What A 4 Year Old Girl Taught Me About Communicating

Clare’s the owner of a sportswear design firm.  In her late twenties, she’s bright, driven, has accomplished much, and yet she doubts herself.  That’s why she hired Madge as her assistant.  Madge has been in the biz for almost thirty years and knows all the players. 

As it turns out, Madge sees Clare as inexperienced and privileged (she told her so to her face).  Madge jabs at Clare’s insecurities with surgical precision.

Clare believes she can’t run the business without this woman’s know-how and is afraid to upset Madge––what if she quits?

Whenever Clare has tried to speak with Madge so as to make needed adjustments in their relationship, Madge inevitably breaks down and cries.  Clare panics and caves in.

Knowingly and unknowingly, we give people permission to treat us in certain ways.  Over time those ways become a routine.  If we don’t like the way a person is treating us, then it’s our responsibility to “re-train” them. 

Although Madge is in her fifties, she reminds me of my niece Gracie when she was four years old.  I adore Gracie––she’s bright, beautiful and what I call a “phony-baloney.” 

At four, Gracie knew how to flash that cute smile of hers so as to get what she wanted.  On one visit, her mother had an emergency and asked if I could watch Gracie. 

As soon as her mom left, Gracie asked me for ice cream.  Usually I was a sucker for this kind of request, but her mother had given me strict orders—no sweets!  And so I said “no.”

Gracie pleaded until she finally burst into tears that looked a tad “rehearsed!”  The girl wouldn’t stop, blackmailing me with, “if you loved me…” 

Her crying was killing me.  And so, I lifted her up, carried her out to the deck and gently put her down.  With a big smile and gentle tone, I said, “Gracie, I love you, but your crying is driving me bonkers.  So, I’m going to let you cry out here and when you’re done, just come back inside.  Okay?”

She looked at me like I was nuts!  I went back into the house and within moments, Gracie ran inside.  She was laughing and wanted to watch a video.  Not a peep about ice cream.

What happened?  I did something she wasn’t expecting and hadn’t prepared for.  I changed the dance step.  I retrained her.

Clare needed to treat Madge like a four-year old.  I urged Clare to say something along these lines when Madge next cried: “Madge, clearly you’re upset.  I know you want what’s best for the company and me as I do for you.  This conversation is important to both of us, so why don’t you take some time to compose yourself and we can talk later.”

When Clare tried out this new script, Madge resisted as the tears kept pouring.  Clare repeated the script three times before Madge stopped crying.  She became Gracie!  Later that same day they had a conversation without the special effects of tears.  

Is everything “fine” with Clare and Madge?  No.  However, they’re now having conversations that they didn’t have before.  Madge is learning that her old ploys no longer work.

We train people how to treat us.  Is there someone in your life who needs retraining?

Why Be Miserable?

Be miserable. Or motivate yourself. Whatever has to be done, it’s always your choice.

Wayne Dyer

I bought a condo three years ago this month and I still feel like I’m moving in.  It feels so new, even though the building is thirty years old.

Although there are fewer than forty units in the building, I’ve not yet met all my neighbors.  Just last week I got into a conversation at the mailbox with Moira, an elderly resident, who’s been here since the building opened.  She raised her family here.

Moira told me that she and her husband grew up in the mid-West and came to Los Angeles soon after they got married.  She wanted a house; he didn’t.  He insisted they live in a condo and so they were one of the first to buy in this building.

She told me this story with disgust in her voice but when she was done, Moira asked almost boastfully: I’ve been miserable all these thirty years––can you believe that?

I laughed and assured her that I do believe her––she never met my grandmother who was miserable for most of her ninety-eight years!  It’s so easy to be miserable and in its own way is such a delicious feeling. 

I recently posted the story of a CVS pharmacy clerk who role-modeled a powerful person.  Well, power always comes when you avoid casting blame on some one or some thing for feeling bad about your life. 

The truth is that people and events only have as much power as we give to them.  You control your thinking as well as your actions stemming from that thinking.  And that’s power!

As I left my neighbor I found myself feeling sorry for her––not because she had led a miserable life, but rather because she had surrendered her power to a condo.

What about you?  Are you miserable?!  Why?  Is it really because of someone else?  In what ways can you choose power?

What Makes A Person Boring

Boredom occurs when you fail to make the other person interesting

Warren Bennis

For over twenty years I’ve had the privilege of helping people find their voice––helping people learn to communicate in smart, healthy ways.  I’ve coached hundreds of men and women from their teens through to their seventies.  I’ve worked with people involved in multitudinous works, across the globe.  I haven’t seen it all, but I have seen a lot.

While I know that I’ve had an impact on many people’s personal and professional lives, I also know that I’ve not been able to help everyone who has sought me out.  In fact, there are probably just as many people I haven’t been able to help, as there are whom I have been able to help.

Part of the reason is that I simply can’t be all things to all people.  Not every teacher or doctor or lawyer is the right fit for every potential client.  And so I’ve had to learn my limitations and over time, I’ve learned to be more intuitive, more honest, and more strategic in accepting clients.

Acknowledging all this, though, during the past eighteen months I’ve especially grappled with the question: why are some people able to acquire a large repertoire of communication and interpersonal skills and others seem not able to expand their skill set?

I wrestle with this question in part out of curiosity, in part out of pride (why can’t I “fix” everyone) and in part, large part, because I’m genuinely baffled.  What is the difference between people who are successful in relationships and people who are at best stilted and at worst alienating in their relationships?

Well, I think I’ve come to an answer and what I now believe is that the difference rests with whether a person is interested in and likes people or is disinterested and insulated emotionally and intellectually from people.

I’m amazed at how many people I encounter who just seem to be not curious about people.  They’re not interested in other people’s stories, in what makes them tick, or in how they share similar fates.  Recently, I had a client who is a psychologist and who came to me because she doesn’t like talking with people!  She’ll give them her attention and skill for the fifty minutes she’s being paid and then she wants them gone.

I now realize that if you don’t like people you’re not going to know how to learn to communicate in ways that are smart, strategic, and healthy.  Skill is only rooted in interest.

Of course, the next question is: is it possible to teach someone how to be interested in people?  Hmm. I’ll have to get back to you on that. . .

Jumping From A Bridge

Yesterday was the first day of the second half of 2012.  Yes, the year is now half completed.  I’m taking some time to assess how I’ve used the year so far and to decide how I want to use the rest of the year.

I’ve done things this year that I’ve never done before––I’ve published my first book and I’ve signed up to be a weekly columnist for a local newspaper.  I’ve allowed myself to pursue what I’ve wanted my entire adult life––writing.

This year I’ve allowed myself the courage to embrace the possibility of failing in new ways and I’ve experienced a satisfaction I’ve never had before.

The following is an excerpt from a posting on the website http://pickthebrain.com by Scott MacIntyre.  He made it into American Idol’s Top Ten a few seasons ago.  I read this early on in the year and his words tucked themselves in the back of my head.

I’m going to allow myself to be challenged with new risks for failing and am looking forward to experiencing even newer satisfactions in the second half of 2012.

What about you?  What “bridge” are you going to dare yourself to jump from?  Like Scott, I can only believe that the water will be both cold and invigorating!

The Leap of Faith: Why Taking Risks Can Be Worth It

Written by ScottMacIntyre –

Perhaps the biggest fear for many of us is a fear of failure. But if we never try, how will we know the outcome?  So many people worry about what will happen if they fail, that they lose sight of what could happen if they succeed.

When I was a little kid, my family would take a yearly road trip to a rustic getaway called Trinity Alps Resort in northern California.  We stayed in old wooden cabins, grilled freshly-caught fish, and swam in a swimming hole along the river.  There was a walking bridge that extended across the swimming hole, and older kids would jump off of it into the water below. One summer, I was determined to try the jump. 

I asked my dad if he would do the jump with me, and he agreed.  There was no way for me to see how high up we were – I was born blind.  All I could do was step off the bridge, trusting that I would land in the water and not on a rock.

My dad counted to three, and we jumped together.  The feeling of free-falling through the air was incredible.  As soon as I surfaced and caught my breath, I asked my dad if we could do it again.

In the same way that I was uncertain about jumping into a river I couldn’t see, I was uncertain about how to be successful as a blind person in the very visual entertainment industry.  Every step off of the metaphorical bridge stretching across my career was a chance to fail – but also a chance to succeed.  And although at times I did fail, with every success came more confidence to face the next challenge, and the next after that.

As the first-ever blind contestant on American Idol, one of the hardest things for me to do was to give a convincing performance in the group songs on elimination nights.  I could have decided to make it easier on myself and sit those numbers out, but I wanted to participate just like every other contestant. 

Because I took that risk, Idol producers and millions of viewers around the world were inspired to re-think what a blind person is capable of doing.

I have to wonder though – would I have chosen to audition for Idol in the first place if I hadn’t decided to jump off the bridge in Trinity Alps?  Fear is fear, and the way in which I dealt with my ordinary fears was the same way I tackled extraordinary challenges.  In the end, we all have a choice: to let fear of what might happen keep us from reaching our goals and dreams, or to take a leap of faith into the unknown and learn as we go. 

People who achieve their dreams are people who are not afraid to take risks.  And we will never know what we could have accomplished if we never put ourselves to the test.

http://macintyrebook.com/

The Therapeutic Value Of A Latte

I’m a Starbucks kind of guy.  Although I don’t drink coffee, I do enjoy a latte and my favorite is made by Starbucks.  Now, I know that many of you might disagree and argue for Peets or Coffee Bean or some local haunt.  My taste loyalties, though, are with Starbucks.

Not that my preferences mean much for the purposes of this post; however, I was intrigued when I recently learned that Starbucks instructs its associates to treat customer complaints with the “latte” rule:

Listen to the customer
Acknowledge the problem
Take action to resolve the problem
Thank the customer for bringing it to your attention
Encourage them to return

This guiding rule is so basic.  So simple.  So humane.  So smart.  Yet, far too many places of business don’t have a policy for dealing with customer complaints and don’t have the right instincts for handling those complaints.

Years ago, the Sociology and Anthropology Departments of Harvard University did a joint study researching graffiti.  The project’s goal was to determine if there is a common theme among worldwide graffiti artists.  And what they found is that there is!

The common theme of all graffiti can be summed up in the phrase, “I am here.”  Graffiti artists are seeking not simply attention; they’re seeking acknowledgment of their existence.  And this is what we all hunger for––recognition.

A disgruntled customer can be angry for many reasons, but they all can be reduced to the fact that the person feels no one is paying attention to their needs.  They think (rightly or wrongly) that they’re being disrespected and ignored.

Offering a “latte” is the most reassuring thing we can give to an upset customer because it reassures them that someone does “see” them.

In fact, a “latte” can be offered to anyone who feels ignored by you––a co-worker, friend, relative, partner.  To listen, acknowledge, act, show appreciation, and make normal the relationship are the five keys to dealing with someone in a difficult conversation. 

More times than not, a “latte” goes a long way to healing a potentially ugly situation because the other person feels valued and they feel valued because the person offering the latte is taking responsibility and being dynamically pro-active.

I’m tempted to end with some cute latte joke, but I won’t embarrass myself!  Suffice to say, next time you’re dealing with a complaining customer, no matter what your business, just remember to offer them a “latte!”

The Power Of A Drug Store Clerk

In a recent workshop on leadership, I asked the participants to identify someone who they think is a powerful person.  I then asked them to consider if that person’s power is unique to them or is it of a nature that any of us can acquire.

Of course, names of the usual suspects popped up, i.e. Gates, Jobs, Clinton (both), parents, teachers, et.al.  But then Elizabeth, a woman who can claim a measure of power in her own right as she’s a partner in five influential restaurants here in SoCal, offered that she recently encountered a powerful woman in a CVS drug store––a matronly clerk at the cash register!  It was the only open register and there was a line of five people ahead of Elizabeth.  Throughout, the clerk remained not only calm and efficient, but also cheerful, answering questions (the usual inane kind that people ask when there’s a line) and being friendly even as customers fumbled for cash or credit cards.

Marveling at her composure, Elizabeth complimented the woman and asked her how she did it.  The woman seemed surprised but laughed and said, “what else can I do?  Yell?  What good would that do?”

As Elizabeth said to the class, “Now that was power!”

That clerk will never rise to the ranks of CEO of CVS, but indeed she is a woman of power.  Why?  Well, there are various attributes to being a powerful person and one of them is this: a powerful person is not a victim.

Playing the role of victim doesn’t give you genuine power.  It might give you attention, but not respect––from yourself and others.  The simple truth is that each one of us is responsible for what we are doing, having, being, and feeling.

This clerk easily could have played the victim and vented her frustration with management on hapless customers.  Instead, she took charge of the situation and decided how she wanted to handle things.  She was neither insulted nor intimidated by impatient customers.  She chose to be gracious, personable, and as efficient as her resources allowed her to be.

Elizabeth told us that she plans on remembering this woman and will pass on her power to her own staffs and customers.

Powerful people are influential.  Even a drugstore clerk. What about you?  Where do you have power?  How are you and how can you be influential?

How Hungry Are You?

There are three hungers that people are trying to feed throughout their lives. The first is to connect deeply with the creative spirit of life. The second is to know and express your gifts and talents. The third is to know that our lives matter. Fulfillment comes from feeding these three hungers.

Richard Leider, executive

I came across this quote a couple of weeks ago; I printed it out taped it to the wall behind my desk.  It sits there as a quiet reminder and challenge.

When I first read it, my knee jerk reaction was to ask myself how deeply am I connected to my creative spirit; how satisfied am I with how I express my gifts; and do I believe that my life matters?

Each morning I’d ask myself: “How hungry am I?  How satisfied is my hunger?”

Slowly, though, I found myself asking harder questions: “Am I aware of feeling hungry or have my senses been numbed?  Do I value my gifts or do I so disparage them so that I don’t even value them as “gift.”  Do I trust people enough to allow myself to feel the weight of their care for me or do I easily brush off love proffered?”

I’m now venturing into TMI territory, but. . .for much of my adult life, I’ve lived with, wrestled with, major clinical depression.  I’ve been fortunate in that I’ve had a support system, professional and personal, that has bolstered me so that not only can I function, but I can succeed in so many facets of life.

When people ask me about depression it’s frustrating to explain what it’s like because almost any explanation can easily sound like irresponsible self-pitying.  At times I wonder if I’m just offering piss-ant excuses for being lame-ass lazy!  That’s usually when I think I’m taking leave of my mental faculties.

Perhaps, though, the best way to describe depression (my experience of it) is that it blurs my vision.  I’m not able to recognize what is in front of me—love, opportunity, gifts, reasons for hope and excitement.  It brings about distortions so that when I say I struggle with depression what I mean is that I struggle with righting a distorted view of life.  Yes, there’s often been a physical struggle to muster energy, but more than that it’s about being able to draw a sense of urgency and commitment from the bounty surrounding me.

Although I’ve been wanting to blog about this quote since I came across it, I hadn’t intended for it to be a reflection on clinical depression.  Yet, every time I turn to this quote, I know in my gut that the author is so right—life is about making sense out of these three hungers.  I occasionally meet a person who lives his or her life in a way that daily feeds these hungers.  But then I meet so many others who, while not diagnosed with depression, live a hungry life.  Some are unable to name their hunger and why it makes them restless and distracted.  Others know where the hunger comes from and yet feel hopeless, lacking the “recipe” that will satiate their hunger.  And for others, they simply feed on junk food to satisfy the hunger and so become dull and vegetate.

What about you?  Sit with this quote for a bit and let it speak to you.  How hungry are you?  How do you satisfy that hunger?  How do you help feed the hungry in your life?

Someone once said that “the world’s a banquet and most poor slobs are starving to death.”  What’s holding you back from joining the banquet?

The Value Of Voicemail

Last Sunday I hung out with my eleven-year old godson, Finn.  The plan was to visit a wildlife animal refuge center that we go to every year at the start of summer vacation and then on to Target to find an early birthday gift and then cap it off with some ice-cream at our favorite shop.

About five minutes into the visit, Finn whipped out his I-phone, that was in a penguin faced protective case.  Before I could say anything, his nimble fingers had switched on a game.  I told him to put it away—this was a phone-free visit (I don’t take calls when I’m with him, except from his mother).  He smiled sheepishly and said that he wanted to play a game while we drove to the animal center.

I said ‘no.’ He’s a sweet boy and so he didn’t put up much of an argument, but in a deliberately whiney voice he asked, “what am I supposed to do?”  “How about we talk?”  “Talk about what?”  Ugh!

We played a guessing game for part of the drive and then he switched over to that annoying game children love to play where I say something and he repeats every word in the exact same tone, so that it produces a nonsensical conversation that he found wildly amusing.

We had a grand time with the animals and on the drive to Target we discussed which were our favs.  As picking out a birthday gift is serious business, there wasn’t much talk in the store.

When we got to the ice cream stand at The Grove (a popular outdoor mall here in LA) he reached for the penguin, but put it away when he saw me arch my eyebrows.

It was a sweet, silly visit and the day flew by because we were in the moment—each moment. 

I’d gotten several phone calls during the day but I let each go to voicemail.  Why didn’t I take the calls?  Because I wanted to be with Finn.  I didn’t want our time interrupted by people whose needs could wait a few hours.  Because I wanted to be in the moment without anyone or anything pulling Finn or me out of the fun and silliness of the moment.

When’s the last time you were with someone and neither you nor that person answered the phone during your conversation?  When’s the last time you were “in the moment” without any distractions?

I encourage you to try it—let your phone go to voicemail.  Not every call has to be answered in the moment it’s received.  Give your full attention to another person and you will create a quality experience.

The Benefit Of A Sore Throat

Peter Bregman writes regularly online for Harvard Business Review.  I always look forward to his postings as he consistently offers insight into the mundane yet critically important aspects of our daily communication interactions.

This is a condensed version of his May 31^st posting and it’s one I’ve reread several times.  I’ve seldom been as challenged by an article as I am with this:

How to Speak More Strategically by: Peter Bregman HBR  May 31, 2012

It had been three weeks since my throat started to feel sore, and it wasn't getting better. So I decided to spend a few days speaking as little as possible. This made me acutely aware of when and how I use my voice. Which led me to a surprising discovery: I spend considerable energy working against my own best interests.

In my observations, we speak for three main reasons: 1.To help ourselves
 2.To help others 3.To connect with each other.

Frequently, I had the urge to gossip about someone else. I realized that I did this to help myself (I will feel better if I think I'm better than that person) and to connect with the other gossipers. But clearly that would distance me from the people about whom I was gossiping. In fact, it would probably even distance me from my fellow gossipers too; who could trust someone who talked behind other people's back?

I also had the urge to share information when I thought it would be helpful to someone. That's a productive reason to speak. But several times I had the urge to say something simply to show that I knew the answer. Or to get attention. Or to increase my power in the group. It became clear to me that my urge to speak in those moments came from my desire to feel special.

Sometimes I wanted to help myself by getting the answer to a question, or making sure I was counted in a decision. That's useful. But other times, I just wanted to make sure my voice was heard over the din of the other voices. I caught myself wanting to speak over someone in a meeting. Or arguing a point to get others to agree with me so I'd feel more confident in my own opinion.

If I were to reduce our counter-productive speaking to a single motivation, it would be this: We often speak to make ourselves feel better in the short-term.

But life and relationships are long-term. And when we gossip, raise our voices, speak behind other people's backs, offer unsolicited opinions, or make jokes at other people's expense we're isolating ourselves over time.

There was some good news in my experience of talking less: I listened more. And listening, it turned out, was a much more productive way to achieve my speaking objectives than speaking.

When I listened, I helped myself, helped others and built relationships at least as effectively as I did speaking and with much less collateral damage.

Bregman touches on several themes that are at the heart of my own work.  I believe we live in a time when talk is cheap.  Turn to the cable news channels, listen to politicians, and hear the truth of language being massacred (and I don’t use that word lightly).

Bregman’s article offers insight into why talk is so cheap—many, most, of us are trying to feel good in the short term.  And I, too, am guilty of wanting instant gratification.  While I don’t enjoy arguing and don’t feel compelled to get others to agree with me, I do gossip and I can show off in meetings and conversations. 

My need to be liked and approved in the here and now consciously and unconsciously influences how I speak.

Since reading this article, I’ve made an effort to be more mindful of how and why I speak, to invite others to talk, and to listen with more interest.

What about you—how does the way in which you communicate satisfy your short term goals and needs?  Interested in taking a look at the long term?

Stand Up To Fear By Sitting Down!

Earlier this week I went to a networking event.  Ugh!  I dread networking events.  Why?  Well, I’m not sure I can give you a logical explanation.  While I have no problem speaking before hundreds of people, put me in a room where I’m supposed to strike up conversations with people I don’t know and I become tense and uncomfortable. 

Why do I become nervous?  I don’t like to be the one to initiate a conversation; I prefer that they come to me.  I tense up because I believe the crazy talk in my head.  I tell myself that they’re not going to want to chat with me; that they’ll think I’m trying to sell them something or get something from them.  I tell myself that the conversation will go nowhere and I’ll embarrass myself.  In short, I self hypnotize myself with this nonsense. 

I’m feeling embarrassed just writing this and yet I know I’m not alone in thinking this way.

I’ve come up with a way to trick myself into staying at a networking event.  I resolve not to leave until I get five business cards.  It’s just a simple commitment I make to myself.  So far, it’s helped.  I have a task at hand and once I start talking with someone, I do relax, as I love chatting with folks.  Usually, the person I’m speaking with introduces me to another person and so it goes until it’s the end of the evening and I’m walking away with more than five cards!

This week, though, my trick didn’t work.  After wandering around the ballroom for twenty minutes, I gave up.  I decided to leave.  Hey, I have that right!  But, I didn’t feel happy about giving up so quickly and I decided to get a drink and just sit in the lounge area outside the ballroom.  That’s it.  My plan was not to leave—just sit and see what happened.

Within five minutes, Kristin, a woman I’ve done business with and who has become a friend, walked by on her way to the ladies room.  We hugged and she told me not to move as she’d be right back. 

When she returned, we played catch-up as we made our way back into the ballroom where she introduced me to some friends, who introduced me to friends and so the night went on.  I ended up enjoying myself and would have missed out on some great conversations had I given in to my early discomfort and fled.

The night reminded me of what can happen when I stand (or sit!) my ground against baseless fear.

What fear are you tired of giving-in to?  Take a deep breath, have a seat and let yourself be surprised!

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.