Friday, February 28, 2014

"I Have No Opinion"



Ken, a client of mine, told me that he had great confidence in high school and even was on the debate team.  With the passing of the years, though, he’s lost confidence in himself.  He tries to be so agreeable he doesn’t know what he thinks any more and desperately wants to regain his confidence.

Sadly, I don’t think Ken’s unique.  Despite the endless barrage of tweets, texts, postings and comments that rain down on us daily, many people lack a genuine conviction of their own thoughts.  They remain mute or simply smile and mindlessly agree with others’ opinions.

Ken claims he has no personal opinions because he doesn’t want to hurt people’s feelings.  His reflex is to smile, nod his head and say, “yes,” “good” or “I agree,” all the while not reflecting on whether he believes or doesn’t believe the truth of what they’re saying. 

There are people who convince themselves that the most important thing in life is to be liked and approved by EVERYONE – yes, everyone – they encounter.  And so these people will do whatever it takes to get people to like them.

Do you work with a “yes” person?  The person who says, “yes” to every request and then fails to deliver on what was promised?  In most cases, that person is saying “yes” not because they’re a jerk but rather because they’re afraid of disappointing you in the moment.  And even more, they want you to like and respect them – deeply and truly.

Ken doesn’t understand that genuine like and respect go deeper than merely agreeing with someone.

Amy Adams recently talked about Philip Seymour Hoffman with whom she worked on two films.  She said that, “he had this unique ability to see people. To really see them. Not look through them. He just really saw people.”  When you really “see” a person, you see the good, the bad and the ugly and in that seeing you respect them by engaging them in ways in which you agree, disagree, encourage and challenge.  That’s the inherent risk of truly encountering another human being.  That’s true respect.

I think Ken is afraid that if people really “see” him they won’t like or respect him.  Maybe that will happen – with some people some of the time.  But without the risk of seeing and being seen, there can be no real relationship.

Ken has yet to take that risk.  He has yet to give himself permission to say “I think,” “I feel,” “I believe,” “I want,” or “I need.”  He has yet to truly see himself. 

He wants to and I’m choosing to believe that in time he will.

What about you – do you really see people?  Really see yourself?

Friday, February 21, 2014

Trust – Such An Old-Fashioned Concept



Last week I met with Carol Roleder, an event planner who specializes in funerals and memorials.  She loves helping people plan the memorial of a loved one and the reception that follows not because she’s creepy, but because she loves family.  And a memorial is as much a time to celebrate family as is a wedding, a mitzvah or a baptism.

She told me that from the time she was a little girl she knew she wanted to be a mother.  Married with four children, she loves everything about being a mother and a wife.  She loves talking about family with newly weds and tells parents that the most important thing they can teach their children is to trust them.  For Carol, trust is the most important gift you can give your child.

When Carol told me that “trust” is at the heart of her family, I squirmed as trust was not a prized virtue in my family.  Everything was conditional, including love, and so the “trick” was to not get caught.  If you told the truth you could get into trouble; if you lied you could get into trouble.  And so you had to strategize on how not to get into trouble!  As an adult, I had to learn how to value trust and how to make it a cornerstone of my life – personal and professional. 

Carol told me that trust is at the heart of what she does as an event planner.  In a time of grief, a time of confusion, people entrust her with the celebration of their loved one – the celebration of their family.  What greater trust is there?

The first funeral home that trusted her, Cabot in Pasadena, told her that they were willing to give her just one chance to prove that she deserved their trust.  They gave her that opportunity because she presented herself as trustworthy. How did she manage that? 

They said she didn’t come across as an ambulance chaser; that her passion and care came through not only in what she said, but also in how she said it.  There was a look in her eye and a tremble in her voice that made them believe she was “real.”

In a world of slick commercial promises and in a world filled with folks who over-promise and under-deliver, isn’t it refreshing when you find someone whose trust is reliable?  Someone who responds to calls and emails promptly, supplies useful information and goes beyond what is merely required.  Someone who looks you in the eye and searches for what you really need, for what you’re really saying.

What about you – is trust one of the words people would readily use to describe you?

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Love In The Midst Of Fear – A Valentine's Day Thought


In honor of Valentine’s Day, I’m inspired by something that Vivian, a follower of this blog, recently shared with me. . .
“Four years ago my husband Jake was terminated from his job at the age of 59. As you can imagine, he experienced depression and a loss of identity.  Because he had two open-heart surgeries in the previous ten years, he didn’t have it in him to begin a new corporate career.  He prayed for direction, asking to be shown a way.  Originally he came to LA to be a comedy writer.  Through a series of events, he now has his work on GoComics.com.  He receives mail from many who thank him for the smiles, saying his cartoons helped them through chemo and other difficult life events. The inspiring thing about my husband’s journey that motivates me is that life is full of opportunities, often unknown, and that every day is a new beginning - perhaps the opportunity to reinvent oneself, to dare to try something we always dreamed about.”

I think Vivian’s tribute to Jake is what Valentine’s Day is all about – without the mush!  Vivian’s admiration of Jake is grounded in thanks and hope and she reminds me that there is no gratitude without hope. 

To give thanks for what we can see also acknowledges that there is more to come because “every day is a new beginning.”  However, I think it’s easier to say, “I’m thankful” than it is to say, “I’m hopeful.”  That’s because real hope is always big and it requires that we have a generous attitude looking to the future.  And that takes courage.  Vivian and Jake, each and together, are courageous people.

I’m challenged by Vivian’s story because I don’t think I’m a hopeful person.  I think  “to hope” can seem like it’s leaving things up to chance and I don’t want to take a chance on chance because I’m never lucky!

And I don’t think I’m really a grateful person because I’m never satisfied.  I keep pushing myself without pausing to take stock of what I’ve accomplished and what has been given me. 

So what to do?  Live from cautious hope?  Live with meager thanks?  That simply won’t do. I think we’re asked to do what Jake and Vivian did. Vivian loved her husband by bearing witness to his pain and struggle.  And in Vivian’s unwavering gaze, Jake was able to remember what he’d forgotten – his love of humor. 

A wise woman once observed that real love is a reassuring whisper in the dark of night.  And so, somehow, in that mixture of faith and hope, fear and love, together they were able to strive to create anew their life – present and future – despite the sirens of the unknown. 

That is the truest love of Valentine’s Day!

Saturday, February 08, 2014

12 Most Enduring Life Lessons I Learned While Unplugging On A South Pacific Island




When I was seven years old I spent four months in the hospital for a heart condition. I got through the ordeal, in part, because an old, reclusive neighbor dropped off three shopping bags of National Geographic magazines. I devoured stories of exotic locales and vowed that someday I’d have my own Nat Geo experience.

In my senior year of college I was offered the opportunity to teach at Xavier High School on the Pacific island of Weno in the Truk (Chuuk) Lagoon (part of the Federated States of Micronesia). I was fortunate to have lived there when life was still unplugged and a trusty portable typewriter was my “tablet.” Today, my home office is a veritable Apple outlet, but the three years I lived in Truk was life changing.

Here are the 12 most enduring lessons I learned from that adventure and that guided my life ever since.

1. Be in the moment
Imagine being in a meeting with colleagues and no one looks down at a smartphone. The ability to focus on what is happening in the present is startling.

2. Offer only your best to others
Whenever I visited, people welcomed me by sharing freely — food, beverage and laughter. By the time I left to return to the States, TV had arrived in the islands. On my last night, I visited the home of my student Salvelo. His family had one of the first TV sets. It was sitting atop a table at the far end of the main room. Everyone was stretched out on mats watching. Salvelo’s mother gave me her mat so I’d have the best view. It was one of the most surreal moments in my life. Yet, typical of true hospitality — unhesitating giving.

3. Story begets story
Because there was no TV at the school, we entertained ourselves. At night, I’d go to the back of campus where students would light a fire, lop off some coconuts and we’d sit around telling stories. My grandmother had been a prison guard in NYC for thirty-five years, so I could match any of their shark attack yarns!

4. All people share three things in common
GiGi, a Filipina who left home for political reasons and who was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, had a personal story of love, pain and loss that was poignant and harrowing. She once told me that every person loves someone, has lost someone or something precious and is afraid of something. Wonderfully dramatic, but I’ve yet to meet the person for whom this isn’t true.

5. You can’t run away from pain
Sue volunteered to teach in the Science Department because she was fed-up with life in Los Angeles where men ignored all 375-pounds of her. What she didn’t know is that in Truk, big women are considered beautiful. Sue lasted three months, as she couldn’t handle the lavish attention. She returned to LA without having made peace with herself.

6. Carpe Diem
When the job was offered to me, I had no idea where I was going. And that’s what I loved — the adventure of it all. My comfort zone was shattered. Being uncomfortable allowed the world to never be the same for me. Seize the day — and not just a day-planner app!

7. There’s more to life than meets the eye
My first night at the school the generator was turned off at 10:00 p.m. and the campus was dropped into an inky black, unnerving silence. Norman and Taka, two of the teachers, took me up to the roof where I became dizzy from what I saw. As a boy from the Bronx, no one ever explained how the night sky is exploding with stars. And every day for the next three years I learned that there is just so much more to the world than I could ever take in.

8. The pen is mightier than the text
Marshall McLuhan famously claimed, “The message is the medium.” But it’s equally true that the medium dictates the message. Having no laptop, I could only write letters. With pen in hand, I reflect and compose differently from when I’m dashing off an email or a scrunched text. Being a multi-tech user allows me to experience a variety of thinking.

9. Grit has no expiration date
Francoise was a seventy-five-year-old “broad” who wanted an adventure. And so she replaced Sue as head of the Science Department. She was game for anything — including a role in my production of Agatha Christie’s “Ten Little Indians.” She was the first character to be bumped-off and she died with aplomb. Generosity of spirit is ageless.

10. Resourcefulness animates learning
I was assigned to teach literature, but was given no syllabus and few textbooks. Since I’d never taken an education course in college, I simply recalled all the teachers who I didn’t like and then did the opposite. I trusted my imagination, created a curriculum, made a ton of mistakes and along the way educated my students to appreciate the power of the written word. The power of their imaginations. The power that comes from thinking.

11. Manhattan is not the center of the universe
For all my enthusiasm and goodwill, I really wasn’t aware of the breadth of cross-cultural differences I’d encounter. “Be you” translates differently in a communal-based culture that puts a premium on “we” as opposed to the fast-talking, every person for him/herself world of NYC. I had to learn how to be a guest — and to see the world from a different perspective.

12. We are who we believe ourselves to be
I taught poetry to the frosh. At end of term, I put together a collection of their work and called it, “AH!” That summer, an Australian anthropologist stayed with the family of Bellarmine, one of my students. On her first night with them, Belarmine asked the anthropologist, “Would you like me to read some poems I’ve written. I’m a poet.” She was amused that he called himself a “poet.” Months later, she told me that her evening with “Bellarmine the poet” was pure magic. And so it is that we become who we say we are.

Although this journey took place years ago, the gifts of that unplugged life anchor me today in my oh-so-plugged-in world. The enduring gift of Truk is simply this: it is the quality of our daily life that matters most. With or without technology, each of us is the creator of that quality.