All change involves loss and some degree of grief, but we rarely help people – or ourselves -- process loss at work. Never mind learn ways to recover and become stronger.
Losing a job. Losing work mates from downsizing. Losing the respect of executives because we challenged their beliefs -- beliefs that we know will soon cause problems. Losing the confidence in our employer because they sacrificed beloved organizational values to gain another two percent growth.
We deny our sadness and say things like, “It’s just a job, not brain cancer.”
We suffer. Beat ourselves up. Become bitter. Curse our bosses and the rigid, hierarchical bureaucracies posing as progressive organizations. We get riled up and think, “Somebody should sue the bastards, for God’s sake.”
Or we choose to find meaning and learn from what happened, which not only eases suffering, but can potentially transform our careers.
Post traumatic growth
Admiral Jim Stockdale was repeatedly tortured for eight years as a prisoner of war during the Vietnam War. He didn't have much reason to believe he’d ever make it home. He said he survived by framing the experience as something that would define the rest of his life.
Rather than denying reality or taking on a victim mindset, Admiral Stockdale lived each day in prison trying to help the morale of his fellow prisoners. The overly-optimistic POWs without this mindset, however, didn’t fare so well.
Stockdale came out of the war experiencing post-traumatic growth, which is a positive psychological change resulting from adversity. (As opposed to the more commonly written about syndrome of post-traumatic stress disorder.)
People who experience post-traumatic growth find a new appreciation for life, new perspectives on work paths, and a renewed sense of meaning.
In fact, some psychological research shows that finding benefits from a trauma can lead to personal transformation, according to University of California/Riverside professor Dr. Sonja Lyubomirsky, author of The How of Happiness.
“Focusing on the lessons you can learn from the ordeal will help soften its blow,” says Dr. Lyubomirsky. “The lessons those realities impart could be patience, perseverance, loyalty or courage. Or perhaps you’re learning open-mindedness, forgiveness, generosity or self-control. Research shows that with post-traumatic growth you not only can you survive and recover, you can flourish.”
Social support, meaning and self-compassion
Three proven practices to experience post traumatic growth are social support, finding meaning, and self-compassion.
Carmen and I have always said that having a trusted tribe of friends is essential for all who identify as Rebels at Work. While your Rebel Alliance can help make your ideas better and move them through the bureaucracy, these friends can also help you recover from setbacks.
“Social support is pretty incredible, a strategy of almost magical proportions,” says Dr. Lyubomirsky. “Talking to others about a traumatic experience not only helps you cope and see the event with a new perspective.”
A second strategy for coping is to find meaning and new perspectives by writing about the experience.
Expressive writing forces us to organize our jumble of thoughts and feelings and construct a new narrative. Dr. James Pennebaker of the University of Texas, who has been studying the benefits of writing for 30 years, found that it is a far more powerful tool for healing than anyone had imagined.
Writing for just 15 minutes a day for four consecutive days can produce lasting results in health, happiness and outlook. His recommended approach and writing prompts can be found here.
The trick, he says, is to not keep writing about the negative incident in the same way.
“If you catch yourself telling the same story over and over to get past your distress, rethink your strategy. Try writing or talking about your trauma in a completely different way,” Dr. Pennebaker advises in The Secret Life of Pronouns. “How would a more detached narrator describe what happened? What other ways of explaining the event might exist? “
The third strategy is self-compassion, accepting that you’re human, acknowledging failures and frustrations and not dwelling on mistakes.
“Rather than relentlessly condemning ourselves when we fall, even if our fall is a spectacular one, we do have another option,” says Dr. Kristin Neff, author of Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself.
“We can recognize that everyone has times when they blow it, and treat ourselves kindly," she says. Maybe we weren't able to put our best foot forward, but we tried, and falling flat on one’s face is an inevitable part of life. An honorable part, in fact.”
If we’re really pushing the envelope to do great work, we will fall.
Friends, self-compassion and finding meaning from what happened can help us rise up and push even further.
Oh, the shortsightedness of leaders who espouse fearlessness. Especially when you find yourself in a fearlessness team building exercise and you keep stalling out on a major Berlin street at rush hour because you can’t get the clutch of your 40-year-old, East German Trabi car into second gear.
Horns blare, BMWs cut you off, bicyclists appear out of nowhere. Fraulein, what are you doing? Get off the road.
I freeze in fear. How was it that I was driving this crapbox of a car for the past 10 minutes and now I am paralyzed, unable to move from 1st to second to third to oops, stop for a red light, don’t hit the bicyclists, and back to first and oh shit we’re stalled again. And, oh the crappy brakes. Will someone plow into us? Mein Gott, I’ve got two people in the car who are parents of young children.
A half an hour earlier 100 people from the company offsite were in a parking lot, dividing up into small teams of three, with one of the three volunteering to drive an old Trabi. To where we did not know. Oh, the fun of team building excursions.
Fearlessly volunteering for a team building exercise
Remembering how much I loved driving my first car, a red Fiat 128 with an amazing sound system and quirky stick shift, I volunteered to be the driver. How hard could it be?
Angela, Todd and I get in the car, me in driver’s seat. The jovial Trabi tour guide shows me how to work the shift. “See, one, two, up and in for three, then like this for reverse.” Not on the floor like my beloved Fiat, but on a 3-on-the-tree column shift. He points to a faded, peeling diagram on the dashboard that supposedly shows how to shift the gears. It is useless.
But I am fearless. I know how to drive a manual transmission car. I know how to drive in a crazy city. I learned how to drive in Boston.
So what if it is dusk. And rush hour in a big, foreign city. And that I need to drive in this rush hour and listen to navigational instructions on an ancient car radio full of static. And that we are the last car in a long line of Trabi cars and the exhaust from the cars is engulfing us in noxious fumes we EPA babies have never experienced. Let the fearless adventure begin!
Off we go. I’ve got this.
And then I don’t.
Stopping for red lights, bikes passing in front of the car, being in the wrong lane. The voice on our radio commanding, “Take the next right. Stay in the middle lane.” Every traffic light, shifting, braking, engaging back into first gear, then second, then stalling in traffic. One, twice, three times. Now panicking. Throughout it all my team mates are supportive, reassuring, masking their worry, offering to drive.
The white Trabi is lost
The man in the radio comes back on, “We have lost the white Trabi. Everyone, pull over at the next intersection and we will hope that the white Trabi will catch up.”
My prefrontal cortex has shut down in fear and I can’t even get the crapbox Communist car into first. Someone else has to drive. I pull over and Angela jumps into the back seat. I climb into the passenger seat and Todd climbs over from the backseat to the driver’s seat. It would be hilarious to see this human jungle gym if we weren’t all so rattled.
The gears grind but Todd gets our white Trabi moving, catching up with our crapbox caravan. We’re supposed to be seeing the beautiful historic sites of Berlin as we drive around. But our team can only focus on the Trabi.
After missing a turn, we lose the caravan. Todd bravely makes a U-turn to try to find the other Trabis being driven by our teammates, those lucky ones who seem to be easily driving, following instructions and enjoying the tour. How are they learning about fear? Our car’s gears groan and we stop on a side street. The Trabi tour leader finds us and pulls up in his electric car.
“Ach, zee two cylinder is only catching one cylinder,” he tells us. “Do you want to take my electric car and I drive the Trabi?” Not wanting to fail the fearless exercise, we decline. The nice Trabi tour guide reaches into our car, yanks on the clutch, and then somehow the driving is a little easier.
The voice from the radio tells the others to pull over and wait. The last white Trabi is coming.
Fifteen minutes later, like an oasis in the desert, we see a beautifully lighted restaurant and a long line of Trabis in a parking lot. It’s over. As we climb out of the car waiters serve us very good rose champagne. I drink two glasses, probably too fast.
I want my fear
At the end of the evening I tell the executive what I think about his “Be Fearless” mantra for developing a more risk-taking organizational culture. To his credit, he listens intently and with an open mind.
Telling people to “be fearless” and “fail fast” is superficial and lacks empathy.
Fear is one of the basic human emotions. We shouldn’t deny its existence or value -- in ourselves and in others. Fear provides important data. Our desire should not be about having less fear but understanding what we can learn from our fears.
Sometimes fear signals what we desire, motivating us to figure out what we need to do to get there. Fear has preceded every major accomplishment in my life – saying yes to stepping off a corporate career track, saying yes to starting companies, saying yes to marriage, saying yes to becoming a mother at 40, saying yes this past summer to doing an improvisational monologue in front of an audience. Fear propelled me forward.
Other times fear is our personal sonar system alerting us to danger, indicating what we need to learn, warning us from toxic situations, or giving us the energy to say no to commitments that sap our energy. Or that ask us to be someone we are not.
Fear gives us courage. It helps us to be fully alive and awake to the world in a way that confidence and bravery do not.
So yes, I hated that team building exercise because it made me fear FULL.
And I loved the exercise because it reminded me to ask for help, let my vulnerabilities show, and know that team mates are there to help. They want to help.
We’re all in this together, especially when we see a Berlin city bus barreling down the street at us when we’re stuck in a stalled Trabi.
My big takeaway from the #bif2017 annual innovation conference is this:
Look at what you really give a shit about and then go do something about it.
This is the best way to feel fully alive and leave the world a better place. Nothing changes when we sit on the sidelines. Or worse, it does change, but not how we want.
- More people starve from poverty. (@eastvanbrand)
- Crazy, narcissistic, self-serving billionaires get into office. (@alanwebber)
- Teachers check out. (@100kin10)
- People with cardiac issues don’t check back in with their doctors. (@MGHHeartHealth)
- Systems of inequities and injustices oppress and kill people, bodily and/or in spirit. (@taliqtillman, @carrolldesign, @tenygross)
Complacency and apathy create danger.
Accept the offer, know you are enough
Oh, but when we “accept the offer” of what life dishes out (@jazzcode),
recognize that we can’t go back to what was (@CajunAngela),
free the talented blue lobster people (@dscofield),
realize we are enough (@taliqtillman),
we can move mountains.
Especially when we get clear on what we fiercely care about.
The "give a shit" litmus test
When it comes to getting clear, the “give a shit” litmus test is a much better decision filter to me than the soft, passive words like purpose, passion, personal brand (gag).
Language is powerful. It can oppress, judge, bore, shake us awake and kick our ass.
A Fortune 50 client today asked me to help her articulate a clearer purpose for her organization. Emboldened by BIF2017, I asked what she and her colleagues really “give a shit about” beyond the polished brand narrative. Now we were talking, for fu*k’s sake.
As an aside, if you’re someone who is offended by swearwords or think it’s lazy to use them, I urge you to read “Holy Shit: A Brief History of Swearing” by Melissa Mohr.
People swear about what they care about. As Carmen Medina (@milouness) said, some people deserve to be called assholes. And sometimes those assholes can open doors for you if you're looking forward.
Mohr tells us that “swearwords are the most powerful words we have with which to express extreme emotion, whether negative or positive…we need irreproachably formal and unassailably decent speech, but we also need the dirty, the vulgar, the wonderful obscenities and oaths that can do for us what no other words can.
I give a shit about helping people be heard.
Helping people to challenge the status quo and advocate for positive change in their organizations? Well sure, that’s part of it, but that doesn’t mobilize anyone, including me.
In today’s world we have to stop the yak, yak, yakking and do something. No more waiting around for the proverbial “them” to save us.
Live your name as it's in the stars
In his story about courageous conversations Courtlandt Butts (@CC_AboutRace) talked about how he was ridiculed about his name in school. When he looked up the meaning of his name he learned that it is “messenger from the island.”
“You will live up to your name as it’s in the stars,” he said.
Today I looked up mine and found it means “Better Warrior.” No wonder I so love the Rebels at Work tribe.
Following Angela Blanchard’s wise counsel I will continue to help people do the right thing, not the rule thing.
And I will honor grief and gratitude, forgiving the past so that we may all go dancing today.
Who knows, maybe Philip Sheppard (@PhilipSheppard) will be playing his cello.
Miss Smarty Pants here thought she was pretty clear about what courage means to her. In fact, for the first day and a half of Courage Camp I was like one of those straight-A girls in school who zips through the reading exercise faster than any one else.
Maybe I default to reflections and responses that I’ve used before because I lead and have participated in many convenings like this.
Or perhaps I was so enthralled in listening to others’ stories that I didn’t have the energy to dig any deeper into my own obstacles and aspirations.
Or maybe I have written so much about creating change and showing up naked-hearted that I thought I had figured things out.
Oh, girlfriend, you are so wrong.
About halfway through of Day Two something blurted out of my mouth that shook me awake. An idea that I’ve kept in the back of my mind for four years because it seems so risky and hard to do.
In the exercise four people got together as if it were 2018 and we were all back at Courage Camp sharing something that had happened in the past year.
“You wouldn’t believe what I did last year since Courage Camp 2017. I actually, finally did ___________, and it felt ______________ because ______________.”
This playful approach allowed really scary yearnings to jump out of who knows where. And it wasn’t just me. Everyone in my group was bragging and laughing and reveling in what they had done. Even though, of course, it was all make believe. We imagined what we’d love to do.
My hunch is most of us will attempt to make those things happen.
And so I surrendered to playfulness, and told the controlling me to step aside, sweetheart.
You are way too old in your thinking.
By old I mean you think you’ve figured things out so you stop really thinking and experiencing and imagining. Even though I like to think my ideas are creative, they’re not if I’ve thought and used them before. They might be interesting but they’re not fresh and new.
Had I started coasting on good ideas in my life? Was I subconsciously cutting myself off from the playful, new ones? Well, that was a big enough epiphany to make the entire Courage Camp experience worthwhile.
But there was a second one about being old that rattled me awake, too.
Being called a elephant matriarch.
Sometimes I catch myself being ageist – against myself. I noticed at one point that I was probably oldest person at camp. It was fleeting, but still I had pangs to be 20 years younger and so that all the wisdom I was gleaning could be used for years and years. Instead of just for years.
In passing while we were drinking wine and dancing on Wednesday night someone said I was like an “elephant matriarch.” When we wrote our appreciation notes at the end of camp, the same person again thanked me for being a matriarch elephant.
Really? Can’t I be a playful gazelle? A graceful egret? A resilient willow tree? Anything other than an old elephant.
When I got home from Camp I researched elephant matriarchs. They are wise, unselfish, nurturing. The males take off, but the matriarch teaches, models how to respond to threats, balances the needs of the group, avoids unnecessary travel, and remembers where good resources can be found.
So the other epiphany was accepting – no, honoring – how other people see us vs. how think we want to see ourselves.
Learning with and from a community of openhearted, wise people is more expansive than anything we can learn on our own.
Slowing down to listen to others and to ourselves reveals surprises.
Cuts off our usual self-narratives.
Wakes up an inner voice that wants to sing.
Invites us to believe in our manhood, finally.
Tells the shitty roommate in our heads that dorm life isn't for you anymore.
Yodels to the adventurous spirit that is lost in bureaucracy.
Commits to Plan A and tosses the Plan B safety net into the Atlantic.
Confirms the wisdom of wearing a corporate mask as you simultaneously transform the corporation.
Convinces us to cut our hair and let it blow wild and free.
Assures us that our deep hurts are what make us deep healers.
Urges us to go find that beautiful, wild alter ego abandoned long ago.
Reminds us of what saves us, be it God, tango, Zumba, or leaving a bad relationship.
And so I will playfully attempt my creative risk -- and honor myself as an elephant matriarch.
Knowing that none of us have it all figured it out.
But together we can surprise ourselves.
I just got back from a 5-day creative writing retreat with 10 brave, talented artists. It was an intense, exhausting and exhilarating experience where our extraordinary teacher Ann Randolph gently yet firmly pushed us way outside our comfort zones.
We wrote alone, sitting in the same room. And then we read our stories aloud to one another.
It felt sacred, being alone and together. Having time to go deep into our own writing and reflection, and then being able to speak our truths among such a safe, caring group of people.
What does this have to do with improving the soul of work? I "re-entered" the work world wondering:
- Why are so many work relationships and "team building" attempts so superficial? If there were more ways to share more of the real us, there could be so much more empathy, compassion and psychological safety at work. And with that, more people might speak up and more might listen. And more of the right things might get done faster.
- Why don't more people take time to journal about their work to more clearly understand what's happening and put it into perspective? Research shows that when we slow things down and reflect, we're able to be more creative about solving especially challenging problems. Check out this recent HBR post by former CEO Dan Ciampa, "The More Senior Your Job Title, the More You Need to Keep a Journal." (Then insert, "The More Committed You Are...")
- Similarly, why don't more people take time to think? Especially with close friends. One of the articles I re-read every summer is "Of Solitude and Leadership" by former Yale professor William Dersiewicz, based on his speech to plebes at West Point. It's long, but his perspectives on bureaucracy, complacency and conformity speak to us Rebels. His view on how to "find the strength to challenge an unwise order or wrongheaded policy" is especially wise. And something we can all do.
- Why don't more people do the right thing just because it's the right thing? Some of my best writing will never be published. Some of our bravest rebel recommendations will never get us a promotion. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't persevere. Let's stop aiming for the biggest platform to change the world or a bazillion Twitter followers and just do work that matters, however "small" it may seem. Charles' Einstein's recent piece, "The Age of We Need Each Other" captures this thought brilliantly.
I hope you find some time this summer to reflect, have leisurely conversations with friends about ideas that matter, and keep on. You have more talents and innate wisdom than you probably realize.
This is an abbreviated version of Lois’ speech at the Home Care Alliance of Massachusetts’ 2017 Innovation and Star Awards ceremony.
I had dinner last week with a good friend who has worked as a hospital executive for 30 years. When I told her about today’s event, she started raving.
“These people working in home health care are amazing,” she said. “The stress, the uncertainty of one day to the next, the never knowing when budgets are going to be cut, the seriousness and complexity of patient issues. I’m telling you these health care professionals are some of the bravest people in the world. They are heroic, real life super heroes.”
I told her I disagreed.
In the face of fear or danger anyone can be brave.
Health care professionals are more than brave. You are courageous. And courage is one of the most important virtues in our world. Maybe more important now than ever before.
There are four traits that make up courage:
- Honesty: speaking the truth, acting in a genuine, sincere way, and taking responsibility for your own feelings and actions.
- Perseverance: sticking with what’s important and getting things done despite obstacles.
- Vitality: bringing enthusiasm and energy to how you live. Not doing things half-heartedly. Feeling alive and optimistic.
- Bravery: not shrinking from threat, challenge, difficulty or pain. Speaking up for what is right and acting on your convictions even if they’re unpopular.
Courageous people do what is right. They willfully resist taking the easy way out. They rebel against complacency and mediocrity. They keep going when most people give up.
Courageous people inspire us to be better versions of ourselves.
And this room today is jam packed with courageous people.
Honesty, perseverance, bravery, vitality. These are the traits that make us courageous. We all have these innate traits, according to psychology research. And the more we use these traits, the greater our courage becomes.
Getting out of Crazytown
But let’s not pretend there aren’t those days when stress sucks the energy from us. People quit. Budgets cut get. A patient’s family gets emotional and confrontational. Administrative paperwork follows you home. Your car blows a tire and your child is sick and you can’t get to work. Your sister gets a bad diagnosis. The basement floods and there goes the vacation money. Your life feels like Crazy Town.
Anybody here ever felt like they were in Crazy Town?
No one feels particularly courageous on those days. Most of us feel downright pissy.
The big question is: How do some people quickly bounce back from stressful situations and stay positive and optimistic – while others become negative, complacent, or, even worse, think of themselves as martyrs? Why do some people thrive despite life’s inevitable obstacles?
They practice resiliency.
Resiliency is simply defined as the ability to cope with stress and rebound quickly. It’s not something most of us are born with. We have to consciously develop it.
Four favorite resiliency practices
While everyone in this room knows the value of eating well, sleeping soundly and exercising regularly, there are four other resiliency practices I’d like to share with you.
They’ve truly transformed my life, helping me quickly adapt and bounce back during those personal and professional Crazy Town periods
Three good things/hunt the good. Every night write down the three things that did go well during the day. Doing this helps us see the good in life, even on the Crazytown days. As importantly, it helps us look for the good every day, developing a more optimistic, positive mindset. Which, by the way is contagious.
Self-compassion/being kind to yourself: No one is harder on ourselves than ourselves. We are our toughest critics. On those tough days, I’d suggest you think of the famous Otis Redding song, and try a little tenderness. For yourself.
When our good friends are stressed and feeling down, we’re there to offer them kindness and compassionate advice. “You’re too exhausted to think. Go home and sleep for 12 hours and things will look differently when you’re rested,” we might say to her. Why not give that advice to ourselves?
Appreciating your work mates: Appreciation is the single greatest motivator at work, according to Dr. Adam Grant of the University of Pennsylvania. Not “have a great day” balloons or rah-rah parties. (Though some days those can be so much fun.) I encourage you all to make time twice a year, or better yet, once a month, to tell your team mates what they do that makes your work so much better. Giving and receiving appreciation lifts our spirits and fills our tanks with enormously positive energy.
Be in awe: No matter what’s going on in our lives, we can stop and marvel at some small wonder in the world. My husband has Parkinson’s Disease and today he was off. My worrying lizard brain was starting to act up. I went outside and looked up at the sky finally clearing after last night’s vicious thunderstorms. The clouds looked magical. For a couple of minutes I got lost in their beauty. And got myself out of worry and into a can-do mentality. Stop. Look up and look around. There is such beauty in unexpected places.
And for good measure, know that indigenous peoples found that story telling, dancing, singing and silence are universal salves for our souls. I especially recommend the dancing and silence, two things most of us never get enough of.
Believing in Wonder Woman’s belief
To wrap up and get to the awards, I want to confess that I not only told my healthcare friend that bravery was over-rated. I told her that we shouldn’t worship heroes. No one person saves the day. It’s about courage and diverse teams of people working together, not heroics.
But then I saw Wonder Woman this weekend and think there may be room for that kind of hero.
At the end of the movie Wonder Woman says to her nemesis:
It isn’t about what you deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love. Only love will save the world.
Here’s to courage and resiliency and a whole lot of love. And most of all, here’s to all of you here today. You are true wonder women and men.
Music keeps me sane, especially driving during rush hour. So when SiriusXM yanked my favorite station (The Loft) off the air for two weeks, I programmed Soul Town into my car radio and my psyche.
My first reaction to these 60’s and 70s soul classics was, “Oh, my God, how did we grow up on such a steady stream of lovelorn and often sexist music?”
Yearning, marveling, celebrating, mourning. Talk about getting into our souls.
There was Barry White crooning, “You're my first, my last, my everything.” Aretha sitting in vain, wrapping on the door, tapping on the windowpane trying to get her guy back. Bill Withers getting no sunshine because she went away. And The Supremes reminding us that though they set you free, they’d be there for you no matter what, ‘cause ain't no mountain high enough to keep them from you.
For a few days I wondered whether this music was just a little too over-dramatic and dated to keep listening to.
Flip the perspective: This Song Is For You
One day as DJ Ken “Spiderman” Webb’s mellifluous voice mellowed my exasperated mood in bumper-to-by bumper traffic, I played a little head game. What if I listened to these love songs as songs to myself instead of odes to current and lost loves?
Might flipping the perspective of these classic tunes be a way to reach out and show myself a little tenderness? Might they give me a little sunshine on a cloudy day?
And then my thoughts went to how good most of us are at not being so good to ourselves. People tell me their bosses, their children, their mothers are tough on them. But really, we’re toughest on ourselves.
There’ so much I don’t know. But one thing I do know is that we can’t help others, do our best work, or enjoy life if we don’t first reach out and comfort and care for ourselves.
Research by Dr. Kristin Neff, a University of Texas psychology professor and author of Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself has found that people who are self-compassionate lead healthier, more productive lives than those who are self-critical. Self-compassion works better than self-esteem; it gives us a stable sense of security and self-worth and improves our motivation.
Neff recommends that we try to talk to ourselves like we would our best friends, offering advice and doling out kindness.
I’d add singing love songs to yourself.
The Loft is back but I’m not giving up Soul Town. Excuse me while I get back to Diana and Marvin:
Listen to your heart, hear what it's saying
Listen to your heart, hear what it's saying
Love, love, love
It starts Friday, checking into the dorm and making our way to the clam bake.
There will no doubt be drinking and dancing. Laughing and teasing. Some bragging and the requisite bullshit until everyone calms down and realizes that no one cares about titles, beach houses, exotic travels, wonderful children, and, for some, darling grandchildren.
Then the fun can begin.
The reaching back to remember our naked-hearted 20-year-old selves, where we dreamed of where the world might take us and then worried what time we had to get to Scorpios before the bar stopped letting people in. When our hearts burst open from our first sexual crushes and then contemplated how we might make a difference in the world.
When we’d stay up all night talking with friends, crying over Joni Mitchell, pondering the keys of life with Stevie, freeing our wild sides with Barry White. No one had to tell us about the importance of authenticity, transparency, listening, passion, learning, creativity. They ran through our veins and filled us with wonder and wildness. (Wild cats, indeed.)
University of New Hampshire was a safe place to own our intelligence, free ourselves from adolescent and parental restrictions, experiment with our longings, and find friends whom we would end up loving forever.
UNH seeded our lives with possibilities.
Forty years later many yearn for that feeling. If you’re lucky, deaths, divorces, illness, financial setbacks, emotional punches and physical betrayals have nibbled away at optimism. For many others the ravenous vampire of life has sucked it away. Yes, we’re wiser and some days wearier.
I’m sure there will be talk this weekend about donating for a class gift, which we will all try to do.
But a more significant class gift may be to wander the lush, gorgeous campus together and reconnect to what is still possible in our lives.
To tap into the magical and powerful optimism that we had in 1977, pull it out, and marvel that we are ready for more.
Trying to influence someone to support your idea? Make sure you know what triggers them in a positive way.
There's a brilliant scene in "Hidden Figures," the 2016 Academy Award nominated film, where one of the African American heroines petitions a white judge to allow her to take engineering night courses at a "Whites Only" school. She taps into the judge's desire for status -- being the first and leaving a legacy -- and wins her appeal. Take a look at the clip.
Status is one of five triggers that are hardwired into our brains, according to Dr. David Rock's SCARF model of behavior.
When we understand a person's "neuro trigger" we can appeal to that when trying to influence them, just as Mrs. Jackson did with the judge. You see, neuroscientists have found that our brains are hardwired to maximize reward and minimize danger. A perceived positive reward or emotion makes us act. A negative emotion or perceived threat causes us to flee or avoid the situation or decision.
What's fascinating is that we quickly make decisions based on these triggers usually without even understanding what's triggering us.
The SCARF triggers are:
- Status – our hardwired social need for esteem and respect, and about our relative importance to others.
- Certainty – our the ability to predict what will happen.
- Autonomy – our sense of control over events and opportunity to make choices.
- Relatedness – the level of comfort and safety we feel with others. We're hardwired to classify people quickly as either friend or foe.
- Fairness – the perception of fair exchanges between people.
So many attempts to influence people are based on facts and rational thinking. And they fall flat.
It's helpful to be reminded that almost all decisions are based on emotion and our neuro-triggers are calling the shots.
I love my work as co-founder of the Rebels at Work movement, helping people develop the practices and self-esteem to lead change, regardless of their positional authority. Here are observations of what rebels need from their bosses in order to thrive and provide value to their teams.
Reflections on creative dormancy and the rebellious nature of silence.
“The task of calling things by their true names, of telling the truth to the best of our abilities, of knowing how we got here, of listening particularly to those who have been silenced in the past, of seeing how the myriad stories fit together and break apart, of using any privilege we may have been handed to undo privilege or expand its scope is each of our tasks. It’s how we make the world.”Read More