Tuesday, December 1, 2009

The Journey of Love...

"The journey of love isn’t easy. There’s a frequent detour most of us take. In trying to love others we quickly, unsuspectingly end up trying to turn them into our fantasy of what they should be, rather than quietly, respectively getting a sense of them; listening to them as they change over time and helping them grow gracefully into who God dreams them to be, not what we dream them to be."

Robert Lawton, S.J. (President, Loyola Marymount University) at the memorial service for Peg Dolan, R.S.H.M.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

I Play Guitar

Yes. I play guitar. I am 39 years old and for the first time in my life, except for a brief and painful period during elementary school when I was a less than budding clarinetist, I can answer affirmatively the question "Do you play a musical instrument?"

I have been a vocalist since the age of 14 when my big sister dragged me into the high school choir room and presented me to the director. I am so glad she did that because it allowed me to discover my musical ability in the form of singing. And, my life has been richly blessed because of music and my involvement in many different choral groups. What has always been missing, what I have always wanted and never had the motivation, discipline or commitment to tackle, is learning an instrument. I always thought it would be piano but here I am, a guitarist.

Now, let me be clear. I didn't say anything about my ability, just that I now "play." You see, I am a beginner. Big time. I know a few chords (the hand positions, not the names, from when a friend tried to teach me "What I Like About You") and my musically prodigious son has even got me playing a little bit of "Smoke On the Water." Of course, that's not what I'm after. I really want to play this thing and it's all because of this video I stumbled across on YouTube. Check it out:



When I first saw and heard this, I knew I had to learn it. Sure, I can sing it but I want to play it! And so I decided that by my 40th birthday (April 6, 2010) I will play and sing "You Can Close Your Eyes." I love this goal, it scares the hell out of me and I know I can do it.

I bought a used guitar from a friend. I have a capo, a strap and a pick. My first lesson is tonight. And I am a beginner.

You are invited to take this journey with me...please stay tuned.

Friday, November 6, 2009

incubate a symphony of delicate power



I wandered into a colleague's office today and after a little Friday afternoon banter she pulled out an unopened box of magnetic poetry. You've seen this, right? Lots of words on magnetic backing that you can separate and rearrange into whatever playful, mischievous, mysterious, meaningful or nonsense order you want. So we started messing with it and she told me I had to take some with me. So, I decided to put a quote together that I could put on my office cabinet. I came up with this:

"incubate a symphony of delicate power"

Now, perhaps I am guilty of always looking for ways to express what's most prevalent on my mind (as opposed to something more nonsensical and silly) and in this case it just felt right to grab a few words that speak to what we are trying achieve in our organization. A little magnetic reminder of our aspiration.

To incubate is to get ready and prepare. To cultivate with protective care the thing that you hope to birth into the world so that it will survive and thrive.

A symphony (literally, "sounding together") is a collection of individual musicians who have an implicit contract with one another and their leader to play in concert with the whole. Their individual expertise is heightened through their commitment and connection to one another. The whole is the sum of the parts.

Delicate is gentle, thoughtful, careful and considerate. It is curious and imaginative, open and tentative. It is fragile and requires great care. It is refined and restrained.

Power is strength, focus and determination. It is commitment, resolve and belief. It is decisive, focused and clear. It is movement and energy.

We must "sound together," from a powerful stance of belief and committed action, considering the delicate humanity of every individual, to bring to life an organization of meaning, learning and significant contribution.

All this from wandering the halls on a Friday afternoon.

Aimlessness certainly has its place.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Team Spirit

"When you ask people...what it is like being part of a great team, what is most striking is the meaningfulness of the experience. People talk about being part of something larger than themselves, of being connected, of being generative. It becomes quite clear that, for many, their experiences as part of truly great teams stand out as singular periods of life lived to the fullest. Some spend the rest of their lives looking for ways to recapture that spirit."

Peter Senge, The Fifth Discipline, as featured in Prisoners of Our Thoughts by Alex Pattakos.

When I was in college I had the single greatest team experience of my life. I was a member of the men's chorus at Loyola Marymount University under the inspiring, demanding and deeply meaningful direction of Paul Salumunovich, truly a master of choral conducting. Coming out of high school I was the embodiment of the "big fish" who had been swimming around in the small pond of choral music and theater. Sure, I had some musical ability but I wasn't much of a "technical" musician and my audition to join the choral program at LMU was an abrupt and unsettling reality check about just how big the ocean was in which I would now be swimming. I recall Mr. Salumunovich (years later I endeavored to call him "Paul") at one point saying to me: "you do know it's important to actually do the exercises I am asking you to do, right?" Pretty humbling stuff.

Once I got my sea legs I knew I had become a part of something truly special. Rehearsals were intense and fun, the music was challenging and gorgeous and the camaraderie was the best type of "male bonding." We were silly and juvenile until the downbeat came and then it was the best of musical professionalism and integrity. The most memorable part was how I learned to be a part of a group within a group and to own the results of my work, both good and bad. As you likely know, a choral group is typically made up of at least four sections. Each section is responsible for learning its part AND integrating that part into the whole. This demands study and practice and then a ton of listening to truly get it right. Done well, and all four of those parts (sometimes six and even eight) sound like they are coming from one voice. When that is achieved it can be a moving experience for the listener. I know it's a transcendent experience for the singers. And, we got there many, many times in the three years I was privileged to be a part of it.

In the years following college, because my choral music experience - my membership on this incredible team, had been so singular, so special, it was years before I even considered joining another group. When I did I was mostly dissatisfied with the experience because it just never measured up. This was troubling for me because of how much I love to sing. My standards and expectations had gotten so high that nothing could meet them and I frequently felt like I was settling for something "second best."

Was it worth it? Absolutely. My collegiate choral experience truly does stand out as a singular period in my life that was "lived to the fullest." It opened up to me the possibility of that kind of experience and for that I am deeply thankful. I hope to find it again in choral music as I have in other parts of my life and yet I know I may be looking for "ways to recapture that spirit" for a very long time.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Contact Hitter

Tony Gwynn

I've been thinking a lot about baseball recently. More accurately, I've noticed myself using a lot of baseball metaphors. I think it started a few weeks back when I took a swing for the fences and ended up hitting a run-like-hell-and-barely-beat-the-throw-to-second double. Since then I've been working out some ideas on impact, progress and change. My conclusion is that real change only happens one single (one bunt?) at a time.

When it comes to lasting change - in an individual or in an organization - there is no such thing as a home run. One swing can certainly determine the final outcome of a ballgame but it's all the pitches, catches, strikeouts, walks, steals, tags, slides, rundowns, pop-flys, groundouts, hits and errors taken together that make it a complete game. You don't get the chance to end it unless you've gone through everything that must come before. And, sometimes, just when you think it's about to end it just keeps on going (witness Yankees v. Angels in Game 2) and you need to find yet another way to bring it to a close.

Unlike a ballgame, however, for each of us and for any organization that is "built to last" there is no final out. Our ballgame is about sustainable results over time. Trying to accomplish that with one big swing is just poor strategy, a recipe for short term growth and long term decline.

My new mantra is to "hit for contact." To develop as I hope to and to influence change in my company, I am focused on each distinct opportunity, each conversation and interaction. How can I advance this runner? Wha's the best way to get on base in this situation? How can I just put the bat on the ball in this moment?

Post script: baseball actually is the best example...just think of what's become of Bonds, McGwire and Canseco.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Falling Down

I fell down yesterday. Seriously. Literally. Fell right on my rear end. And, this was no minor, stub-your-toe-and-stumble-to-the-ground kind of fall. This was a late-night-sketch-comedy-worthy, prat-fall of the highest order. I don't want to brag, but Will Ferrell and his ilk can only dream of falling this well.

The beauty of this fall is not only how dramatic it was and how long it lasted but, of course, where and when it occurred. I had just finished presenting to the 50 leaders of my company. The group had moved into conversations at their tables and in my efforts to roam around the room and listen-in to the conversations I backed right into two banquet chairs. What ensued was a backward motion, cartwheeling-arms-flailing, center-of-gravity-defying, two-chair-tumbling, feeling I just might be able to pull out of it, tailspin of certain ruin. It was big. Fortunately, I only scraped up my leg a little bit and, once on the ground, certainly aware that I had gotten most of the room's attention I yelled out "I'm OK!" as loudly as I could. Laughter followed disbelief. (One just doesn't expect this sort of thing.) And, ego slightly bruised, I got back to the business at hand.

Did I mention that I had just presented to the leadership of my company? Senior team, Vp's, directors. The whole lot of them. This is relevant because what I was feeling at the time of the fall was a biting sense of disappointment in myself. I had big plans for this talk - plans to show up authentically, to relate some stories, to really engage the group. And, I didn't. I operated from fear.

During my talk I was describing the difference between employees who "just get the job done" and those who are creative and truly engaged in the work. I used a music metaphor to describe the difference: one is just playing the notes while the other is really making music. There I was, after my talk, roaming about the room, thinking to myself, I played the right notes but I didn't make music. And then I fell on my ass.

I am told that Freud once said "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." So, maybe the fall has no meaning. Maybe it had nothing to do with how I felt about the talk. And maybe the two go together like peanut butter and chocolate, a perfect but unlikely pair. One punctuating the other in a totally unexpected but highly relevant way.

I know the talk went better than I can admit. And, I know I fell pretty hard. The thing is, I also got right back up again.

I can't wait to try again.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

"To Be of Use"

a poem by Marge Piercy

To Be of Use

The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a
heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things
forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who stand in the line and haul in their places,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

(with thanks to Kate Graham)

Monday, August 31, 2009

What I Think vs. What I Say



We signed my daughter up for soccer this year. She's 5 years old and she doesn't like to run. We've told ourselves, out loud and in quiet, that this is an experiment. That we have no expectations. That we want to expose her to "this kind of stuff" because it may be helpful in her physical and social development.

She has attended three practices and two games. At practice she is participating with the other girls: running, lots of running and without too much complaint. She doesn't really "get" soccer but she seems to be fitting in at practice and giving it a go. This is extremely encouraging.

As for the games, she refuses to set foot on the field once the game is underway. At the first game, in a particular touching sibling moment, her big brother walked her onto the field at halftime and just sat there with her as if to say "it's not so bad out here." Nicely done, big brother. That said, she's having none of it. We ask why she doesn't want to be out there and she won't say. She just doesn't want to. And it's driving me crazy.

It's an experiment, remember? No expectations, remember?

As much as I repeat these statements I still can't quiet the voice that says, "what if she goes the entire season and never plays in a game?" Or, "what will the other parents think?" I imagine myself explaining at length about her epilepsy diagnosis and the ensuing developmental delays and how this is an experiment and we just want to help her fit in and have some fun. It always sounds strained and gratuitous. I will never do it. But, oh the feelings I have going on about "normal" and what other's think and, not the least of which, what I want her to be versus who she is.

I'm competitive. I want to win. At everything. And that means I can be awfully hard on myself and hard on others, too. With my daughter, winning means slowing down and going at her speed. The thing is, she's amazing. The thing is, practices are going well. The thing is, it's just going to take more time. The thing is, she's who she is and she always will be. And the best way for me to love her is to fully accept that and continue to provide opportunities for her to learn and grow.

How Much Cream Cheese?

For a long time know I've been espousing the importance of personal disclosure and vulnerability as a key leadership trait. I've thought, talked and written at length about the importance of showing up more "fully human" because that's the kind of person people want to follow. Recently, I had the chance to experience first hand just how much this matters and it how it can ground us in our work relationships in ways otherwise not attainable.

A year, maybe a year-and-a-half ago, I shared with some colleagues a story that perfectly describes my style under stress. When I feel out of control, uncertain or unstable my tendency is to over-control. As you'll see, I'm not just talking about micro-managing, I'm talking about getting intense about stuff, really small stuff, that just doesn't merit the energy or attention. I've been doing this for a VERY long time and, thankfully, in the last few years I've started to notice the behavior and, as I hope those close to me will attest, started to change it.

But that's getting ahead of things. A few years back on a Saturday morning my wife and I took the kids to a bagel shop for breakfast. My son, probably 6 or 7 at the time had smeared so much cream cheese on his bagel that there was no longer any bagel. I mean, this kid had piled it high. So, control freak and hyper-intense parent that I was (emphasis on past tense!) I promptly grabbed the bagel from him and began to deconstruct it. I quickly removed the most offensive glob - the mound in the middle that just isn't done in polite society. But I didn't stop there. I proceeded to take one of those plastic serrated knives and scrape this sucker clean. I mean, the only thing left on this bagel were the tracks of the knife through what may or may not have been a pile of cream cheese.

The look I got from my wife was one of utter disbelief. And, after a painful silence, we just started laughing. I'm talking big, hearty, slightly out of control laughter. What I had done was just so bad, so clearly over-the-top that all you could do was laugh. I don't know what was going on with me then, why exactly I needed to exert so much control over bagel to cream cheese ratios. Most likely, I was still in the early stages of learning how to really see myself and feeling the need for control that that kind of examination fully engenders.

Well, as I said, in the spirit of transparency I told this story to a group of colleagues about 18 months ago as a way to describe my ongoing challenge with control needs. Just last week, one of these colleagues came to my office and expressed concern about how I was approaching an issue in our group. It was clear that she was feeling the weight of my control and to illustrate her point she somewhat tentatively reminder me of the bagel story. It was a beautiful moment. Her recollection of the anecdote was perfectly timed to coincide with what's true for me right now.

As I've written about recently, I'm in the middle of a big transition right now. My boss retired, his replacement is in place and I'm trying to find my way through the sometimes muddy and unsettled waters that go with the change. Is it any wonder that I would respond by holding on a little too tightly, exerting just a little too much control? Of course not. And, if I had never shared the bagel story my colleague could never have helped me gain the perspective I need to move through this change more effectively. She brought back to me the thing I had given her, returning it to me so I could look at it with fresh eyes and new learning. What a gift.

The truth is, there's a lot at stake right now. Lots of opportunity for me to ensure that in the absence of a hugely influential leader, the work of coaching and leadership development in my company continues to grow and thrive. What I'm really wondering is if I can be and become the hugely influential leader that I need to be to keep things going strong. Rationally, I believe so. Emotionally? Well, that's probably why I start to hold on just a little too tight.

Frankly, I think it's a good time to hold on a little tighter, to make sure what we've got going here isn't all cream cheese and no bagel. The good news, freshly reminded as I have been, is that I'm equipped to watch for my tendency to reach for the plastic knife.

(Seriously, he had WAY TOO MUCH cream cheese on that thing!)

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

This is Wellness

I wrote this to kick off a wellness initiative in my organization. I hope you benefit from it, also.

Ours is an aspirational, achievement-driven culture. It is a culture of winning marked by a strong belief in what is possible with a community of people focused and passionate about accomplishing great things.

We want the best for our organization which is simply another way of saying that we want the best for ourselves. Our company, our teams and our colleagues need and want us to be at our best so that our organization can be at its best. This is wellness.

Both an individual and a community effort, wellness is more than “ideal” physical dimensions, rigorous exercise and Spartan diets. It is much, much more. Wellness is about being our best physical, social, emotional and professional selves so that we can live the lives we want to live. And, it is about creating and sustaining a vibrant, energizing and results-driven workplace so that all of us can benefit from our mutual success.

As we begin a new conversation about wellness, a conversation we hope you will sustain over the coming months and years, we will be using language that represents four key elements of wellness for our culture. These four elements are not exhaustive but are the ones we believe matter most to each of us, most of the time. When we Move, Play, Listen and Achieve we are pursuing wellness, we are moving towards our best self. Read on to learn what these words represent and their significance in this new conversation.

Move.

When we move we know we are alive. It is through movement that we get where we are going. Be that walking, running or jumping; dancing, golfing or cycling, moving well is both deeply gratifying and deeply connected to our well-being. In our definition of wellness Move is all about our physical being: our bodily health and our efforts, large and small, to achieve physical well-being through forms of movement, nutrition and activity that are appropriate to us and our individual situation.

Play.

We are social creatures. Introverted or extraverted, we all need and rely on others to bring greater satisfaction to our existence and to bring greater meaning to our lives. There is a deep, proven connection between healthy relationships and healthy living and it is through our social networks and activities that these relationships are formed and sustained. Play is about all of the ways we interact with others to satisfy our deep and enduring need for the enjoyment of life – the laughter, connection and energy that comes through positive interactions with others.

Listen.

We all have highs and lows. We all have strengths and challenges. And we all have the opportunity to develop ourselves for greater impact in our relationships and in our work. When we Listen to ourselves we become aware of our inner workings, the emotional drivers that can hijack us in times of stress and fulfill us in times of joy. When we listen to others we become aware of how our internal state impacts those around us, sometimes for the best and other times, well...you know how it goes. To listen well is to learn. And learning about self and others is at the heart of emotional wellness.

Achieve.

We believe that people need to find meaning in their work. We further believe that each of us wants the satisfaction that comes from professional accomplishment; that when we have the opportunity to apply our learning, talents and experience to a cause we believe in, we are more engaged and more fulfilled. The pursuit of professional wellness is the desire to Achieve in a manner consistent with our values, goals and beliefs. It is the coming together of place, position, purpose and people in a way that truly sustains us as we feed our families and fulfill our dreams.

Move. Play. Listen. Achieve. You will see, hear and experience these words in action in the coming months as the conversation about wellness takes on further definition and clarity for each of us. Until then, you are invited to consider how these words have meaning for you today and how they might inspire you to imagine a new definition of wellness – one that helps you to become your best self.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Magis

In the Jesuit tradition the phrase "magis" (mah-gis) means "the more." It is taken from "Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam" a Latin phrase meaning "for the greater glory of God." The term refers to a philosophy of doing more and it is an expression of both aspiration and inspiration.

As an alumnus of a Jesuit university I remember experiencing "magis" as an emphasis on learning not only for one's own sake but out of a greater responsibility to self, others and community. In the year's since, as I have pursued deeper professional learning and a multidimensional, more layered understanding of self, "magis" has taken on added meaning and significance. As I consider it today, I am drawn to appreciate "the more" as that part of me that is untapped, undiscovered and perhaps, as yet, unimagined. I believe it is what will result from the knitting together of the many elements of my emotional, spiritual and physical experience. I see it as the realization of God's plan for my life - "the more" that He sees in me and for which He desperately longs.

"Magis" is not about completion or arrival. Rather, it is about discovering new possibilities, figuring out how to connect them to what exists and appreciating the result, the newly emerged piece of your tapestry.

And then, it's about doing it again.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Leadership Development POV: Part Two

In Part One, I addressed the "how" of Leadership Development. In this piece I describe what's at stake. Why does it matter if leaders develop or not? What's in it for them, their followers and the organization itself?

Leadership
A developing leader has self-knowledge which allows them to lead with “compassionate realism” (R. McKee, HBR 2003). They are willing to divulge the vulnerability of the growth process (I am unfinished, I am not yet fully formed, I will never get there but I will maintain an authentic willingness to try); people are more attracted to – willing to follow – leaders who are BOTH functionally competent and fully human. It’s the unfinished part they reveal that reminds each follower of the unfinished part in them. It gives permission for that unfinished part to be acknowledged and respected, not hidden or denied. A developing leader is actually practicing leadership.

Environment
A leader who shows up as more “fully human” creates an environment for more humanity to be present. If more humanity is present, more presence is possible by all who work in the environment. There is less worry about the past or the future and more energy and focus on the present moment. This is a more creative, thoughtful and innovative place to be. A developing leader is consciously creating the environment.

Engagement
As a team member in such an environment I can offer more of my best-self; I can bring more ideas and creativity to my work because I am not concerned about what I am not, I am concerned about what I am and what that can be. When my best abilities are appropriately matched to challenging work, I am most fulfilled. And, when I am called on to continuously evaluate how we can get better, I have the chance to influence how we grow and change, deepening my sense of engagement in the work. A developing leader inspires engagement in the work of her followers.

Innovation
When my creativity is unleashed through my engagement in the work in an environment that values the best I have to offer, results will follow. Innovation is the result of creative thought being guided through effective leadership so that possibilities can be made real, put into practice for the benefit of the business and all its stakeholders. A developing leader creates the conditions in which creativity becomes innovation.

Leadership Development POV: Part One

My point of view on leadership development begins by answering the "how." Part two will explore the "why" or "what's at stake" that makes leadership development so important for organizations today.

Part One is about desire, decision and the work of development. These three "D's" are the essential, non-negotiable components of leadership development. All three must be present for anything to change.

Desire to change, to satisfy the internal longing to go from where I am today to where I want to be tomorrow, is the granddaddy of them all. Without desire change is nothing more than an accident of time and exposure. With desire new worlds become possible. A leader who "wants" to change because he or she is "supposed to" or because that's what the culture expects may get a little ways down the path. But until real desire is present real change will not happen.

Decision represents the moment of truth. The moment when, after considering all of the internal and external forces at work against me (and aware that there are plenty more one cannot see), the leader decides to move, to take action and to own the results. The internal forces may be doubt, confusion, pain, fear, confidence or loss. The external forces may be relationships, politics, organizational changes, global recession or pandemic. Whatever they are, the decision point is the choice to confront them.

Development is the act of engagement in the work of individual change. This may happen independently, but more likely happens with specific support and some combination of resources, tools and plans. This is the actual doing of the work. The tedious, messy, dirty, grinding, one foot in front of the other, work of development. As David Whyte says: "if the path ahead of you is clear, you're on somebody else's path." It's when the leader is picking her way around the brambles, stepping in the mud, swimming through the whitewater, that she knows she is "in" her development.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Out of Sync

Have you ever been in this place where some aspects of your life are just cruising along, full steam ahead and other areas seem stuck in the mud? It's this weird dissonance that doesn't make a lot of sense when you're in the middle of it. It just doesn't seem possible that there can be so much momentum in one area and so much inertia - or the feeling of inertia - in another.

And, yet, that's where I find myself.

Part of why I know this is that it's been over two weeks since I last posted a blog entry. And it's not like nothing's happened in the last two weeks - a boatload of stuff has happened, plenty of material has been sitting there, waiting for me to put it in play and.......I have simply been uninspired to do so.

Actually, I think my last post on "Separation" took a lot out of me. In truth, the subject matter is so powerful to me that I've had to just retreat for a little while to let it sink in. The fact is, I'm dealing with a loss and it's taking me time (more time than I'd like!) to get it sorted out. And, the more I think about it, the more I see that the "sorting out" was hijacked by a flight into activity.

Just a few days into my new reality I boarded a plane to the east coast - I had a terrific weekend in Manhattan, followed by a wonderful day at the New York Times where I had the chance to talk about coaching, leadership, engagement and innovation; I then caught a train to Boston for a few days of meetings and then headed home for a great weekend of reconnecting with the family in the summer sun of San Diego.

All that good stuff gave me sanctuary from dealing with the emotional impact of recent events. And, when I arrived back at work on Monday morning it's no wonder that I felt disengaged and disconnected. I was forced to stare this new situation right in the face and didn't much feel like doing so. So, here I am a few days later, reflecting on it all, both sobered and amazed by the truth that these transitions, these separations, these changes are just hard. And, aware though I may be that I'm in the middle of one and that it will all get sorted out in good time I still get very clever at trying to force the issue, make the healing go faster, make it all better right now.

In closing, with astute self-awareness noted and chronicled, allow me to channel my inner 5-year-old: "make it better RIGHT NOW!"

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Separation

Today is my dad's birthday. His favorite number was "7" and so here on 7/7, when he would have been 77 I can't help but chuckle at how much satisfaction he would have been feeling, especially at 7:07!

The truth is that my dad left when I was pretty young so I didn't have the benefit of a "full" or "complete" father/son experience. We mended our relationship over the years and made something pretty good out of it but by the time I was really getting my adult life underway he slipped into the clutches of Alzheimer's. He died when I was 29 but it was really over a few years earlier.

On the day he died, my first-born child (a son, of course) was just three days old. In the same hospital, at approximately the same time, one generation passed and made way for another to emerge. 

Long before that day in the hospital 10 years ago, and every day since, I have lived with the pain of childhood loss and separation and its manifestation into adult adaptations, some productive, others less so. It's taken me a long while to forgive myself for the negative ones and to understand that I have simply, though not easily, been going through my own healing to get to a place where I can stand on solid ground, accepting what is mine to accept and committing myself to breaking the old patterns of anger, impatience, arrogance and regret. This remains a daily struggle. 

The new pattern that is emerging is one of possibility and acceptance, one of renewal and growth, one of confidence and presence, one of patience with and understanding of self.  As you may know from your own experience, each new loss, every fresh separation, is a reliving of all the old ones. When we grieve, our sadness is not located solely in the present but in all of our past losses, those deeply significant touchstones for the regression and progression that marks every life. 

I am sad today because of a fresh loss I am experiencing. My mentor, friend, colleague and boss of the last four years worked his last day today and hits the road tomorrow to begin the next chapter in his life and the life of his family. This remarkable man challenged me every day of the last four years to believe about myself what he so readily believed: that I have all I need, if only I remain willing enough and courageous enough to build the confidence to use it. All he did for four years was expect and challenge me to locate within myself the next level of learning and development. With his support I have attempted exactly that and, if you read my entry of July 1 you will understand that it is, in large part, his steadfast belief that has brought me to this point of massive opportunity in my life. I know I've done the work and that lots of "significant others" have played a part but he was the catalyst, the essential spark, and for that I will remain deeply, deeply thankful. 

And so, his departure taking place as it does, fittingly and painfully, on my dad's birthday, is an opportunity to experience the old losses and to see myself as I'm today, "full and against a wide sky" (to paraphrase R.M. Rilke). I am whole. Not complete, but whole. I am on solid ground and, being so, I can feel and express the pain, honor its significance and place it in a long line of separations and losses, the natural accompaniment of a life lived out in the open.

Thank you, Blake.

I love you, Dad.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Halfway

Six months down, six months to go.

2009 is sliding by awfully fast and at this mid-point I find myself thinking about what's been and what will be. Time and dates are pretty arbitrary aren't they? I mean, July 1 (or September 12 or October 29) is as good a day as any to make new commitments and define new goals. A New Year's resolution is romantic but it's really just one of 365 opportunities to decide, plan and act.

So, on the first day of the second half of the year I owe myself a quick reality check about what I've done about my 2009 development plan. My mantra this year is to "Expect More" of myself and others. Specifically, to actively pursue my goal of becoming a a credible, inspiring and respected speaker/presenter on leadership, employee engagement and organizational culture. This has required more risk, more candor, more presence and more commitment. Here's a quick list of what's happened so far:

1 conference presentation (February)
1 journal article (March)
1 MBA student roundtable (April)
1 webinar (June)
1 consulting engagement (July)
1 keynote (August)
1 association presentation (pending)
26 blog postings (March-July)

That's exactly eight more such activities than last year and what's especially gratifying is that four of these things came about simply because I asked the question: "Do you need a speaker at your conference?"; "Do you need any leadership development support for your MBA students?"; "Do you have a client who would like to hear about my work when I visit the east coast?" And, to evidence the generative impact of getting started, two more items on this list happened as a result of something else - the webinar came from the conference; the keynote came from the roundtable. Cool.

Looking at the back half of the year my goal is simple: keep going. Continue to "expect more." Continue to ask the questions. Continue to learn from each experience. Continue to refine my voice and my message.

Continue.

Monday, June 29, 2009

The Sentence: Do You Have One?

Peggy Noonan's column in Saturday's Wall Street Journal centered on a story Clare Booth Luce told about a conversation she had with President Kennedy in 1962. Noonan writes: "She told him...that 'a great man is one sentence.' His leadership can be so well summed up in a single sentence that you don't have to hear his name to know who's being talked about. 'He preserved the union and freed the slaves,' or, 'He lifted us out of a great depression and helped to win a World War.' You didn't have to be told 'Lincoln' or 'FDR.'"

Could you become so identified with the goal you are trying to achieve that upon hearing it everyone will know it's yours? What would it take to make that happen?

Let's really try and localize this concept for a second. Forget Lincoln, FDR, Kennedy and Obama. You may do something on that scale and that would be incredible. But let's keep it a little more down to earth for a moment: you're a leader in your organization, you are committed to learning, development and change and you are determined to have significant impact in your department, your company and/or your industry. What are you willing to do about it? And are you ready to be identified as "that leader," working on "that goal"?

For the last four years I've been urging the leaders (and aspiring leaders) in my company to determine the thing that matters most and make a plan to do it. Everything else is extraneous, a distraction, a nuisance at best and a hiding place from doing the real work at worst.

And, I've struggled with this as much as anybody. I've been vague, uncertain and downright fearful of stating my intention and clarifying my outcome. And why? Because if I say it someone actually might expect me to do it. What that doesn't factor in is that those same "someones" may also want to help me make it real. Go figure.

So, in the spirit of moving out of the darkness and into the light, here's my sentence: "He inspired leaders to be more fully human and to create organizations that unleash human potential."

What's yours?

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Stretched by the Web

Last week I led a webinar, a live online learning event for leaders and those who help them lead. I spent one hour seated at my desk, staring into a tiny camera (one little green light urging me on) and sharing a story I love to tell. I talked about how we've attempted to build a culture of leadership and learning in my organization through the practice of coaching. How we aspire to inspire every employee to be fully engaged in their work. That the workplace can be a place where we realize our best selves - a place that stretches us to exceed our expectations and move closer to our dreams. If only leaders will lead.

As an exercise in communication, storytelling and presentation this was among the most challenging experiences of my career. I'm better for the stretch, and really gratified for the experience of it, but this was a damn hard thing to do. I expected it to be awkward to talk to "nobody," to have no physical audience, no people with whom to interact, banter, laugh and explore ideas. And it was. But the toughest part was sustaining energy for that much time with no feedback, only a few questions received through online chat to let me know I wasn't alone. But I did sustain it and I'm proud to say so.

Sitting here on the other side of it, I am thrilled to have shared the story and eager for the next opportunity to do so. I hope you'll check it out and pass it along.

http://businessleadernw.com/davidberry.html

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Human Progress (?)

A stirring example of the speed of human progress – the technology view:

1903 Orville & Wilbur Wright stay aloft for 59 seconds

1927 Charles Lindbergh flies across the Atlantic in 34 hours

1969 Neil Armstrong walks on the moon

A stirring example of the speed of human progress – the developmental view:

50,000 years ago: the human search for meaning begins; males of the species find it difficult to admit being wrong

2,500 years ago: the human search for meaning continues; males of the species find it difficult to admit being wrong

Today: the human search for meaning continues; males of the species find it difficult to admit being wrong.

If we hide behind our work, our technology, our stuff, we surely forget where to find real meaning in our lives. Say "I'm sorry" today, forgive someone today, have a real conversation today. You won't regret it.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Beautiful Mess

Over the weekend my daughter took a big purple marker and left her signature on the book I've been reading. A book that I borrowed from a friend (sorry, Marlene!). I responded angrily and while I'm not proud of my response I'm really happy that I know why.

At some point in the last few years I learned to notice that my reactions to messiness are an indicator of my emotional "state of the union." When I overreact to something so predictable as a child writing in a book it tells me that I'm projecting some internal discomfort, some feeling of being out of control. It helps me to stop and take stock of what's going on inside that's not sitting well, the unprocessed or unfinished emotional business that I am not too excited to look at.

So, what is going on? The truth is that I've made a handful of commitments in the coming months that will stretch me in new ways as a professional. It is my anxiety about those events and the fantasies I've concocted about them that are unsettling. My rational mind knows that my preparation and my abilities "in the moment" will make them successful and enjoyable experiences but my emotional side isn't so easily satisfied. It wants to act out in pursuit of "perfect" (quite the opposite of messiness) and keep me focused on control.

When I overreact to mess; when I think perfect is possible; when I attempt to control the uncontrollable; that's when I know I need to slow down and notice the anxieties and uncertainties that are keeping me stuck. As I get better and better at trusting these markers I am able to move more quickly back to creativity, back to presence in the moment, back to being in flow, back to the beautiful mess.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Bella

Avery & Bella

I learned last week of the drowning death of one of my girl’s pre-school classmates and it has impacted me deeply. It has impacted all of us deeply. It is especially painful because of the innocence and the vulnerability. It is especially painful because our girls miss their friend. It is especially painful because every new loss forces us to confront the losses of the past and to anticipate the losses of the future. 

My only intention is to honor this brief but beautiful life. A life that intersected with the lives of my daughters in the simple playfulness only small children can share.  A life that touched me only briefly but, in death, has changed me forever. I am resolved when I say that I am determined to make something of this loss. My fears, insecurities and "playing small" feel so irrelevant in the shadow of a life cut short. I am more determined than ever to confront self-doubt. I am more determined than ever to not let my life go by without doing all I can to suck out the marrow. 

And what I know to be true so far is that it is desperately hard to do this. I need help - through accountability, challenge and encouragement. And, through the simple playfulness that only small children can share. I humbly ask for your help. I will return it to you as best as I'm able.

"A bruised reed He will not break. And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish." Isaiah 42

Monday, June 1, 2009

Rest Stop or Cul-de-sac?

In a business environment and certainly in other venues as well, there is an obvious imperative that when we take time to focus on developmental activities the time has to be well spent. I wonder how often this is the case? I have long advocated the importance of taking "time out" to slow down, collect our thoughts and make a plan to move forward more purposefully and confidently than before. But, the "time out" is not enough. It's great to take it, but it has to be used well. The Orlando Magic orchestrated a perfect plan coming out of a timeout at the end of Game 2 (execution is a subject for another day). They worked on the right thing and it damn near worked.

The image I've been thinking about to illustrate this is the difference between a rest stop and cul-de-sac. The former is a place where you stretch your legs, make a pit-stop, think about your route - how far you've come, how far you have to go, when you'll need fuel, food, another break, etc. And, all in plain view of the road that is going to take you there. At a rest stop, we never lose sight of the action, the context, the flow - we just step out of it for a little while to get better prepared to re-enter in a new way.

A cul-de-sac is a dead end. It is anti-flow. It's a termination point typically arrived at after multiple changes in direction (wandering) away from a primary route. I don't know of too many cul-de-sacs from which you can still see the main artery. Of course, this is not universally bad, but in the context of professional development activities, it's a disaster. When we find ourselves in a developmental cul-de-sac it means we are colluding to separate ourselves from the larger question of how this specific work is connected to business needs. Of how my getting better is going to matter. The job of a good coach or facilitator is to allow enough wandering to feed the creative process but not so much that we just feel good and tell ourselves that it's productive.

What it really comes down to is the desire to change. If we have it, rest stops are obvious. We know we need them and we know that they are a means to an end, not an end in themselves. If we don't have the desire we are more likely to end up in cul-de-sacs, following clever routes of disconnection and denial, wondering if someone will show us the way but secretly hoping no one asks how we ended up in this part of town.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

I'm a leader. Now, where do I stand?

Old school answer: In front. Commanding, controlling, directing the action. Demanding respect, not earning it. Invulnerable and impenetrable. Extrinsic motivation. Results? Yes. But it's compliance, not commitment and it can't be sustained. (And nobody really likes you.)

New school answer: Behind. Supporting, encouraging, challenging. Soft, sappy and sweet. Vulnerable and transparent. Results? Maybe, but only because your people are supplying their own intrinsic motivation. (Oh, and you think everybody likes you.)

What we need, people, are leaders who can nuance, integrate and moderate their approach instead of either being stuck in one position or swinging chaotically from one to the other to the confusion of all. We need leaders who can move, literally and dynamically in the moment to a position along the "In Front/Behind" continuum that is appropriate to the person and the situation.

OK, then what's the best angle of attack? How about alongside? How about a position which allows, with just a half-step adjustment, for a leader to show the way or get out of the way. A place where our leader can just as easily set the table as do the dishes? A position which promotes shared responsibility without sacrificing the clarity that comes with a leader's added context. A position which allows the leader to disappear into the background just like mom or dad letting go of the two-wheeler for the first time. "Did I really just do that by myself? I thought you were right there with me."

"Well, I was and I wasn't."

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Glee!

The Scene: a suburban community center meeting room, 40-some, 40-ish adults sitting in rows of folding chairs. I stand up and say "Hi, I'm David." The group responds "Hi, David."

I continue: "Like many of you, I was just sitting there watching the final performances of American Idol, not really wanting to get off the couch, when it happened. Glee happened. An hour later I was irrevocably hooked. I was in. I was smiling and laughing out loud (and on a Tuesday!). I was downright gleeful. If the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem I'm here to say I have a big problem: I'm in love with Glee!

Applause and a chorus of encouragement from the group - "Way to go, David!" "Thanks for your courage!" "Stay strong, man!" "You can do it, David !" "We're here to help."

How many of us are there? How many of us are wondering: can I really have been the target audience for that show? Really? How did they know? Honestly, I'm not sure how good the show even is, I'm also not sure I really care. I just know how it made me feel and I liked that feeling a whole lot. (Major caveat: I was/am a massive choir/musical theater geek so this is not an "ex-jock to show choir," Conversion-of-Saul kind of thing).

The show made me realize how jealous I was of the "tweens" and their "High School Musical" hey day. I kind of liked the first one, but I couldn't admit it, no way. But not this time. This time I'm speaking out. The damn show just hit all the right notes with me. (That was awful.) It made me smile and it made me laugh and it reminded me of all of the creative, youthful energy that's still in me, in all of us, looking for a way out. That's worth a lot.

Where's the glee? A friend posted a comment about her joy in watching her child play on a trampoline. Bouncy glee. My son hit an inside-the-park-home run on Monday night. Major league glee. We host an annual badminton tournament. Champagne-soaked glee. My daughters jumping into the swimming pool. Mid-air glee. My wife completing the breast cancer 3-day. Making a difference glee. Two friends are completing MBAs next month. Completion glee. A friend is inspired by Tom Petty. Free fallin' glee.

And, as I sit here thinking of these examples I find I'm falling short. I'm not even scratching the surface. It's out there, I know it is. But there's something in the way of finding it and feeling it as easily as I did when I was 16 or 6 or whenever. Too serious. Too much work. Too much responsibility. Too much self-importance. Too much furrowing of the brow.

I just want glee. More of it, more often. And I need your help. Where's your glee? Do a little inventory and let me know, would you? Let's inspire each other.

(Oh, and you can watch the first episode of "Glee" on fox.com all summer long - check it out!)

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Go Slow to Go Fast

My daughter has epilepsy. Her seizures began at age one - very brief, frequent shuddering spells which we later learned were small bursts of electrical activity that overwhelm the brain and interrupt the flow of information. Kind of like the really loud, obnoxious guy who elbows his way into what was a meaningful conversation with a friend.

Fortunately her seizures were small and with none of the frightening side-effects so many people with epilepsy live with every day. That said, it became clear pretty quickly that her episodes were impeding her development - consider how long it takes you to do or learn anything when you are constantly being interrupted - and so we found ourselves in the world of neurologists, sleep-deprived MRIs (super fun!) and medications we were told "aren't really meant for small children but are the best we have to offer."

At age three our daughter qualified for support from the local school district to work on her speech and language delays. We found ourselves in another new world, the bureaucracy of county and state-funded support services. It took us awhile to sort things out as these resources aren't exactly well-published and once you get started it takes persistence and curiousity to successfully navigate the landscape.

We learned that the centerpiece of any support is a learning contract called an Individual Education Plan (IEP). At the outset of services and on an annual basis thereafter all the stakeholders in our daughter's education, depending on the specific types of support she needs, weigh in on both her progress and on new goals to be established for the coming year. It is a laborious, time-intensive and slow process. And, it works. We had a two-hour meeting yesterday to discuss our daughter's transition to kindergarten. It was a thorough and detailed look at her progress over the last year as well as an opportunity to discuss the best environment and services to help her "access her education" (my newly adopted IEP lingo) in the year ahead.

At an emotional level, these are very hard discussions to have. We, like every other parent we talk to, want our daughter to be "normal." We want to save her from the labels and categorization that are so easily attached and so difficult to remove. That said, I feel extremely blessed that we have people in our lives who want to help her overcome and succeed. That there is a system in place, cumbersome though it may be, dedicated to her development. It was in the middle of that thought in the middle of this meeting that it became painfully clear to me why it's so hard to get development right in our organizations. Processes and initiatives that are slow, involve a lot of people and require complete individualization for greatest impact aren't exactly welcome in the private sector.

That said, if we really want to help our managers manage effectively and our leaders lead with purpose and passion, we need to get intense, individualized and involved in learning plans that create real goals with real outcomes for real impact. No, bureaucracy is not the answer but neither is the excuse that business moves too fast for us to take the time to do the real work required for learning, development and change to occur.

Here's a recipe for your consideration:

Mindset: Go Slow to Go Fast
  1. Involve the right people - who has perspective and feedback that needs to be considered?

  2. Write a plan - focus on strengths, gaps and the full context of business needs

  3. Track progress - stay in the conversation over time

  4. Revise and renew - keep the plan relevant to individual and business changes

  5. Review progress and do it again

Monday, May 11, 2009

Two Poems by Kay Ryan













TICKET

This is the ticket
I failed to spend.
It is still in my pocket
at the fair's end.
It is not only
suffering or grief
or even boredom
of which we are
offered more than
enough.


DOUBT

A chick has just so much time
to chip its way out, just so much
egg energy to apply to the weakest spot
or whatever spot it started at.
It can't afford doubt. Who can?
Doubt uses albumen
at twice the rate of work.
One backward look by any of us
can cost what it cost Orpheus.
Neither may you answer
the stranger's knock;
you know it is the Person from Porlock
who eats dreams for dinner,
his napkin stained the most delicate colors.

Constancy

Last week I wrote about a pattern of change in my life - four year cycles of education, exploration, and employment. I recognize in reviewing these cycles that during each one I was gathering critical information to successfully transition into the next phase. In small and large doses I was picking up knowledge, wisdom, emotional intelligence, self-awareness, confidence and purpose with each pass I made. And now, as I'm confronted with the end of yet another trip around the cycle, I am asking a new question: what if I don't continue this pattern? What if, instead of a change of scenery, I embrace constancy - the recognition that in this time and place there is more to be made out of the bits and pieces I have cobbled together into this thing I call my vocation?

These questions got me thinking about the artist, Andy Goldsworthy, and the themes he introduces in the book, "Time", a collection of photographs of his work. He says the following:

"Whenever possible, I make a work every day. Each work joins the next in a line that defines the passage of my life, marking and accounting for my time and creating a momentum which gives me a strong sense of anticipation for the future. Each piece is individual, but I also see the line combined as a single work."

I take reassurance from this that all of my cycles are connected. I am creating my own line of work and my own unique momentum toward the future. But then he goes on to say this:

"Time and change are connected to place. Real change is best understood by staying in one place."

His point here is that you can't fully appreciate the passage of time and the changes that take place where you are if you don't stay put and participate in it. Is four years enough to figure that out? In plenty of cases, sure it is. In others, no chance. My thought is this: the more you learn about a place the more you can impact it and, over time, appreciate, adjust and nuance your relationship with it. That there is a reward inherent with local knowledge - an intimacy that rewards us with the opportunity to offer and satisfy more of our best selves.

Finally, Goldsworthy says this: "I have tried to pitch my life so that I make the best use of my time and energy. Perfection in every work is not the aim. I prefer works that are fashioned by the compromises forced upon me by nature, whether it be an incoming tide, the end of a day, thawing snow, shrivelling leaves or the deadline of my own lifetime."

His acknowledgement of the compromises that are present in all endeavors is so significant. There is no perfect. There is only the best possible "right here, right now." I happen to practice my vocation inside an organization and we all know that organizations are wrought with compromise. The best ones are led by people who make the right compromises work for the most people to get some important work done. David Whyte has written that "there is no organization large enough for even one human soul" and yet it is within organizations that so much of human progress has been made possible. Go figure.

There is a powerful "and" emerging in all of this. A sweet spot that is about both constancy and change. After all, cycles wouldn't be cycles if we didn't know they'd be coming around again.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Four Years

Here's a pattern I recently noticed about my life:

Four years of high school. Fun. Social. Involved in everything. Interested in leadership and performance of all kinds (choral music, student body president). Not so much academic discipline.

Four years of college. Fun-ish. Social. Involved in too much. Interested in leadership and performance of all kinds (choral music, fraternity president). Burnout. Not so much academic discipline.

Four years in first job. (I did hold another job immediately after college but it was only a 1-year gig and to spend anytime describing it would mess up my pattern, right?) I was a fundraiser for my alma mater. I really liked being on campus. I really didn't know anything about fundraising.

Four years of career "wandering." This is the point at which I left the University environment in favor of...nothing. Just left. Sort of a "find my calling" exercise that resulted in a string of additional fundraising jobs - the arts, human service, education - only to finally realize that I wasn't any good, nor did I wish to be, at asking people for money. This is also the period in which I joined a start-up in an account development role (a.k.a sales) which is, shockingly, an awful lot like fundraising. YOU ACTUALLY HAVE TO ASK THE CUSTOMER TO DO SOMETHING like, say, BUY YOUR PRODUCT. I didn't like that very much.

Four years at next job. Now this is where it gets fun. I was laid off from the start-up. Not much of a surprise since I didn't much care for the sales part. However, within a week I had an interview with a leadership development consulting firm doing, you guessed it, account development (a.k.a. sales). [Quick tangent: I am fascinated at how certain types of professional organizations use "account development" as a euphemism for "sales," like sales is dirty and we're too good for that. Curious.] Now, I know you're thinking I should have learned my lesson but, alas, I was finally in a field, if not a role, in which I was actually REALLY interested - hooray! And, I was successful at morphing the job into one that allowed me to present, teach, facilitate and coach, the stuff I really wanted to do, or so I had recently discovered. (Not a complete surprise when one reviews the high school/college interest in performance/leadership development but that was too obvious for me to latch onto at the time.)

(Almost) Four years in current job. OK, so I take all of that great facilitation and coaching experience and I land a great role with responsibility to formalize leadership development, primarily through professional coaching, in an industry leading organization. Pretty sweet deal. And it's been the best learning experience of my life. And, as of August 1, I'll be in the job four years.

Like I said, I recently noticed this pattern.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Imagining Elephants

One evening, a couple of weeks back, I was relating to my wife the events of the day at the office. We were in the kitchen getting ready for dinner and our 5-year-old was quietly taking in the conversation. Specifically, I was describing a particularly difficult conversation in which I was involved during which neither person was able or willing to name the most central and important issue. It was a frustrating conversation and definitely fully loaded. In sharing this with my wife I stated that there was "a very large elephant in the room" and that we weren't able to name it.

The next evening, probably while getting that same 5-year-old ready for bed, she looked up at me and asked: "Daddy, how did that elephant get into your office?"

I laughed very hard and very long. I so wish I could have been inside her imagination for that 24 hour period. What must it have been like in there, imagining a very real, very large elephant taking up residence in my office? How must that have looked to her? The struggle at some level of her conscious thought between what was totally and utterly possible and what simply did not compute?

She reminded me of the power of imagination. Of the innocence and safety required to see things with fresh eyes and to ask questions when things just don't make sense. And how we, as leaders, have a deep responsibility to cherish, protect and encourage the biggest thoughts and the toughest questions.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Why now?

I was reading my recent post,"Getting Started", and it occurred to me that I left a very important question on the table: why now? What's changed in my exterior on interior world that would cause me to say, "Yes, I have to do this and I'm starting now." Especially after being so defended against this kind of "risk" for so long, what shift has occurred that would allow the permission to express myself and my ideas?

The first part of the answer is that I've received exactly the right kind of feedback I've needed and was supported in making really good use of it. About four years ago, when I was just three weeks into my current job, my boss told me that I was arrogant. I was so angry I couldn't see straight. Of course, he was right. He had pierced the facade of "super competence" I had created as a way to mask my deep insecurities and doubts. He gave me some tough medicine and he stuck with me, helping me to understand how others were seeing me and challenging me to take the hard, initial steps of self-confrontation.

The second piece of the answer is that I found the right tools and resources to support my efforts at self-awareness. Personality assessments provided valuable clues but it was really the energy of gifted and caring mentors, a coach and therapist that made the difference over time. These "resources" are people who know how to be present with me and facilitate my learning. Since all development happens in relationship, it is no surprise to me that this is such a significant part of the answer.

The third element is persistence. This is about just sticking with it - getting on a path and taking steps forward, one conversation, one insight, one piece of understanding at a time. Consistent feedback, great resources and meaningful relationships made persistence possible for me.

As I was considering this combination of feedback, tools and persistence I made a connection to the movie "The Shawshank Redemption." A turning point in the film is when "Red", played by Morgan Freeman, challenges Tim Robbin's character, sentenced to life in prison for a crime he didn't commit, to "get busy living, or get busy dying." As Robbin's "Andy" discovers the possibility of a way out he is liberated long before he reaches the outside. Driven by his desire, armed with a small tool and aware that the stone walls of his cell had been softened by time and weather, he painstakingly picks his way through the wall, clearing a path for the very real journey to the next chapter of his life. His most important tool, however, is himself. As his path becomes clear, he builds on and strengthens his inherent genius, curiousity and spirit, making it possible for him to face each new challenge with more confidence and determination. Ultimately, he crawls through 500 yards of shit to reach the outside. A minor detail with so much at stake.

My biggest learning from all of this is that what seems so fast or sudden is really the product of determined effort over the long haul. My new-found freedom of expression was actually years in the making and each step of the way I was building up my own inherent genius, curiousity and spirit.

I am out of prison. I do not plan to return.










Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Getting Started

One of the common themes I hear in my work as a professional coach is the difficulty of getting started. People are motivated. They are clear. Yet, they just don't know how to begin. The trend that I see is that the end result, the goal, the finished product seems so big, so significant and of such importance that it just doesn't seem possible. There's just no way to make "that" happen. So, why start?

I think this is where the wisdom of "begin with the end in mind" can really get people stuck. If the "end" I imagine is a really big deal to me (one I probably have some pretty good fantasies about that may not resemble much of the reality once I get there) it might just freeze me up rather than free me up to start moving.

Take a look at the first entry in this blog. It's dated May 14, 2007. And it's a poem. A fantastic poem, no doubt, but a poem just the same. As in, not an original thought by David Berry. I put it there to help me get started, to serve as a marker for what it was I was trying to do with this blog. And, nearly two years later, I actually started blogging. Now, I ask you, what the hell took me so long?

The answer is quite simple: I didn't believe I had anything valuable, new, interesting, substantive, novel, witty, PERFECT to say. Yes, my "end in mind" was that I didn't dare to start blogging until I had it all figured out. So, I didn't. When I spoke at a conference this past February (www.businessleadernw.com - check it out for 2010) I shared a similar story with my audience. I told them that the reason this was my first conference presentation EVER was that I had convinced myself that I didn't have enough to offer, that I wasn't ready that I, here it is again, didn't have it all figured out.

What it took me so long to figure out is that a huge part of getting started is knowing that where I am right now is enough. This is enough. I am enough. For now.

I want to be a highly regarded speaker and presenter at significant events on the topics of leadership, coaching and organizational culture. And, with that magnificent end in mind there are two things I know to be true. The first is that if I say it and do nothing it will never happen. The second is, if I say it and reach out for the next opportunity to practice, it just might.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Towards Resiliency

I had a great conversation yesterday with a group of MBA students about resiliency. We discussed how every setback we encounter provides us with a choice: to assume responsibility or to play the victim. Clearly this was a timely conversation for these students as they prepare for leadership roles inside organizations at a time of so much uncertainty. 

Our conversation focused on the steps we can take to build and practice resiliency. It takes a focused and consistent effort to increase our capacity to deal with setbacks and to bounce back well and it starts with acknowledging reality and assuming responsibility for our part in creating that reality. Next is the challenge to separate facts from stories, to quiet the fantasies we create about why something bad has happened and get clear on what is real in the situation. From here we can start to explore our willingness to risk again and make a plan to act that will help us step forward with confidence and a new resolve. 

This is not easy stuff and it's certainly not easy to do alone. But, with the help of a respected mentor, a thoughtful and involved manager or a qualified business coach it's a lot more likely that we will come through our disappointment better-equipped to face the next one.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

So Simple, Even a 3rd Grader Can Do It

One of the particular joys of fatherhood at this time in my life is having a 9-year-old son who plays Little League baseball. While there's all kinds of ways for dads and sons to connect and build a strong and lasting relationship, baseball holds a special place for me and my son. I didn't even play much as a kid but I certainly remember those all too rare occasions when my dad and I would "have a catch." Sure, I romanticize it plenty, but something about this time together provides an opportunity for interaction and conversation that just doesn't happen as easily anywhere else.

So there we are last week, having a catch in the late afternoon when my son offers up with some pride that he was recently selected as a "Team Captain" in his 3rd grade classroom. He was chosen to lead the "Gold" team in an academic competition that will play out in the coming months. Not only is he the captain of the Gold team, he shares, but his squad has already taken a commanding lead over the languishing "Blue" team.

"How did that happen?," I ask. And he tells me that he was very careful about how he selected his team. So now I realize I'm at one of those moments where I'm going to learn something of real value from my child and he's more than ready to share a recipe that has become painfully obvious to him. Here's his selection criteria (with my interpretation in parentheses):
  1. people who don't get "pink slips" (3rd grade language for people who stay focused on the task at hand)
  2. people who are good at things I'm not good at (shoring up my weaknesses with other people's strengths)
  3. people who treat others with respect (no interpretation necessary)

To say I am proud of him is to say too little. What blew me away was how easy it was for him to recognize what so many of us have such a hard time getting right. Jim Collins told us in "Good to Great" to "get the right people on the bus" and yet we let it get so complicated. Can they do the work? Do they complement my skill set? Do they care about others and demonstrate it?

Oh, and the last thing that was obvious to him: "I chose as many girls as possible."

Genius.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Expect More

Late last year I was flipping through a "Time" magazine when I stumbled upon a column by Michael Kinsley called "The Leader We Deserve" (http://tiny.cc/6lTc4). I was reading along, marginally interested, when I came across the following lines:

"One attribute we don't need, although commonly associated with greatness in a leader, is empathy....What we need instead from a leader is astringency. Astringency means telling people what they don't want to hear and leading them where they don't want to go. It's not comforting people about their current situation and reassuring them it will get better. It's telling them that the situation is likely to get worse and that only their efforts can determine how soon it will start getting better. "

In leadership coaching we talk an awful lot about the importance of confrontation. About how when we collude with our clients about their situation we keep them stuck. And, why? Because confrontation is uncomfortable. And, if we are not confronting - either as coaches or as leaders - nothing will move and nothing will change. The client or team member may feel better because someone listened but they won't have to experience the discomfort of accountability which motivates so much meaningful progress.

When I read Kinsley's words, I realized that I hadn't been playing big enough. I decided that now more than ever the best kind of help I can give to my clients and colleagues is to expect more. My goal in every conversation, in every interaction, in every venue is to ask the next question, to use empathy as a platform for confrontation, not as end in itself, to shift the conversation away from blame to one of responsibility. Let me tell you, it is not easy to stay intense about this and I give myself an "A" for my progress so far. Most importantly, I am deeply encouraged by how much actually happens when I say the "un-sayable" or ask the "un-askable."

Thanks, Mr. Kinsley.

Monday, April 6, 2009

How messy can you get?

Distributed leadership is messy. There's no two ways about it. If you are a leader committed to creating an environment of the free and safe exchange of ideas and perspectives you are going to get splattered with mud and muck. If you are a leader who believes that your role is to create the space for deeper conversation about bigger issues you will get dirty. If you are a leader who believes that when conflict gets managed well it produces energy and motivates stronger connections and new thinking, you will be covered in grime.

This filthy mess is simply the price of admission for leaders who believe that extrinsic motivators don't hold a candle to those intrinsic drivers that compel most people in the right environment. I know it's not fair but it's just the way it is.

Alternatively, you can keep things clean. Go ahead and rely on hierarchy, title and position power and you'll stay pressed and fresh. By all means, keep the focus on you and take all the real responsibility - you'll be neat as a pin. Definitely keep the conversation limited and the exchange of information to a trickle and you'll be spotless. At the first sign of conflict, forget about candor and confrontation and you'll remain immaculate.

Sadly, too many leaders play this kind of defense, holding up their spotlessness as some kind of prize: "Look everyone, nothing happened to me today!"

Yes, I know, getting dirty can be tough and unpleasant and downright painful at times. And, in a society obsessed with perfect - Jennifer Hudson and Yo-Yo Ma faked it? Are you kidding me? -leaders who live in the mess will stand out because of something altogether different: they will make it possible for others to do their best. And only the best will follow.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

"What is trying to happen?"

I'm in Santa Barbara this week, attending an annual coaching conference offered by the Hudson Institute. Today's session was about working with relationships in systems and helping members of those systems (including ourselves) manage the inevitable conflict that occurs when different people with different needs start to pull in different directions. As we began to work through a model for conflict resolution we explored a powerful question: "What is trying to happen?"

What is present in this system (relationship, team, organization) that is expressing itself in this conflict? What change or shift or transition needs to be made that this conflict is calling our attention to?

I recognize that I am especially drawn to this question because I am in the middle of processing a conflict of my own - a recent loss that feels abrupt and painful. As I reflect on this simple question I begin to ask what this loss is trying to show me. I find myself appreciating in the pain of the loss the powerful answers that are emerging around opportunity and possibility - that I am challenged to simultaneously hold and work through the loss as I respond to a significant pull towards a bigger self.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

"It is unimaginably hard to do this..."

If you haven't already done so, please find some time to read David Foster Wallace's commencement speech at Kenyon College (2005).

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB122178211966454607.html

I must stay present - in this very moment - to be fully alive.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Distributed Leadership

The following description of Distributed Leadership is the work of Gary Heil, with a few additions by yours truly.

Leadership is the responsibility of every employee. We cannot afford non-leaders at any level in the company. We, therefore, are not given our ability to lead from our bosses. The opportunity to lead is a right given when we are hired. The authority to lead is granted by those we hope might follow.

Distributed Leadership does not mean that every person gets to make all the decisions that they want to make in the company. It does mean that they have the responsibility to speak freely, to be informed, to challenge, to learn, to invest creative ideas and to fully participate in the process of creating the future. It means that all leaders have an obligation to create an environment where these behaviors are not only possible but an environment where these actions are encouraged and supported.

People who have successfully created a culture where leadership and learning are distributed tend to share a common set of beliefs:

Ordinary people can do extraordinary things.

Under the right conditions people seek responsibility for making a difference.

People would rather excel than be average.

Remarkable people want to work around other remarkable people.

People need to find meaning in their work.

People want their work to matter.

People will contribute more if they are truly satisfied by their work.

People will be more satisfied by their work if they are clear about how to contribute and are able to do so in ways that are meaningful to them.

Leaders have a moral responsibility to create an environment where people can grow toward their potential while making a difference for the organization.

It matters how you play the game: the end does not justify the means.

People want to be held accountable for their contribution.

People prefer positive and hopeful rather than negative and pessimistic.

Trust must be given before it is earned.

People want to get better.

People don’t resist change; they resist being changed.

The way people think is often more important then the tools they use.

People will act as leaders the way they were led as followers.

What you tolerate you teach.

I'd love to hear your additions and your comments and I'd especially love to know that you passed this along to inspire others to make it real in their organizations.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Self-inspired

The first time I truly inspired myself was when I wrote this letter. It was October, 2005 in Santa Barbara and I was a participant in LifeLaunch, a personal discovery and renewal workshop offered by the Hudson Institute. I was there in the mindset of fulfilling a pre-requisite for their coaching program and then I wrote a letter to myself that changed me forever.

Dear David,

I’ve always believed in you and I’ve always known that the special combination of qualities, talents, skills and attributes that have come together to form your personality would sustain you in leading a vibrant, meaningful and exciting life.

Why did you stop taking risks? What are you so afraid of?

Where’s the high school kid who talked his way into meeting Kissinger and owned the stage? Where’s the boldness - the sheer force of personality that changes the energy of a room, draws people to you, creates opportunity and brings you joy? I challenge you to reclaim that. I challenge you to lead the second half of your life – starting now – to deliver what is most essentially you: strength of character, passion for aesthetic beauty, and absolute belief that you can and should associate with the best and brightest minds of your generation.

Stop second-guessing yourself. Knock off this shit about measuring up, comparing, critiquing. Reclaim the 16-year-old and choose that you are going to apply all of that positive confidence and deliberate living in a new and more powerful way. Think about it: with all that you’ve learned - all of your experience, reading and maturity – if you combine that with the risk-taking, possibility-craving attitude of that young man you will be an unstoppable, irresistible force. 

Somewhere along the way you started to play it safe, to stay clean. You got too serious and you dampened the purity of you. I implore you, I challenge you, to lighten up, get dirty and take some risks – model a life lived in exultation and expectation.

I am proud of you.

I want to be inspired by you.

Rivers and Tides: Andy Goldsworthy

I can't recommend this documentary highly enough - for inspiration, creativity, aliveness, presence, learning, development and recovery.


This is required viewing for anyone who influences organizations and their leaders. It is a portal to a way of being within any system that shatters the tired and well-worn patterns we have with our work our workplace and our colleagues. 

A Development Culture is an Innovation Culture

Leaders who are intense about their own development and who create accountability and offer support for the ongoing development of their teams and peers create, perhaps without even knowing it, a culture of innovation.

Why is this so?

Intensity about development means one is willing to take an honest look at oneself, see the good and the bad from a perspective of appreciation and empathy and decide to do something about it. This is a distinctly humanizing act and if others see this and have a chance to participate in the leader's development "conversation" they are more likely to see the leader as fully human (check out the Johari Window). If that's the case they are a heck of a lot more likely to be open with ideas, suggestions and possibilities. They might even give more of their discretionary effort, that part of ourselves we choose to give or not give to our work depending on how safe and open the leader has made the environment. If it's safe and open more gets discussed, put on the table, debated and explored. That's a culture of innovation.

So, what does this mean for our organizations?

It means that we must offer professional coaching, leadership and management development opportunities because we believe - perhaps more boldly, we know - that if more leaders, those with direct responsibility for creating the environment, are more actively pursuing development, more good stuff happens. And, in this equation, more good stuff equals more employees offering more of their best selves to the company every day.