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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.