Leadership Soup

"Don't call me 'sir', I'm not a general anymore."

I'm not one to swoon over anyone in Hollywood, with one exception...Robert Redford.  I love his movies with no partiality to young Redford (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Three Days of the Condor), middle aged Redford (The Natural, Out of Africa) or the well aged Redford I saw this weekend in The Last Castle. Though over the years it hasn't hurt that he's not at all bad to look at, his appeal for me is mainly  linked to the characters he plays.  This is why I sat down to watch him in this flick again though I've seen several times before, but this go around I found a different spin to the story.

Redford plays an admired and decorated general who has been court martialed and sentenced to ten years in a military prison.  The warden, the guards and the inmates all recognize and immensely respect him, but he has accepted that his punishment is deserved, shuns the attention, and states that he will no longer be 'fighting anyone, for anything, anymore.'  However, it quickly becomes evident that he cannot help but get involved in the events at the prison; he starts by challenging the punishment of an inmate he befriended and soon leads an uprising targeting the overthrow of the warden for his cruel treatment of the prisoners. 

Like Redford's character, true leaders can't help themselves. 

True leaders find themselves drawn to battle.  It isn't about the title or the power or the prize because, more often than not, there are faster and easier ways to achieve those goals. 

In times of sticky politics, rampant self interest and seemingly insurmountable obstacles, the fire in the belly that brings you to lead is what keeps you coming back for more.  And here is how it looks...

Don't call me 'sir', I'm not a general anymore.
Redford's character chastised an inmate for respectfully calling him 'sir' even though his title had been taken away.  As it turned out, having the title of 'general' wasn't what made him behave like a general.  The energy and courage and desire to rise to the challenge doesn't start or end with a title or assigned authority.

Making mountains out of molehills.
Passion for doing what's right, for fighting even the small battles, and for finding satisfaction in forging the way to make it easier for those that come after you can often go unnoticed and unrecognized.  Finding satisfaction nonetheless is the sign of a true calling.

When the going gets tough on the road less traveled.
It's easy to avoid conflict and even easier to create it and run.  Not only does it take courage face adversity, but it takes a true leader to want to stick around and see it through.

Robert Redford gets to play the part and then move on to the next movie...this week ask yourself if you are playing the part of a leader or if you are a leader.  And can you help it?

Losing and finding stuff

Last month, I thought I lost my luggage.

Of course, I got lost on the way to the airport in the impossible to navigate Minnesota because I didn't realize that the terminals had names and my itinerary had letters...meaning I ended up at Humphrey when I should have been at Lindbergh (or was it the other way around?).  I ditched my car at the Hertz lot in some delusional attempt to turn 33 minutes into enough time to check in, get through security, and get to the gate. 

When the scramble was over, miraculously I was sitting on the airplane, NOT in first class (cause I had lost my upgrade), sweaty and disheveled, and forfeiting my carry on bag to a less than believable flight attendant who told me it would meet me in Providence.

Around midnight, when I dragged myself to baggage claim, I can't say I was surprised when the last piece of luggage was pulled off the belt and I was empty handed.  As I searched the airport garage for my car, I began to silently catalog and mourn...

Two of my favorite pairs of shoes...I loved those shoes. 
A new pair of running sneakers...I had just started to break them in.
My black Ann Taylor jacket...what a great deal I got on it.
Three pants, several tops, bras, socks, makeup....there were so was so much stuff in there.

There is a terrible sadness, mixed with frustration and anger and disappointment, when something is lost.  My favorite poem by Elizabeth Bishop, One Art, speaks of dealing with it...'The art of losing isn't hard to master'...

The next morning as I listened to the 'no status' of my lost stuff on the airline's lost baggage line, I started to plan my replacement strategy.  I began running through what was a priority to buy that day, what could wait until the next trip to the mall, and what was something I would have to search a bit to find something similar.  Then I moved on.

As if the fates recognized my recovery, the phone rang.  Delta had found my stuff, and it was all waiting for me in Hartford (still not quite sure how it landed at a different airport).  After accepting that it was lost, finding it was all the sweeter.  And the experience was a reminder. 

Here it is in Bishop's own words:

'So many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss in no disaster'...
It's easy to give into the emotions, and the appearance of disaster can take over.  Recognizing that it's part of the natural order of things and taking just one step forward gives us power over it.

'Then practice losing'...
Maybe this is extreme, but the point is that the more adversity we face head on, the better equipped we are to manage through it and recognize what needs to be done.

And here it is in my words:

'Celebrate when it's found (or never lost)'...
On those occasions when things go right and stuff doesn't get lost or is unexpectedly found, hold onto it.

Deliberately Deliberate

Each year, as we head into our busiest season at work, I choose a word or phrase that reflects the focus for my organization.  I target something with a basic meaning that the entire team, no matter what position or role, can ground themselves in as the work days get longer and the stress gets a bit higher.

This year, I have been thinking about 'deliberate':
1: characterized by or resulting from careful and through considerations.
2: characterized by awareness of the consequences.
3: slow, unhurried, and steady as though allowing time for decision on each individual action involved.

Too often, our actions are not deliberate.  In haste, due to pressure, because of apathy or just out of habit, we answer questions, perform tasks, and react without taking pause or giving the due attention required...in more instances than we'd like to admit, this is when mistakes and errors (of all shapes and sizes) are made.

So deliberate is a great word to share with my team...deliberate actions, deliberate thoughts, deliberately deliberating...the errors made, not from lack of knowledge but due to lack of focus, will be all but eradicated.

But then I burned my pasta.

It's a simple activity boiling pasta.  I threw in some ziti, set the timer, and used that 11 minutes to get some paperwork done.  Then I realized the 11 minutes had come and gone, yelled for my husband to take the pan off the stove, and then heard the dreaded call from the kitchen 'IT'S BURNING!'  I now have a pan to clean and no lunch.  I also had a minor twinge of frustration that my husband didn't hear the timer and pulled my pasta before it boiled dry...

I'll stop there for self analysis.  I remember hearing the timer go off.  I also remember ignoring it assuming that in a few seconds I could be done with my paperwork and would have multitasked away one chore for the day.  My husband wasn't even in the kitchen.

This was not an example of being deliberate.  And I became painfully aware that it's not as easy as it sounds.  I pride myself on being a successful multitasker and quick and instinctual thinker, but as I thought about the pasta, all the instances of mistakes made doing simple tasks came flooding in...a assumption about an email, a quick reaction (that turned out to be way off base), any number of burnt grilled cheese sandwiches and batches of cookies and toast pushed down for one second more (and the list goes on and on)...

So this week, before I pass along this great word, I need to test my own fortitude.  For those of you who know me, call me out on it.  For the rest of you, call out yourself, and let me know what mistakes you don't make.

Who needs a GPS? Getting lost in Minnesota.

Last month, I went on a trip to Minnesota and got lost. A lot. 

I travel quite a bit for work, and I never get a GPS with my rental car...and I never really need one.  Generally, the directions I get from the coworkers I'm visiting, a quick stop on MapQuest, the little local map they give you at Avis, and some instincts are enough to get me where I need to go.

So I'm not sure what was with me and Minnesota. 

I made about twenty-five u turns, got lost twice (ok, I only went twice) going to the office which was four miles away, got lost four times (ok, every time) I tried to get back to my hotel, spent a ridiculous amount of time driving back and forth on Prairie Center Drive looking for anything familiar, and went 10 miles in the wrong direction when heading to the airport (even with MapQuest directions).

The experience left me confused, doubting my often touted sense of direction, and wondering whether my principled avoidance of the GPS had come to an end.  Once I successfully exited Minnesota and got speeding along on the familiar roads of Connecticut, it hit me how easily this translates well beyond the road and into a way to manage work and life.

Finding my way...
It is often when I don't know where I'm going that I find the greatest adventures and many times uncover things I would have otherwise missed.
Having an automated voice tell me exactly when and where to turn is a great way to lose sight of the things around me.  Trusting my instincts makes me feel powerful, even when I am the most lost.

Forcing myself to find my bearings and understand the landscape has been a large part of my successes both personally and professionally.

Getting lost...
Driving in Minnesota threw me way off.  Route 35E goes north and south, Prairie Center Drive goes in circles, there are detours for detours, and apparently there is more than one route 16.  My instincts failed in a place where the local landmarks were the Home Depot, one of 10,000 lakes, and other office buildings. 

There are times when getting my bearings isn't going to be easy, and it's most definitely risky to assume that what has always worked will always work, especially when the unexpected detour or wrong turn throw off the instincts.  Supplementing directional skills with some formal guidance can serve a very important purpose...most importantly when arriving at your destination is critical and being late is a deal breaker.  Not accepting this is where I've had my biggest struggles.

As always, it's a balance.  Plans and directions and instructions all have their place and necessity, but learning to trust your instincts and forge into unknown territories is where many valuable discoveries are made.

So, Minnesota may require a GPS for now (or at least I'll have it in the glove compartment).

Stretch Goals and Humility (as seen through foggy swim goggles)

I decided to test my mid July fitness level and entered a local sprint triathlon.  I've written about my running in a couple of posts, and I continue to consistently log miles throughout the year...so that covered 1 of 3 legs of this Thursday afternoon workout.  The other two legs, admittedly, were not so covered, but I was feeling confident that I'd keep pace with a portion of the group.

I arrived early and witnessed the ultra fit exiting their cars and trucks; with obvious familiarity, there was lots of chatting...'Did you do last week's race in the Cape?'  This was not the portion of the group for my pace. 

As I was getting my gear organized, I watched the buoy that would mark the swim's turnaround point being towed out.  I started wondering when the heck they were going to stop and then, as it went further and further out, started thinking about how little I had swam this year (ok, 'little' equaling 'once').  In a hopeful act of calming, I waded out into the water for a warm up.  As I was getting out, I ran into someone from work (a very fit someone from work), chatted about the conditions, and realized that anonymity in a local race was a long shot. 

As I headed towards the starting group of goggles and wetsuits and swim caps, I ran into a woman who works in my organization who was there to watch her son compete...my nerves were rising now that my ego actually had an audience (besides my husband who initially questioned my readiness for the event but who was now reminding my growing anxiety that I was in good shape).

During the first half of the swim, I was satisfied with staying with a pack, even if it was the back of the pack that was at the back. However, once I rounded that darn buoy it started to become apparent that my main concern should be avoiding rescue by teenage lifeguards.  I had developed a charley horse in my hamstring, had succumbed to some creative version of the backstroke, and was searching for the shore through what had become severely foggy goggles.  It was now just one stroke at a time and becoming clear that I may be the last to leave the water.

As my feet finally touched the mucky lake bottom and then the beach, I asked my husband, 'Am I the last one out?'...'Yes.' 

No time to worry as I pushed my bicycle across the timing mat.  As I pedaled hard, I looked forward to making up some time and passing a few folks.  Fast forward a couple of miles, and my quads reminded me that I hadn't really rode much yet this year (ok, 'much' equaled 'twice').  Fast forward a few more miles, and the top racers were passing me on their second loop.  As I finished out the 10 miles on my bike, I didn't even ask where I was amongst the 100ish racers...the cheering of my 7 year old godson sent me off on my 5k run with a smile and the last drop of my competitive juice.

So this is how it ended (as I found out the next day when the results were posted)...crossed the finish line 87th out of the 99 racers that finished.  Not bad for a gal who dragged herself out of the water in last place.

I share this play by play because each stage of this race (from the moment I arrived til the moment I knew the results) required something different both physically and psychologically, and reflection over the following week allowed for those basic lessons we should all keep our eyes open to every day.

Stretch it. I knew that I was not well trained for this race, but I had set a goal of completing a triathlon in July...the success lies in finishing, learning, and looking forward to the next challenge.  I was able to keep my goal in mind, overcome the anxiety of failure, and hit a stride at the end that surprised me. 
You never get very far if you'd don't set some stretch goals. By definition, these are the extremely aggressive goals that you may not achieve; they push you well beyond your comfort zone and challenge your abilities, and it's where new possibilities are found both personally and professionally.

Be prepared when you're not prepared. Though I never once prior to the race thought that I'd finish last, I thought it numerous times during the race...I fully recognized as I was laboring toward the shore I was not prepared for the outcome of not being prepared. 
Too often, we don't go into situations with eyes wide open and are surprised, disappointed disillusioned by the outcome.  You can disguise lack of preparation as a calculated risk, but do a reality check to be sure you're ready for the consequences.

Humility and pride are strange bedfellows.  As I crawled out of the water, the woman from my org that I had seen prior to entering was cheering me on as I shrugged my shoulders in my disappointment (MJ...thanks for the encouragement!!); as I  was starting my running leg, the very fit coworker was concluding hers (Kari...AMAZING!!).  Letting go of the embarrassment but finding the strength and desire to push forward was an experience to carry with me.
It's our pride and egos that often drive us to the greatest successes, but those humbling moments are where most of the real lessons lie.

I'm already planning for my next triathlon (and looking for some swimming lessons).

Introduction Malfunction. Who are you, and why are you here?

I was in a meeting last week with someone who I had never met; as the conversation found its way to her, she commented that it was her very first day at the company.  I'm not sure that I asked, but there must have been something in my reaction that brought on what followed.

Over the next three minutes, I'm pretty sure that I received the same spiel used during her interview process (in fact, I was waiting for her to abruptly pull a resume out of her purse and push it in my direction)...at the end of it all, I was left wondering why she felt compelled to introduce herself in that way, a bit bored, and not at all impressed (if that had been the purpose).  I imagine that is not what she was trying to accomplish, nor the impression she was trying to make.

Early in my career, I was often asked to go to meetings where I was the lowest ranking person in the room.  I dreaded the introductions, and the nerves would kick in as I ran through in my head what I would say when it was my turn.  I finally developed a standard 'Wendy Carberg, representing XXX' amongst a sea of titles, roles, and credentials. I will admit that I still get a hint of that same nervous energy during introductions today (when I actually have a title I could use), but I long ago realized that if I was attending a meeting, sitting in a room, or at a function, I had a purpose for being there that didn't need to be justified in my introduction.  I also became aware of how others used the introduction...or in many ways, misused the introduction.

There is some really good stuff out there on the topic of first impressions and making people like you, and much of dedicates a significant amount of time on carrying you through those first encounters and sometimes awkward introductions.  It's definitely a skill to be mastered, but I tend to think there is more to it.

What luck that Coree at Market Like a Chick twittered the Denis Waitley quote 'It's not what you are that holds you back; it's what you think you're not.' 

When you live in a title dependent environment, it's very easy to get caught up in assuring that everyone realizes your level of importance, your place in the pecking order, your reason for sitting in the meeting.  Not to say there isn't a time and place for formal titles and outlining your credentials, but seeking respect and self worth there is a bit dangerous.  Fear of who 'you're not' can be paralyzing.

My favorite meeting introduction of all time is used often by a senior leader I know...simply he states, 'I work in XXX.' There is a humility and confidence that is displayed in this that should be modeled...instead of Vice President of this, Director or that, CEO of my own little world...

As you sit in meetings this week, whether with people you know or those new to you, and the introduction baton is handed to you, take the opportunity to think about who you are and why you are sitting there. 

I'd love to hear what you say about yourself.

The travel hangover...

I just returned from a two week business trip that took me around the world, literally...Newark to Delhi to Chennai to Singapore to Manila and back to Newark. 

As I suffered through some 'reentry' pains over the last few days (bad movies at 2 a.m., bizarre Ambien induced dreams, and midday narcoleptic fits), I struggled to piece together what I was convinced must be a great leadership lesson about globalization, breaking cultural barriers, or opening international lines of communication.  I'm sure there is one, but as I recovered from my travel hangover, I spent more time thinking about how the ten days abroad reminded me of some basics for everyday life.

Don't take the experiences for granted.  I can't say that every moment of the trip was enjoyable; there were long rides in small vans, crowds, unfamiliar smells and sounds and foods, but the opportunity to be traveling, seeing new things, and meeting new people is something to relish.

Enjoy the company. It's amazing what you can learn when you travel with people...the chance to spend mornings, noons, and nights with a diverse group of folks and take the opportunity to see the world through their eyes is challenging and exciting.

Come home. When the trip is over, it's time to go home; it's easy to lose a bit of a grip on reality when you spend hours on planes and live out of a suitcase...share the pictures, tell the stories, write in your journal, and then get back into the swing.

So maybe these are leadership lessons, after all; personal learnings provide the depth and breadth to manage with insight and flexibility.

More to come as my sleep routine returns...

A leadership lesson on control from the dogs on Edmond Road...

I have a favorite running route that takes me by this house with lots of dogs.  I say 'lots' because the frenzy that is this gang makes it pretty darn hard to count them.   I pass them twice during my run, and each and every time they bark, they run, they jump the entire length of their wired in yard as I shuffle by them.

At first, I was irritated that the family that owns this lot allowed their wild group to terrorize those of us that pass slowly enough to catch their attention.   As time progressed, the irritation turned more to a test of techniques to halt the craziness.  I have tried just about everything...ignoring them, running faster, running slower, talking in a sweet, high pitched tone to them, firmly saying 'knock it off'...to zero effect, not even the slightest change. 

Yesterday, as I approached once again, I had a very different experience.  Almost as if in slow motion, I witnessed the familiar scene; as the slapping of my feet hit their ears, this band of dogs rose, listened and bolted (then they barked, they ran, they jumped).  Though their reaction was the same, mine was completely different...this time, I actually chuckled out loud.   There was something about the predictability, balanced with my endless failed attempts to actually change their actions and reactions, that was actually funny.

About 30 minutes later, when I had time to think not only about these dogs, but how it related to the crappy week I had experienced, I passed by them once again and realized I had just learned a fabulous leadership lesson on control.

Just when I am confident that I have mastered my work universe, I am thrown into a week where people, processes, and technology all throw me a curve ball.  I could easily list four different circumstances that led me to some varying degree of venting about how someone or something was a barrier, a distraction or just a plain old nuisance to me and my organization...the common denominator and most frustrating point being that I felt a total lack of control over the situations.  I ended my week without a tremendous amount of satisfaction.

My dog friends on Edmond Road barked and ran and jumped me through the realization that I don't need to control things that don't really matter. 

This is not the lesson about how to 'accept the things I cannot change'...though very powerful in it's own right and well covered in lots of different ways, when it comes to leadership, it is very often about changing things that others have never thought possible.  This is about not wasting precious energy and resources on changing things that are just not important to change.

These particular dogs were loud and irritating, but they posed no danger (they are fenced in) and no real obstacle to completing my run.  My desire to impact their reactions and actions was simply my own need to control my environment.

During this past week, I had situations that were annoying but overall innocuous and situations that need to be addressed to prevent lost productivity, miscommunication, or distraction to priorities.  Knowing the difference is the key.

As a leader, recognize the difference...face the things that matter and step back and let go of those things that, though not how you'd like them to be, have little to no impact on you or your team or your organization. 

This week, with the dogs on Edmond Road fresh in my mind, I will be much better equipped (and in a much better state of mind) to focus my energy where it matters.

There were 49 people in line at the Dairy Queen...it must be spring.

I started this post on March 20th (the first day of spring), and it was called 'Spring Feverish'.

I have a bad case of spring fever.

That's as far as I got.

This weekend, when I started where I left off, my 'originality test' found that people love to write about spring fever and that 'Spring Feverish' was a completely uninspired title.  In fact, the phenomenon that's making me and hordes of others want to put on shorts, clean the garage, exercise, walk to dog, have a yard sale, leave work early and play golf is pretty cliche so I decided to leave it alone.  But then, as a sign, my husband calls and says 'I'm in Willimantic, and there are 49 people in line a the Dairy Queen...it must be spring!'

How could I resist?

The whole idea of new beginnings, rebirth, renewal, rejuvenation, fertility...it's all very tempting.  But comparisons to forsythia, daffodils, and hibiscus (blooming all of ten days, one week, and one day respectively...never mind allergies) or religious symbols or bunnies isn't going to do it.  Like New Year's and it's resolutions, this concept that there's a clean slate or a starting over just doesn't resonate.

But then I found Hipparchus who discovered the equinox.  The March equinox (first day of spring for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere) is one of the two points in the year when the sun shines directly on the equator and day and night are equal all over the world.  This moment of equality is an astronomer's frame of reference...and I found something that resonates.  A point in time that is common to everyone on Earth is profound.

It's not about new beginnings; it's about a frame of reference, a level-set, finding our bearings.  

So I have a bad case of spring fever.  After a long winter in New England, I am happy to see the colors returning, but I suspect there's more to it via Hipparchus. 

All things being equal...
It's easy to get out of balance and lose our bearings.  There is always a point in time the offers a way to readjust the course and get back on track.

A shared point of reference...
It's easy to forget where we sit.  Being reminded that there is a common ground (even if only for a moment) is a humbling way to reposition so we don't fall victim to that dangerous loss of perspective.

Hop in line at the Dairy Queen and enjoy.

Trust in the Time of Cholera

OK, so this isn't really about cholera. This past weekend, I was watching the movie Love in the Time of Cholera (a darn good version of the book by Gabriel Garcia Marquez), and the title seemed to fit because this is about trust, specifically trust during difficult times.  As the pressures mount, understanding the importance of trust and how to achieve it in your surroundings becomes a more difficult task but more critical than ever.

Trust is one of those words that gets thrown around a lot in the workplace.  It's written about, surveyed whenever possible, and the subject of a whole lot of pontification.  Before I post, I always search the internet universe as a gut check on what I'm writing about; it's a sure-fire way to determine if I'm just dredging up the same old, same old as well as to check for perspectives.  On the topic of trust, I wasn't disappointed by what I consistently saw...and this is how I disagree:

Focus more on trusting and less on being trusted.  There is an extreme preoccupation with gaining trust, building trust, keeping trust; however, how often do we reflect on if we trust?  Not until we overcome our own mistrust do we have a chance at becoming trustworthy. 

It's harder than it seems.
Fear, competition, ego, the need to fit in all interfere with our ability to trust.  What we know is possible in ourselves is often what we expect out of others.  How often do you walk out of a meeting and immediately gather to criticize the facilitator?  When you're out with coworkers, how often does the conversation turn to the last person who left?  Do you find subtle ways to trash your boss or squash an opportunity for that eager new employee?

Trust in the workplace isn't the same as trust in your personal life. Don't get me wrong, I have very dear coworkers who I would call in a time of need, tell my innermost secrets to, and run to their side whenever they called, but that's not the type of trust to expect or necessarily seek out at work.  Unless you believe that you can fill your team and your organization with your friends or that you can hand pick your boss, this type of trust isn't realistic. 

But it is the same.
Trust at work is based in honesty, consistency, respect, and all those good things written about and that reside in the definition.  But, there are hard decisions to be made, financials to worry about, evaluations to be given, and expecting trust at work to equal undying devotion, protection, and all things being 'fair' will mislead and disappoint.

As we get leaner and more is asked of each of us, there is no disagreement that a foundation of trust is necessary to build and maintain successful teams, organizations, and companies.  Going beyond a concept often takes some mighty self reflection and self challenging, so for this week it's basic:

• Identify who you trust and why you trust them (you'll be surprised...)

• Eliminate one 'trust buster' a day (give that meeting facilitator the direct feedback)

Oh, and I trust that you will comment on this post!