours of her arrival, word spread that “Venus” had landed.  Sue had “suitors” from all over the island.  She was pinched while walking through the village; men serenaded her at night. 

She endured three months of this passionate attention, and then practically ran back to Los Angeles.

In LA Sue felt ugly.  She gave up on finding love; she gave up on her self.  She fled so as not to have to see the competition.  Once on Chuuk, though, she became the “competition.”  Still, she was not happy.  For her there was only one standard of beauty—the LA standard—and she didn’t match up.

From pre-school through to that business meeting you had last week, each of us is constantly comparing ourselves to others.  Are we smarter, wealthier, more clever than__?  Consciously and unconsciously, we engage in this game of comparing—convincing ourselves that “the other” is the true and only standard of what and how we “should” be.

In working with clients, the refrain I often hear is:  “I’m not as confident as___”  “I’m not as experienced as___”  “I’m not as outgoing as___.”

The question is:  against whom are you comparing yourself?  How fair is it to compare yourself against that person(s)?

While these comparisons might give you some sense of what and who you are “not,” do they really give you a fair  sense of who you are?

What would happen if you did genuinely recognize and respect you?  Consider these questions:

• in the past 3 months what are 3 accomplishments of which you feel proud? 
• what do these accomplishments tell you about who you are?
• is there a personality trait(s) that runs through each of these accomplishments?
• how comfortable are you in recognizing and respecting who you are?

Comparisons are inevitable—it’s just part of being human—BUT, do these comparisons give you a true and healthy sense of who you are and of what you have accomplished, OR, do these comparisons allow you to wallow in a sense of helplessness?