by Kelleen Griffin
This second tip is designed for those who wish to get sh*t done and know the bureaucracy that usually impedes progress.
There are a thousand books on the different approaches to getting stuff done in corporate America, government, heck, even relationships. They call for us to have *fierce* conversations, and *get naked with our feelings* and *go toe to toe* and *climb into your lifeboat* and last,*'sit knee to knee.*
What is going on? Do we really believe this? Why do we need to have body parts touching in order to be persuasive? Is this the dog park equivalent of sniffing butts? sniff, sniff, sniff....wag tail...translation: good to go...another new friend....I'll send you some pee-mail. Are you on Dogbook?
When we want and need to make some progress and get sh*t done, up here in the world of the two-leggeds, endless consensus building kills initiative.
Here's where I'm going: Read Orbiting the Giant Hairball, about Gordon MacKenzie's twenty year stint in the creative department at Hallmark. Right there in the title, he sets up the inherent conflict. Huge corporation = Hallmark. Artistic, independent thought = Creative department. Result: orbiting the giant hairball.
Gordon details in his very own unique style how he learned to co-habitate in this large corporation. There is a hilarious chapter called, "Milk Cans Are Not Allowed" describing the debate, politics, and people antics behind a corporate RULE (No milk cans in the building) and an artistic REQUEST (using milk cans as wastebaskets). This is a true story, I kid you not. Outcome: borrow antique milk cans from Hallmarks art museum, placing them "on display" and use as wastebaskets.
My negotiations teacher from Columbia would have called the outcome, 'an elegant solution.' This is what I mean when I say 'fly under the radar.'
Yes, one approach could have been to launched a blog entitled "Milk Cans Rule", a website called "Hallmark's Corporate Rules Suck", a petition could have been signed, meetings could have been scheduled, leaders lobbied, a vote taken, and maybe, maybe the Milk Can Rule would be repealed. Cost would have been significant in terms of time and energy.
Option B: fly under the radar. Craft a solution where everyone gets almost all of what they wanted in the first place without all the fanfare.
Learning to 'fly under the radar' is an art. And we can learn it at any stage of our life. It applies to our work, with our parents, siblings, friends, spouses, and neighbors. It is the earnest search for an elegant solution, one that appeals to the self-interest of the constituents while accomplishing the task at hand.
A true master crafts elegant solutions daily.
As far as I know, Emily Post hasn't revised her etiquette guidelines, so maybe we should keep our clothes on, be congruent and authentic instead of fierce, leave the body parts stuff to our four-legged friends, and just fly under the radar once in awhile.
Kelleen is an executive and personal coach based in Seattle, WA who specializes in helping people figure out what they were meant to do with their life. Visit her at www.kelleengriffin.com
You're not locking your arms...
by Kelleen GriffinI'm trying too hard to write this post. I've had an amazing day. I've learned from David and Pamela, I've loved the stories from Caroline and Carissa. I want to write a post about gratitude but I'm not sure where to start. That's surprising for me. Gratitude is usually the first stop on my "happy" train.
So I'm pausing, taking it all in. Truth, I ran straight into a brick wall recently. And by that I mean a full frontal face splash into what I thought was destiny, but really was only an exit sign on the highway. Pissed and confused, I eventually re-grouped. But here's what was waiting for me, the understanding that I was the problem.
I was the problem starting back when I was 9 years old! Something stupid and monumental happened when I was 9. This thing that happened started a strange chain of events that can neither be predicted nor repressed. I will tell you this thing. But I hate it, still.
I wanted to be a cheerleader. Like with a passion I didn't even know I possessed. I was a fat ugly girl. I had no friends at Holy Cross School, but all the fun popular girls were on cheerleading and I wanted to do it. Cheerleading was big business back then, and there was an A Squad and a B Squad. I knew I could never make the A Squad, hell, they did splits, sommersalts, I couldn't even do a cartwheel. And, that was why I failed to qualify the first time I tried out. No cartwheel, no team.
So, I practiced and practiced. I was all over the parking lot at lunch break, using the curbs to compell myself into a cartwheel. I couldn't do it. No matter how hard I tried, how much I watched the other girls, why wouldn't my body do what I wanted it to do. Let me tell you these were not fun lunch breaks...I was snickered at..."look, kelly belly thinks she can be on the team."
Well, this is a fairly old story, right, so I won't bore you with it. Suffice to say, this was personally agonizing but I was determined to do the cartwheel because that was THE requirement to make the B squad. Day after day, I fell. I couldn't do it. I couldn't understand why. Other girls could, why couldn't I?
I still remember the day it happened. This girl who I don't even recall her name, she wasn't in my grade, but popular, broke away from her friends and came over to me on the parking lot/playground and said, "You're not locking your arms."
No one talked to me out there, so I was confused, did she mean me? She said it again, "You're not locking your arms." She began to explain what she meant and to show me. I tried again and fell, but she seeemd so sure if I did this thing, this locking, I'd be able to do a cartwheel. I tried again, and again. And then, just like that, for the first time ever in my life, I did a cartwheel! Geez louise, I did a cartwheel!!!
It felt like magic, I did this thing that no one thought I could do. The news spread, even though this was pre-blackberry, info still got around like wildfire, and soon, it was whispered that I was trying out again for the squad.
Imagine that, kelly belly, trying to be a cheerleader.
Stay tuned for the next part of this story.......The Boss is a jerk....
Okay, so I’m going to do that annoying parable thing now. There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says "Morning, boys. How's the water?" And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes "What the hell is water?"*
Parables are annoying because they delay gratification, because by definition the reader is supposed to go: huh?
Stay with me.
Whether you’re a boss, a colleague or a client, you probably exhibit jerk-like behavior once in awhile. The question is how aware are you of your own behavior and how it impacts other people? Even better, how do you handle a run in WITH a colossal jerk?
Well, I suppose we’d have to define jerk. Coming up with a jerk checklist is pretty easy for an executive coach. Once upon a time, I was ONLY hired to coach the jerks. Now, thank goodness, there’s been a shift in thinking and I get to coach top performers, amazing entrepreneurs, and some true Mavericks.
So first pass at the jerk checklist and this is what I’ve come up with: Do you slam doors? Are you rude? Do you over-react or blow up? Do you embarrass people? Suck up? Cut people off on the road? Stand in the ‘15 items or less’ line with like 100 things? There’s a ton more, but you get the idea.
How did you do? Not you? Phew. Okay so we can put aside “classic jerk.” Ah, but what about “passive-aggressive jerk?”
Here’s a version of this type of jerk – this is a true story by the way:
“I couldn’t believe it. I do her accounting on a part time basis. Show up three times a week for about three hours, pay bills, do the filing, etc. She’s always asking me to help her move furniture, go pick up her stuff, etc. But this one day, I show up and she says, ‘I’ve made your favorite: chicken salad. As soon as you help me rip up the old carpeting and carpet pad in my new condo, we’ll sit down and have some lunch; oh, and afterward, you can help me load all of that crap in my car and take it to the dump.’ My client looked up and said, ‘I’m an accountant. I hate chicken salad.’”
Remind you of anyone you know? Let me guess, you’re thinking about one of your clients right now?
What should you do?
Can’t fix ‘em, right? Oh, I’m sure some of you think maybe you can, but get real. This behavior didn’t just spring up spontaneously in the last few seconds of knowing YOU! This person has probably had tremendous practice with their behavior; there is no way they’re gonna change just for YOU.
You could get mad. Most people do, by the way, but they get mad at other people, after the situation is over. Sucks for the ‘other’ people.
You could ignore it. In which case, your own anxiety grows and grows, anticipating the next time you have to deal with that person and their inappropriate behavior.
You could just do the damn thing they want you to do, and be done with it, all the way mumbling angrily under your breathe and kicking the carpet as you go. Of course, the shame that boils up inside because you didn’t stick up for yourself might crush a little piece of your spirit.
You could say no, or even hell, no! Hmm, there’s goes a client, a recommendation, maybe even a paycheck this month. Sure felt good in the moment, though, right?
You could sit them down, explain that you have chronic sinus infections and that ripping up old carpeting would surely put you in the doctor’s office and on antibiotics; so, unfortunately, you won’t be able to help.
Nothing feels, quite right, does it?
It’s not supposed to.
THIS IS WATER. (We’re back to the parable.)
This is water, people. You’re swimming in it. It’s everywhere. Constantly. All around.
We all walk around inside of a semi-permeable membrane that contains not only our guts, but our experience, memories, and stories. And so does everyone else! Inside my happy membrane, I create a story about you and then I react to that story. You do the same. And let me be the first to tell you that many times when under stress those stories usually have some pathology to them.
So what can we do, you ask. For one we can get educated about ourselves and our internal landscape. Thomas Jefferson said it better than I could: “The most fortunate of us frequently meet with calamities which greatly afflict us and to fortify our minds against the attacks of these misfortunes should be one of the principal studies and endeavors of our lives.”
Study your emotional intelligence.
There are many assessments out there and coaches who use EQ. I have one I really like, it’s powerful and accurate and I use it for myself and my clients.
Go get a map of what happens to you under stress. It is unique to you. EQ is like a fingerprint; no one else will have your exact data. Once you know it, know what your internal blueprint looks like, particularly when you’re stressed out, your relationships have the potential to improve exponentially. That’s good news for indie business owners since our very success hinges on our relationships with others.
Okay so rewind to the Chicken Salad Lady. With awareness of our EQ, we might wonder, hmm, I bet she’s so swamped and scared that her business is going under, and she’s getting no help from anyone, and only has me, and has never learned how to ask someone directly for help. Or, we can make a meal out of it… ‘how dare she ask me to….’ I’m not saying one’s better than the other. I like a good meal once in awhile, myself. But, I also like having choices.
One last thing, this is not the same as the whole ‘turn the other cheek’ thing. It’s infinitely harder. Once you know your unique EQ, you’ll have to practice: stopping for a minute, checking in, reminding yourself that even though you’re sane and having a disagreeable experience, the other person thinks they’re sane too and you have NO idea what they’re experiencing. So you check it out and THEN you figure out what’s next. Takes a ton of practice, but it’s a lot better than defaulting to freak-out mode.
Moral of this story: is the boss a jerk? Maybe, doesn’t matter, that’s her story. What do you want yours to be?
*Parable taken from David Foster Wallace commencement speech, 2005.