Sunday, October 27, 2013

Memories Of Halloween Past


 
When I was growing-up in the Bronx, my mother wouldn’t allow my brother and me to go trick-or-treating.  She claimed it was begging and if we wanted candy, we should ask her.  And, no, we didn’t open the door to trick-or-treaters as they were considered beggars!  Over the years, I’ve always had ambivalent feelings about all the Halloween hoopla.  My favorite Halloween memories, though, are of the times I spent with my godson, Finn.  Yes, this is another Finn-inspired posting!

When he was three years old I took him to a party goods store the eve of Halloween.  It had a great candy aisle, but to get to the aisle we had to pass by a mechanical scarecrow that made weird, jerky movements.  Finn called it a “scary” and was petrified.  So I hefted him into my arms, had him close his eyes and then I stood in front of the “scary” telling him that if he ever tried to hurt Finn I’d beat him up.  Reassured, Finn jumped from my arms and ran down the aisle.  It did wonders for my ego!

A few years later, it was the week before Halloween and I picked him up from school.  As we were walking to my car, he let go of my hand and ran up to a kid who was half-a-block away.  Finn grabbed him from behind in a bear hug.  The two started laughing.  I was baffled.  When I asked why he’d “attack” the poor kid, Finn matter-of-factly told me that he tries to hug a different person each day.

We then headed off to a pumpkin patch where he found a medium-sized pumpkin that was too big for him to lift – or so I thought.  He insisted on carrying it to the cashier at the front of the lot.  It was quite a haul for him with a lot of grunting and a lot of dropping of the pumpkin, but he got it to the clerk.

Straw fears, generous hugs, challenging feats of determination – this is what I now think of when Halloween rolls around.  Okay, and also how weird it was not to go trick-or-treating as a kid!

Finn’s twelve now and so store displays don’t scare him, hugs are at a premium and he’d rather play an App game than lug a pumpkin.  That’s how it should be – we grow, we progress through the stages of life.

Still, though, I cherish those memories as I struggle with my resolutions to not let paper-thin fears paralyze me, to be generous with my affection and to challenge myself to do what seems not doable.  Why?  Well, really isn’t that the surest way to find and seize life’s treats?

Monday, October 21, 2013

A Constipation Story - Really!



Last week, a client shared that he’s afraid of what people will think if he says something stupid.  I told him the following story, but be warned, as it is an oddball tale!

My mother, who didn’t graduate high school, “covered” her insecurities with designer clothes and spoke with an air of authority, even when she didn’t know what she was talking about.

We lived in a Bronx apartment and when I was seven my parents bought a summerhouse in a town along the Jersey shore.  It was a new development and it was a simple house –– linoleum tiles atop a concrete slab floor, shingled exterior walls with jalousie windows.  White with a pink trim it was my mother’s longed-for dollhouse.

A problem soon appeared –– we had a mysterious leak.  We had no idea why, every morning, moisture was on the tiles. A plumber came and announced that the moisture was “condensation.” 

This was a new word for my mother and she was annoyed as all she wanted was to put down wall-to-wall carpeting (yes, in a beach house).  This condensation “thing” had to be fixed.

Soon after, the O’Connell’s bought the house next door.  My mother usually kept to herself, but decided to introduce herself –– that’s what neighbors are supposed to do, yes?

Mary and Jim O’Connell were a middle-aged couple from Massachusetts.  When my mother learned that they bought the house as income property she did something she never did––she asked for help. 

She told Jim that this was her first house and since he knew houses maybe he could help explain something.  She said: “We thought we had a leak, but the plumber said we had constipation.  It’s awful. We live in an apartment and don’t have this kind of problem, but since you live in a house, perhaps you’ve had constipation?”
Open-mouthed, Jim stared at my mother.  My father was rolling on the ground, but my mother didn’t notice and continued, “We wake up in the morning and constipation is everywhere.  We don’t know what to do.  What do you suggest?”

Suddenly, Jim figured it out and asked if she meant “condensation.”  She claimed that’s what she said but we all assured her that she hadn’t.  For a brief moment, she looked embarrassed and then started laughing.  Undeterred, she asked Jim if he could help with that “new word.”

Yes, my mother was vain and concerned what people thought of her.  But, yes, she could admit a mistake and laugh at herself.  It was a great gift and a lesson I shared with my client who is worried about what people will think of him.

What about you?  Can you laugh at your ‘constipation’?!

Friday, October 11, 2013

Magic Mountain, Public Speaking and Other Scary Things


I’m afraid of heights and especially hate roller coasters.  So, of course, what did my godson Finn want for his birthday?  He wanted me to take him to Magic Mountain!  Last week I made good on my promise.

I told Finn he could pick the rides we went on.  When I got strapped into a ride I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.  I was determined to keep my fear in check, but when the ride rocketed, I just screamed my head off.  

After each ride I felt like vomiting, yet I also felt satisfied.  I hadn’t let fear win out.   More than rollercoasters, I hate being afraid.  I don’t want to be controlled by fear.  

This summer I taught a course at UCLA Extension on “breaking through” the fear of public speaking.  Of all the communication skills I teach, public speaking is my favorite. I think it’s because I was painfully shy in high school. 

I headed off to college determined to vanquish my shyness.  Intuitively, I knew my shyness went deeper than not wanting to speak.  It was about my fear of people.  I didn’t think people would like me, that they’d find me boring and judge me.  

I joined the college’s radio station and landed my own interview show.  Quickly, I learned how to talk to people.  It was simple – all I had to do was show them that I was interested in what they had to say!  And in turn, they showed an interest in me.  My skill and my confidence soared.

While I’ve not discovered a “secret” formula for overcoming fear, what I have learned is that fear is fueled by clinging to a lie - a lie that seems so true that to deny it seems to be a lie in itself.

I see this in many of the people I coach.  Kathryn, who is from Hungary, was one of the students in this summer’s Extension class.  She sat cross-armed, scowling through the first half of the course.  Eventually, her arms opened and she smiled.  

For her first presentation, she told an odd story that had the class laughing.  Yes, she was obviously nervous, but that energy didn’t derail her tale. The class gave her honest, encouraging feedback.  Her accent didn’t distract them; her nerves didn’t distract them.  She surprised them and they wanted more from her.  

When I asked if she believed the feedback, she said she didn’t because she knew the presentation wasn’t very good and that she’s not a good speaker.  She smiled saying this!

She clutched this lie because she was too comfortable believing it.

How can a person stop believing a crippling lie?  Here’s some of what I wrote in an email to Kathryn.

“We only grow by building on our strengths.  In order to build on those strengths, we have to know what they are AND we have to know why we have those strengths.  If we don’t understand what we’re good at, then we can’t grow. 

Oftentimes people resist taking a hard look at their strengths because it’s more comfortable believing that we suck at something.  Being helpless can be consoling in an odd sort of way.  I think, Kathryn, that you’re so used to beating up on yourself that it just seems ‘natural.’  I think you have a hard time accepting compliments because you don’t see much point in dwelling on what you do well. 

Well, no one ever becomes great at something by focusing solely and intently on mistakes.  It doesn’t work that way.

You gave a presentation, without being glued to notes, in a way that connected with an international audience.  You made people laugh.  That’s a significant accomplishment.  If you choose to downplay the importance of what you did, then you’re sabotaging yourself.

You need to understand what you do well, what you don’t, and why.  I think you only want to understand what doesn’t work and you want to ignore what does work.

You have to believe you’re worthy of people’s attention.  If you don’t believe you have anything worthwhile to say then that will come across and people will tune you out.

It’s really up to you: are you going to own your strengths and work on your weaknesses OR are you going to continue to dismiss any progress you’ve made and focus solely on your belief that you will always be a lousy speaker? 

Only you, Kathryn, can choose your attitude!”

Kathryn is not an isolated case of someone refusing to acknowledge progress towards a goal.  Odd as it sounds, it takes courage to recognize growth.  True confidence means owning one’s strengths and acknowledging one’s weaknesses – and using both to reach a goal.

What about you – what comfortable lie are you clinging to?!

Tuesday, October 08, 2013

Why I Silence Your Call, Even When I'm Free


Illustration by Melinda Josie
 This opinion piece, written by Caeli Wolfson Widger, appeared last week in The New York Times.  It struck a nerve with me for two reasons.

First, several of my friends are now opting for texting over speaking – and I’m annoyed!  Second, in my consulting I’ve noticed a new and recurrent frustration shared by many professionals – colleagues are trying to sort through messy issues via text rather than a phone or in-person conversation.

Windger offers an honest and surprising insight on this trend. 

What about you – are you opting out of talking?!






My cousin Stacey in San Francisco called recently. We hadn’t spoken since she visited me the previous month, and I missed her. I was sitting in my office, catching up on e-mail while refreshing my Twitter feed every few minutes. Hardly too busy for a chat.





And yet, I watched the call come in without touching my phone. I didn’t listen to the voice mail she left either but fired off a text instead, apologizing for being too busy to talk and proposing that we plan a call for the next day.



Why the lie? I had time to talk. I had the privacy and quietude I rarely have at my home full of little children and happy chaos. Some of my best conversations of all time have been with Stacey. But my reflex was to avoid her call.



These days, I hardly ever pick up. Most of my daily phone-based exchanges are conducted via text and messaging on social-media platforms. With those, I’m rapid-fire on the turnaround. Every ping signaling a text or swoosh alerting me to a Twitter direct message feels like a tiny gift in waiting. The trill of an unexpected incoming call, on the other hand, feels like a potential demand on my time and attention.



Stacey’s call probably would have fallen into this category. She was going through a difficult time. Her five-year relationship with her boyfriend was falling apart, and she was laid off 18 months earlier. While she couldn’t bear to live another second with her almost-ex, she also couldn’t afford to venture out into the exorbitant San Francisco housing market on her own.



Stacey hadn’t responded to my text, but I wasn’t worried. We would catch up. We always did.



A week later. . .CONTINUE READING