What No Perfectionist Wants To Talk About

photo: faile.net

My godson, Leo, leaves this week to start his undergrad at a prestigious Chicago university.  Since it’s an expensive school, he and his parents were thrilled when he was invited to interview for a four-year scholarship that is awarded to only ten freshmen.

Leo is bright, articulate and charming.  I knew that if he could contain his nerves and be his proverbial “self,” he’d have done all he could do.

I called Leo’s dad the day after the interview and he told me that Leo was so disheartened that he refused to talk about it.  When gently prodded by his mother, he lashed out, saying it had been a disaster.  I was baffled; even if he had done his worst, it couldn’t have gone as badly as he thought.

Leo’s dad called the dean of freshmen and asked if there was any feedback he could give him or Leo on the interview.  The dean wasn’t able to reveal much except to say that two-hundred students had been invited to interview for the scholarship and that Leo had made it to the final thirty.  He didn’t receive the scholarship, but not because he “bombed” in the interview.

The reality is that it’s so hard to have an accurate sense of our “performance” in an interview, a presentation or even a simple conversation.  It’s even harder when we hold ourselves to a standard of perfection––which is what Leo holds himself to.

He didn’t get the scholarship.  That’s a fact.  He didn’t “bomb.”  That’s a fact; but because he didn’t get the scholarship, Leo equates that with making a horrible impression.  His belief is a fact, but it’s also a fact that it’s an unfair and debilitating belief.  He refuses to acknowledge what he’s accomplished because he has an all-or-nothing attitude.

Life isn’t black-or-white.  It’s seldom lived at the extremes.  You don’t need me to tell you that life is messy.  Success can only be found within that messiness.  And for a perfectionist, that’s hard to take seriously.

Dr. David M. Burns advises, “Aim for success, not perfection.  Never give up your right to be wrong, because then you will lose the ability to learn new things and move forward with your life.  Remember that fear always lurks behind perfectionism.  Confronting your fears and allowing yourself the right to be human can, paradoxically, make you a far happier and more productive person.”

Leo is going to the university as his parents found a way to make it happen––even though they’re still paying off their own college loans!  I hope Leo learns how to be successfully imperfect during his time in college.  It may just be the best lesson he could learn.

Sometimes Life Really Is Simple

I recently helped out my friend, Sue, with a summer boot camp she ran for the incoming seniors of the high school where she’s the college guidance counselor.  The three-day workshop focused on college application essay writing.

Sue and I have known each other for more years than I care to admit to in public, but we’ve seldom had opportunities to work together.  And so this was a fun treat.  It also gave me the chance to observe her in her “element” and to see her in action.

Here it is the summer and she’s heading up a program for forty teens that are drenched in Valley sweat and an early onslaught of nerves over the college application process.  And through it all Sue is calm, focused, humorous and gracious.

This was the second year for the camp and as she did last year, Sue provided lunch for her team.  And as with last year, everyone appreciated her taking care of them.  Perhaps I’m too jaded but I fully expected to be fed.  Hey, the pay is modest and a worker is worth his or her keep!

What I realized, though, is that the staff is not accustomed to being treated with this kind of appreciation.  They’re just used to brown bagging it, no matter the school function.  For Sue, though, it was a question of hospitality, of caring for those who ultimately are helping her with her job.

I’m reminded of a fable told by the great Indian teacher Anthony DeMello, s.j: “One day, a scorpion stood on the side of a stream and asked a frog to carry it to the other side. 'How do I know you won't sting me?' the frog asked. 'Because if I sting you, I'll drown,' the scorpion said.

The frog thought about it and realized that the scorpion was right. So he put the scorpion on his back and started ferrying him. But midway across the stream, the scorpion plunged its stinger into the frog's back. As they both began to drown, the frog gasped, 'Why?'

The scorpion replied, 'Because it is my nature.'”

And so it is with Sue.  She can’t do anything other than what she does.  As she said to me, “how could I have them help these kids and not feed them?  There’d be no camp without them!”  Sue literally could not not feed us.

Yes, I am biased because Sue is my friend (how lovely to write that) BUT, she’s also a professional who is on top of things and trusts that the people she’s gathered will do what they’re supposed to do and she reminds them – “you’re doing a great job.”

Sometimes, life can be that simple.

How A 16-Year-Old Taught Me The Power Of Words

Last week Pablo, one of my students at UCLA Extension, informed me that he was dropping the course because an unexpected job offer in Miami fell his way.  Although nervous, he knew this was one of those rare opportunities.

I congratulated him for his luck and his courage.  I know how a “rare opportunity” can be life changing as I’d seized such an opportunity soon after graduating college.  I was given the chance to teach at a high school on an island 700 miles south of Guam.

While I have many stories from my years at Xavier High School, this is my favorite.

I arrived a week before the semester’s start.  The principal reviewed with me the class roster, pointing out who was bright or lazy; who was a star or just a pain.  When he came to the name “Augustine” he said that he’d probably not last the semester, as he was a major troublemaker.

I was intrigued––could he be that bad?  By end of the first class it was clear to me that Augustine was the brightest kid in the class––and, yes, the biggest “pain.”

I took him aside and told him that I wasn’t in the habit of taking crap from anyone––especially not a freshman!  I told him that I’d heard he was lazy and that I had no doubt he could do “A” work, which is what I expected.  He was shocked.

As the semester progressed, I kept at him and slowly, steadily, his grades improved from ‘C’ to ‘C+’ to ‘B’ and then, with his final exam, he earned his first ever ‘A.’

I was thrilled that he’d pushed himself to do the caliber of work I knew he was capable of.  And I also felt smug as I proved everyone wrong!

I went looking for Augustine and found him on the basketball court.  I ran up, slapped him on the back and gave him the great news. I told him how proud I was and that I always knew he could do it.

His eyes glistened with tears, something no 16-year-old boy wants.  He said that no one had ever told him, “Augustine, you can do it.”  I was incredulous, yet I later learned that he came from an unusually broken home and that, indeed, most likely, no one had ever told him that he could “do it.”

This was many years ago and today Augustine works in his government’s historical preservation office.

The power of words is the power to create reality.  My words helped to create a new reality for Augustine because they helped Augustine see himself as he truly could be.

Is there an Augustine in your life?

A "Thank-You" Note From a Former Client

I recently had an email from a former coaching client.  Alice (name changed) wrote:

I took to heart much of what you said at our meeting many months ago. As a result of talking with you and taking various classes, there has been and continues to be an internal shift taking place within me that has significantly increased my perception in the value of my skill set and has resulted in my being much braver to venture out on my own in the workplace.  I still work WITH Ray (she used to work “for” him), however, I am in the process of creating my own subdivision within the company. 

Just in case you’re wondering, self-growth sucks-–no better way to describe the process.

PS:  Your advice on how to dress professionally was important to hear and shows that you are brave too!

I was delighted when I read this note––delighted that Alice is seeing the value she brings to the work her husband does and delighted she’s sensing that she can “do it.”

I especially like her description of “self-growth.”  Yes, it sucks!  It is hard work because for most of us, by the time we set about consciously creating new mindsets and new behaviors, we’re so set in our old ways, no matter how dysfunctional, we resist change.

Alice, though, was hell-bent on changing, on finding her voice, on finding a new way of being.  Without being “hell-bent” nothing new will appear.

And in terms of her P.S., well, I was surprised.  Alice has a wonderful, down-to-earth way about her.  She has a hard time understanding why people would waste her time or their time engaging in b.s.  To use an overused word, Alice is genuine.  This is also reflected in her clothes.  She’s in her late 50’s (a guess) and dresses with an LL Bean casualness.  I urged her to think about what impression she wanted to create when meeting clients.

I didn’t think I was being especially “brave” in my comments.  We had established a relationship of trust and so I felt comfortable and confident in giving impression-management feedback.

Trust lets you do many more things you wouldn’t think of doing!

Bottom line: Yeah, self-growth sucks BUT the alternative is even suckier!

The Kindness Of Strangers - The Best Kind Of Kindness

Here is an article from the Harvard Business Review Blog that is heartening in a “pay-it-forward” kind of way AND is spot-on in its insights into the simple skills that go into professional networking and relationship building.

Blanche Du Bois (of A Streetcar Names Desire fame) is again proved right by believing in the “kindness of strangers”!

Make a Stranger Believe in You

by Anne Kreamer  |  HBR February 19, 2013

I recently received an e-mail sent to my business address that began with the salutation "Dear Ms. Anne," — the kind of greeting that suggested that the rest of the note would offer me riches from some recently deceased Estonian cousin I didn't know I had. It continued, "I know you have no idea who I am, however, I will try to keep this as short and to the point as possible" — words destined to cause a further sinking feeling about what was to come. But in the seconds I skimmed the note, a few words jumped out at me and I was intrigued. In three short paragraphs, Zanele Mutepfa, a junior at Portland State University in Oregon, told me that she was an immigrant Zimbabwean-born orphan and youth advocate who aspired to be a television talk show host. With a bravado that might have been off-putting, she said, "I assure you, my dynamic life story will one day hit headlines...but most importantly change lives, it just needs to be shared with the perfect person." She was coming to New York City — might I have time to meet with her?

I had moved from the hinterlands to New York myself, 35 years ago, with virtually no professional contacts, so when she closed her note by saying, "Some may think one of the strangest things to do is believe in a stranger, but if not one stranger believed in us, once upon a time, where would we all be today?... someone did it for you."

Yes. Yes they did. So I Googled ‘Zanele’, found a link indicating she was who she said she was, and agreed to meet.

continue reading. . .