"I have to be able to trust you."

My daughters were practicing a dance they made up. They were practicing a complicated turn thing that also had a lot of laughing involved. And I overheard my oldest say to her sister, “I have to be able to trust you.”

I was at the other side of the kitchen and the words struck me as so true.

You have to trust your partner. Your team mates. Trust they will do the work, hold up their end, make decisions consistent with the team goals and brand. The inability to trust diminishes the team's ability to thrive. This concept has been at the heart of every team I’ve lead or been a part of.

If there is a member on the team that can’t be trusted, for what ever reason, then the entire team is weakened. I’ve seen one untrusted person go unchecked and breed distrust and anger in an entire team. It takes a strong leader to course correct that kind of situation.

I started analyzing (as I do) the context in which my daughter said this little gem. She was stating it to encourage her sister to practice the move with her. To “take it seriously.”

So, practice builds trust. My background as a Stage Manager has proved that to me time and time again. After all, that’s just what rehearsals are for. A chance for the team to build trust. To practice and build trust.

If Life was a Dream and this was my dream…

You have to practice to build trust. Practice takes time. It takes effort. It takes showing up and doing the work.

So…show up. Do the work. Make the effort. Build trust. Because as my daughter pointed out, I have to be able to trust you in order for our dance to work.

I can't Juggle, part 2- when to ask for help

In May of 2017 I wrote I Can’t Juggle.

This past weekend we had the opportunity to get away. And as you do on little vacations (or all the time) we decided to treat ourselves to ice cream. The plan was to take the ice cream with us and eat it after dinner. The gal behind the counter offered to put lids on the bowls. Perfect!

Faced with four bowls of ice cream with lids, I had two choices. One was to ask my mom, just five feet away, for help me carry the ice cream. The other was to attempt to carry them all myself. So of course, I attempted to carry them all myself. They had lids, surely I could balance all of them at once…

Almost immediately the chocolate ice cream fell to the floor. But good news, it didn’t open or spill. Not a great tragedy.

But I was reminded, right then and there, that sometimes you need to ask for help. Or more importantly, there is no reason to do it all by yourself when you have help available.

So if Life was a Dream, and it was my dream…

It’s better to ask for help, than to drop the chocolate ice cream on the floor. But also, no harm in trying if the chocolate ice cream isn’t going to spill. But also, the chocolate ice cream was for the youngest child and if it had spilled it would have been the end of the world…so yeah, better to ask for help.

Piloting from the Co-Pilot seat

I’ve started the process of journalling the entirety of my road trip to nowhere. I’m not sure yet IF I will share it or how I will share it. But for me it is an important part of processing the events of the weekend. And then I’ll have to figure out how to move forward.

But there are certain key moments that keep playing in my mind over and over again. On a loop, that honestly probably isn’t that healthy- but I’m working on that.

NOTE: You should read last week’s blog for context before you continue.

Anyway, one of those moments was after our first pit stop. Gas, food, bathroom. I grabbed Subway because that seemed the only acceptable food source. We ate in the car for reasons I won’t go into here.

When my uncle was ready for his sandwich, I unwrapped it and prepped it for eating before handing it to him. Keep in mind at this point he was still driving. When I handed it to him he made a comment about me “mothering him.” It was said simply enough, but I am no fool. This simple comment was a minefield. So I carefully, and truthfully responded, “No, I’m being a good co-pilot.”

And I was. It is something I would have done for anyone who was driving. But also I know that my uncle does not consider “mothering” a compliment and in a way it was a trap (maybe just subconscious). So the term Co-Pilot was very intentional.

As the trip progressed I thought about that interaction. I was stuck in the Co-Pilot seat when I needed to be piloting the plane (or in this case the car). As it became more and more evident that the person in the Pilot seat wasn’t capable of piloting anymore, I figured out how to Pilot from the Co-Pilot’s seat.

Now, there are other layers here. I was trying to preserve a family bond. I was dealing with someone with dementia, so I had to be careful not to argue. I was afraid for my safety but had to at all times appear calm. And most of all, I had to pitch ideas in a way that made him feel like it was his decision until he was ready to hand over the controls. And we got there. It took an entire day, but he eventually let me take control of the situation, right the plane, and turn us around.

If Life was a Dream and it was my dream… this still isn’t my favorite dream. But because of the lens I use to look at life, I can see the lessons layered within. I have more confidence now than before- that I can go in, assess a situation, and turn it around. And I know now that regardless of “my seat,” if I’m a Pilot, I’m a Pilot.

Do you let the “seat” you are in determine your behavior? Do you know who you are?

The Road Trip to Nowhere, Part 1

I'm still processing the weekend I just had. I am genuinely glad to be alive and grateful for the many people in my life that I love. I am extremely grateful that my work family patiently and empathetically listened as I processed through word vomit today. In order to fully process my experiences this last weekend I will have to write it all out. But today is not that day. 

I will instead focus on one small conversation. The point where we decided to turn back. 

The plan was to drive from Portland to Orange County over two days. We got as far as Redding, CA about 417 miles in to the trip, when I suggested that we stop to sleep and then turn back to Portland in the morning.

My uncle said, "But it will feel like such a waste. We just drove to nowhere." 

We were much closer to Portland than our intended destination and for a dozen reasons I thought it was better to turn around than to keep going. I could always fly back home.

So my response to my uncle was this, "We didn't go nowhere. We took an exciting one day vacation to beautiful Redding, ash covered...near the Lake Shasta fires, Redding." My uncle laughed and he soon agreed that it was indeed for the best. 

This was the point in the trip that I stopped pretending to be the co-pilot and just took charge. The truth was we both charged into this road trip with little preparation, no return plan, and no concept of the physical toll it would take on my uncle (and emotional toll it took on me, but that's for another time). So I called it. I changed our course, I rewrote the plan. 

Sometimes we have to turn around. We have to be brave enough, humble enough to abandon bad plans. 

If Life was a Dream, and it was my dream...this was not an ideal dream and I'd really like to wake up. But, also...this was the perfect metaphor for every calculated risk, or fool hardy decision. You have to be willing to drive 417 miles only to turn back to the starting point when it becomes clear that it is the right thing to do. Sunk costs, travel time already spent, doesn't matter. You have to be willing to get over the feeling of having gone "nowhere." There is something to be learned from every trip, even if you didn't get to your intended destination. 

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I called this Part 1, but I  don't know how soon I'll write the other parts of this story or if I'll write them for the blog at all. I have some more processing to do before I do that.  

The Spider Bite was Too Much

The straw that broke the camel's back.

It pushed me over the edge.

Too much on my plate.

Burnt out. 

Enough. 

Everyone has a threshold for how much they can handle, and a choice idiom or phrase to go with it. 

We all go through times that "test our limits." We have a different amount of straws we can hold, a different distance from the edge, a different plate size, a different candle length. The definition of enough, is different for each of us. 

Enough is defined: as much or as many as required (thank you inter-webs!) And once we've had "enough" anything more is too much. 

For me too much was a spider bite. For a year I've been riding the waves of an Uncle with dementia with the waves ever increasing in strength. I said, "Okay God, I except this challenge."  For a month I've been ringing out the details of being in a car accident, car insurance, the "total" loss of my car, and subsequent car shopping (no, still no replacement car). I said, "It's okay, no one was hurt." (And then pepper on an exciting, challenging, and ever changing work life.)

But then I got the spider bite and I said, "No. This is not okay. THIS is too much." 

The thing is, as we find out limits and we hit enough, we also stretch our limits and learn more about ourselves. The spider bite faded. The dementia and car details continued. But without the spider bite I was back to "enough." 

And then this week I got 10 bug bites on my legs...yes...10. But you know what? This time, it wasn't the straw that broke the camels back, or the thing that pushed me over the edge. This time it was just another thing to be dealt with. 

If Life was a Dream, and it was my dream...

There is power in knowing our own limits and to occasionally push ourselves to them and beyond them. And sometimes the Universe will do that for us. And when it does, it's all about how we react. At any time we can get a spider bite and have an allergic reaction. Stopping to tend to it, take care of it, to address it can mean the difference between simple first aid or a trip to the emergency room. 

Do you know how many straws you can hold? How far you are from the edge? How big your plate is? The length of your candle? Do you know what enough is? 

And what do you do on the other side of the threshold?

What would you do with the everlasting gobstopper?

I got to be part of a fascinating group discussion today in which we discussed the portrayal of values and leadership lessons in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (the movie). There are spoilers in this so if you have watched the movie, read the book, or seen the play... maybe do one of those first?

One participant rewatched the movie recently and was struck by the sudden turn of Grandpa Joe. The angry tirade he has at the end when Wonka tells them to leave. I argued (that is way to strong a word, really I just brought it up) the following:

Grandpa Joe's tirade gives Charlie permission to make the "wrong" choice. 

His behavior tells Charlie it is okay to break his own promise, to break Wonka's trust. In fact Wonka's behavior at that moment is daring Charlie to do just that. Much like the other children in the movie, Charlie is watching the adults around him. The leaders. 

But where Charlie differs from the others, is that in that moment in the movie he makes a decision. He decides to be true to his own core values. To do what is right, even though it is a hard choice. To do what is right, even though the leaders around him have given him permission (through their behavior and actions) to do the wrong thing. 

This is what proves to Wonka that Charlie will be capable of leading the chocolate factory. 

And I could go on and on. 

If life was a dream and it was my dream...

The movie, this conversation, are reminders that as leaders our behavior matters. What I do, how I behave, informs those I lead. I've written about this before. But this there's a twist this time. 

As a leader, I need to stay true to my core values, and make the right choices- even when I am getting conflicting messages (or "permission") from the leaders around me. To stay true to my core values I need to know what they are. 

Charlie makes a choice in that moment to be the leader he needs to be. To make his own choice despite the actions of the leaders he was following. He makes a choice that proves he can lead, and he's rewarded with the work. He isn't handed just money or chocolate, he's given the chocolate factory to run, the Oompa Loompa's to care for. His behavior is "rewarded" with more responsibility. And that's the thing about leadership, it is a responsibility. It is a purpose, it is a calling, it is work. 

Are you ready to decide what to do with the everlasting gobstopper? 

Leading to the Outlier, or the 20%

Many years ago in leadership course I was taking, offered by my employer, we were given a piece of wisdom that I carry with me today. 

The lecturer/ presenter drew a Bell Curve on the white board. She then drew three lines. One at the beginning of the curve one in the center and one at the end. The majority of our employees will fall in the big middle section between the two end lines. There will always be rockstars at one end and the unmotivated/"troublemakers" at the other. Nothing you can do will change who they are and what they will be. Who we really effect are those in the middle. The people teetering on either side of the middle line. That is where our influence lies, and yet- she revealed- as leaders we tend to spend most of our energy on the two ends of the Bell Curve instead of influencing the middle to be great. 

In retrospect, I'm not sure I would choose to use a Bell Curve, but it wasn't my presentation and the imagery still holds. 

What are the effects of leading to the outliers? Well if I lead a team of 10, and 2 people take all of my time and energy then I've let 8 go without guidance, encouragement, correction, or praise. Or worse, I'm correcting them all based on the actions of 1. We've all witnessed it, the strange new rule or expectation that the "boss" rolls out for seemingly no reason. I've used a really small sample here to simplify my point. But the same holds true when you increase to 100 and the split is 20 to 80 or if you increase to 1000 and the split is 200 to 800. 

 It gets really easy to get caught up in dealing with the "bottom" 20, basking in the achievements of the "top" 20, and forgetting there are 80 other people that need you. The increase in size makes those 20 -200 people feel significant.

But they are still only 20%. 20% of the people should not be taking 80% of your time. 

So the lesson is, don't lead to the outlier. Don't base your entire style on the fringe cases. 

If Life was a Dream and it was my dream, there are a lot of cases where it is tempting to focus on the extremes or the extreme examples of people. As leaders it is our calling to lead our entire organization (community), not just the outliers. See everyone. Lead everyone. Engage the 80%.