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Failure is not an option!
Failure, this word carries so many connotations. Why do we embrace this word so readily and use it to explain our situations. Failure suggests something is neglected, or misused. Failure from the Latin “fallere” suggests something or someone has been purposely deceived. So should we be using this word to describe our inability to attain our goals. Did we deceive ourselves and others into thinking we could “do it”. Perhaps a better word, or understanding is needed, instead of lauding our failures as a motivational goal.
John Brandon, Inc. Magazine 2016 stated “They live with it, breathe it in, swallow it whole, wear it as a badge of honor, and they like how it looks in a mirror. I’ve learned recently that the word “failure” is part of the problem.” I couldn’t agree more. There is no honor in failure, but there is honor in learning.
We are not failures when we need extra time or resources to understand or achieve a goal. We are not failures when we try and try again. We are learning, we are growing, we are achieving understanding from different perspectives. We are only failures when we stop trying, otherwise failure should not be in our vocabulary. I don’t say my toaster is a failure and expect it to try, try, again after spewing smoke out of it’s top. I accept that it’s “toast” and move on, so why on earth do we describe our learning and growing experiences as failures.
We need to think of our growth and learning experiences not as failures but as learning opportunities. They are only failures if we gleaned absolutely nothing from the event. There is a benefit in every single action we take. We just need to see it and understand its implications in our lives. Even poor choices provide us with clarity if we are willing to revisit the, what, why, when and how of them. Can you honestly say that failing is motivational? Of course not, but learning is. I didn’t fail, I learned, I didn’t fail, I understood, I didn’t fail I regrouped, I didn’t fail, I moved forward(sideways/backwards), I didn’t fail I grew. So, throw out all those cute motivational lines about how failure will catapult into greater awareness and find the ones instead that support, uplift, redefine and encourage without the word failure in them.
The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall – Nelson Mandela
LISTENING
What does it really mean to listen? When my youngest child was 3 years old she needed to touch everything. I was constantly saying “Don’t touch this, Don’t touch that”. One day when I was lecturing her to stop touching things she very politely said “I heard you, I am not touching, I am looking with my fingers”. I was taken aback. She understood what I said and used her own logic to interpret what I meant. It became clearer how she came to this “looking with fingers” concept when we found out she couldn’t see very well. Her vision was so bad she needed to touch to determine what things were. My constant direction to “don’t touch” meant to her, “don’t break”, and in her defense, she never did. She touched with reverence because touching connected her to the world she couldn’t see. In her mind it never occurred to her to tell us she couldn’t see, she assumed we were all just like her. Perfect in every way. We did get her glasses, but she, 20 years later continues to be a very tactile person. She likes to understand the “feel” of things. To know the craftsmanship involved in an objects creation. What if we put as much effort ourselves into understanding the world around us?
When we think of listening, we need to not only understand what it means for us to listen to others but understand how others are listening to us. There are more than 40 synonyms for listening. Everything from “be attentive” to “take under advisement” falls in the listening category. When we listen, we need to make sure we are listening in a manner that benefits not just ourselves but those that need to be listened to. Are we listening with a preconceived agenda, are we listening with empathy and compassion, are we listening with pride? We need to discover what listening means for each of us and how good we are at interpreting the meaning behind the information we have been given.
Here are a couple great TED talks on the topic
STORYTELLING
I had always been a strong believer in story-telling as way to convey a message. I firmly believed that by sharing stories I could explain things in simplistic terms with no bells and whistles to people who might not otherwise be receptive. How wrong I was. I recently took part in a continuing education program meant to increase our awareness of emotions and thoughts, so we could dig deeper and see clearer so to speak. There was a community post, and I shared a few stories to illustrate points I had about victimhood, survivorship, resilience, and hope. The comments I received on my shares were enlightening to say the least.
One particular story I shared was about my own life and how I learned that our own perception of self is essential to creating a positive life. The story described a scenario where I had been hurt emotionally and then recovered, using the situation as a catalyst to grow. I expected everyone who read it to interpret it in the same way. I was shocked. Some people couldn’t get past the initial trauma to find the growth, some couldn’t understand why I would want to share the story, some diminished the stories value, and some offered me hugs and snuggles to make me feel better thinking I was trapped inside my own trauma. A few, a very few understood where I was going with my story. I was flabbergasted.
How could they not get what I was saying? How could they not find the teaching moment in my wonderful eloquent words? Why was it so difficult to follow the story from Point A to Point B and not get lost along the way, or worse yet decide the story has no value to them personally? Wasn’t I the fountain of all knowledge?
These responses made me think about the value of storytelling to teach. Doing what I always do when met with a question I did research. Here’s what I found. I discovered that the understanding of a story is based not on the telling but on the inherent biases, prejudices and personal experiences of the person hearing the story. If, for example, you experienced unresolved trauma, you were more likely to identify with the trauma aspect of the tale, If you had preconceived cultural motivation about the context of the story you would view the story through that lens. If there was any religion bias that would make an entrance and if you just weren’t interested you would not take in the details of what was being said. Meaning there isn’t just the story being told, but the infinite number of stories being heard. Added description and detail doesn’t help the story be more accurately understood since the listener stops listening when they have gleaned the information, they decide is important.
Will I continue to tell stories to teach. Probably, but I will carefully weigh the story to the audience before sharing, because now I know my stories are partially owned by my listeners.
“We’re so complex; we’re mysteries to ourselves; we’re difficult to each other. And then storytelling reminds us we’re all the same” – Brad Pitt
IMAGINATION
I was born with the most amazing imagination. I needed it for survival. I was adopted at birth by a couple who didn’t really want children but did want to look like the perfect family. As a result my older brother (also adopted) and I were pretty much left to our own devices. Couple this with the fact we were the latch-key generation, we knew what it meant to entertain ourselves.
I combatted the loneliness and confusion by creating imaginary friends, anthropomorphized my toys way before Toy Story and wrote page after page in longhand about fairies, space aliens, any otherworldly creature that didn’t live on my street. My imagination also felt there was a hidden monster under my bed, but I came prepared with monster spray. My father found my imagination frightening and saw me as an aberration. I truly felt if he could have returned me, he would have. I retreated more and more into my imagination. It kept me sane in a world out of my control. That retreat into imagination helped me literally survive my childhood and come out better and stronger on the other end because I could imagine a future which held potential.
My children had “Princess Penelope”. She was a character based on my daughter at the age of 4. She lived in a castle surrounding by people who loved her. She had a knack for getting into trouble. We would tell stories about the princess and her adventures as we travelled in the car. If you were a passenger you were required to participate, teenager, child and adult alike, everyone had to take part in adding to the story. Some people started out reluctantly or tried to refuse to engage, but eventually if the ride was long enough they were laughing along with us to Princess Penelope tales. My teenage son sometimes dove of the deep end with Freddy Krueger like chapters and had to be reeled back into a positive space, but it was always fun and constantly evolving and organic. I never once heard “Are we there yet?”, we were too busy fighting dragons, space monkeys and ninjas, weaving rainbows and creating fun.
Imagination allowed me to succeed at a time when I felt at a dead end, to thrive in situations which seemed hopeless and connect with others by seeing what was possible before it materialized. My imagination pushed me to be more creative and believe even a shy little girl could be socially accepted. I gave the gift of imagination to my children so they could see that all things are truly possible. They have run with it and have creative vibrate lives.
“Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it we go nowhere” – Carl Sagan
STOP SAYING “YOUR OKAY”
Headed from the San Francisco to Paris recently I had an opportunity to teach others about compassion. My daughter and I were walking across the causeway from the shuttle stop to the concourse when an older woman in front of us tripped on her cane and fell face first on the concrete. She appeared to have broken her shoulder and injured her face. I reacted as it was happening throwing myself into “first responder” mode. I handed my daughter my backpack, told her to take our two full carts of 8 pieces of luggage and park them in front of her where I could see them and then run for help.
I knelt down and immediately started talking to her as I assessed her injuries.”Can you hear me?” “Can you see me?” “My name is Becca, can you tell me your name?” I immobilized her and put her airplane pillow under her head. I also gathered up all her belongings and put them next to mine for safe keeping. I spent time talking to her, softly but clearly to let her know she was not alone. I continued to assess her injuries without being intrusive to make sure she wasn’t bleeding or had injuries that were life threatening. I made her the sole focus of my life.
My daughter spent over 6 minutes trying to find someone/anyone who could call emergency services on site, I called 911 from my phone. Eventually two airport workers casually walked outside to see the problem. A voyeuristic crowd had formed at this point. One of the workers knelt down next to the woman and said “You’re okay”. I snapped. I responded to them “She is not okay, she is severely injured and requires emergency medical treatment, if you have onsite medical services please call them NOW (in my deepest MOM voice)”. I then followed up with ” She needs to hear what you are going to do to help her and you are here for her, not that she is okay, got it”. My daughter thought I was being a bit harsh and one of the airport workers called me bitch, but the woman squeezed my hand and said “Thank you for seeing me”. I replied “Not a problem, I won’t leave you until we get you help” and I didn’t.
We need to remember compassion is an action, not a feeling. We show compassion, we don’t watch it. We are actively involved in doing for another with no expectation of reward. According to Psychology Today, “Compassion is an empathic understanding of a person’s feelings, accompanied by altruism, or a desire to act on that person’s behalf.” I knew what it was like to be in her shoes and have people try and diminish my pain. I may have been a bit harsh to the airport workers, but I felt that her needs were more important than being socially correct. Perhaps in the future I can do both, but in that moment I was laser focused on advocating for one human being. If I offended someone, so be it.
Finally, emergency services arrived and I was able to head towards my plane. I left her my card in her pocket in case she needed anything. I never heard from her, but that doesn’t matter. My actions weren’t about receiving accolades but about providing help and comfort to a person in need. My reactions were instinctive. I didn’t ever stop to determine if I should help her, I just did it. This was not something I learned from my parents, or my teachers. It is just part of who I am as a human being.
I do believe we can learn compassion from watching others and taking opportunities to practice it when we see the need. Human beings do their greatest acts of compassion when they don’t stop to think before acting. Try and carry that feeling over to performing acts of compassion in every aspect of your life. When you see a need, react, you may feel like you will face embarrassment, or even dismissal, but failing to act has even more dire consequences. Start with small acts of kindness and put your empathy to work.
“My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style” – Maya Angelou
I AM NOT BETTER THAN YOU
He behaved a little differently, so people diminished his need. Does this sound familiar.
On one of the many road trips across the country I took with my children we encountered a family at a truck stop. This family was a bit rough around the edges to put it mildly from my sensible upper middle class background. They were loud, drove an old car, ran around the truck stop with no regard for others, uncivilized you would say. I can think of other words my upbringing would throw up about them, but my immediate perceptions were not kind. They annoyed me.
The oldest child was a teenager. He was laughing and behaving a bit differently than the rest of the children. I could sense perhaps he was on the autism spectrum, he seemed unsure of himself as he tried to participate with his siblings. Then it happened. All 6’3” of this young boy fell down right in front of me, he hit a metal produce cart with his head on the way down and in an instant the world changed.
He had a seizure. His sister who was about 9 started yelling at people to leave him alone he would be fine. Under normal circumstances that might have been true but this time his head was cut to the bone and blood was flowing everywhere. The store opened into a Subway restaurant and then into a full dining area. I bolted into action, dropping my potential purchases and began shouting orders while his sister beat on my back telling me to leave him alone.
I pointed at each of them, “You, get some clean towels “ I said to the Subway worker, “You, call 911” I said to the store clerk, “You, get your manager” I said the stock boy, “You move this stuff out of the way” I said to the customer behind me regarding the metal cart and fruit rolling around on the floor. I took the towels and applied pressure to his head while trying to stay out of the way of his flailing body. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. My children ran in and saw what was happening. My son opted for crowd control keeping the look-y-loos back and my daughter wanted to help, but my fear of bloodborne infections took over and I told her to go outside and walk the dogs.
The boy’s father finally (it was only about 4 minutes) appeared and took charge. He’d been through the seizures before. He spoke softly to his son while holding pressure on his head alternately with me. The seizure finally stopped, and the young man then realized how much pain he was in and started to scream. I was overwhelmed at this point but kept trading off with the father to staunch the wound while his father talked to him softly and tried to calm him.
I heard “Ma’am you can let go” from the first responder behind me. I then started to cry. All the feelings of anxiety, fear, frustration and anger overwhelmed me. I walked outside covered in blood and sat on the curb. The Subway clerk brought me clean wet rags to clean myself. I then panicked about AIDS and Hepatitis. It was an emotional rollercoaster.
My son kept asking me if I needed anything. I told him no; I just needed a moment. We watched the firemen load the boy up in the ambulance and drive away with him and his mother. The father stopped by me on the curb and sat down, his 9-year-old daughter with him. “Apologize to this lady” he said. I told him there was no need, I understood she was acting out of fear.
He said to me “Thank you for everything, but why did you help my son?” I responded that I never thought not helping was an option. I told him I hoped his son would be okay as he went on his way. He turned and said “God, bless you” as he got in the car.
I’ve thought about that question for years “Why did you help?” I could think of so many reasons, it was the right thing to do, he could have died if I hadn’t. But more importantly I thought about how much dismissal someone must have gone through to wonder why others would act on their behalf. I was ashamed.
All of my perceptions about this family were wrong. I judged them on their car, their clothing and their uncouthness as being unfit for my company. I had predetermined they were beneath me socially and undeserving of my time. The universe slapped me in the face when the young man became injured and reminded me “This could be you, or your children, or someone you love”. I was reminded that everyone is worthy of respect, love and understanding. Everyone is worthy of help, kindness, and compassion. Everyone is worthy of acceptance, love, and empathy. We may dress differently, look differently, act differently but we all have hopes, dreams, fears, and frustrations. I learned that day that I am no better than anyone else and hopefully no worse. My actions need to be used to save a life, not judge one.
“By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest” – Confucius
PERSPECTIVE IN EVERYTHING
I experienced a situation recently where I found myself becoming resentful. I could describe in detail all the ways I felt taken advantage of, neglected, ignored, slighted, undermined and emotionally abused. I dwelt on the reasons for feeling this way and how it affected me and my life. At some point, I don’t remember when, I started taking notes to vent my frustration regarding the person in question. I reread those notes today and what I read was shocking.
The entire narrative consisted of how I felt, how I was wronged, but in one entry I wrote about how the other party was alone, afraid and anxious and how without my support they were adrift. It shamed me, because I care for this person and failed to adjust my perception even though I had recognized their suffering. I had continued down Pity Party road without making the corrections I knew where needed.
I had to stop and readjust my attitude and discover all these feelings I was experiencing were due to lack of adequate communication about expectations, and my refusal to see the bigger picture. Once I stepped back and reanalyzed my experiences, I saw them for what they were. The other party was not taking advantage of me but relying on me. They were not neglecting me but giving me the space I had requested long ago. The were not ignoring me, slighting me or undermining me, we were just different people who dealt with stress and anxiety, fear and frustration in very different ways. Our problem was communication and I endeavored to find a way to bridge the gap between us.
It is an unfortunate fact of human nature that we prefer to dwell on the wrongs we feel have been done to us and blame others rather than find our way forward in positivity and growth. We would rather whing and whine than dig deep and analyze our own complicity. Of course, sometimes we are truly victims, but more often the blame is laid on both sides and due to lack of adequate communication. We don’t all perceive and process feelings and events the same way. We each filter events through our own lens of experience and expectations. It’s only when we truly put ourselves in another’s shoes that we move forward and grow.
We will make mistakes and have arguments and often completely miss the mark in our interpretations, but if we commit to understanding the other party and their perceptions of events we can go a long way towards resolving and preventing conflict.
“The single biggest problem in communciation is the illusion that it has taken place.” George Bernard Shaw.
JOY
That feeling of complete elation when everything in life is exactly as it should be. The joy of seeing a new child, of seeing the first blooms in spring, of falling in love or succeeding at a goal. Joy encompasses so many things, our emotions are battling over how much joy we should feel, it competes with grief, fear, anxiety, jealousy and is affected by stress. Joy is a limitless feeling. We experience joy in our souls, our bones or psyche. Joy lifts us. I remember in 2018 waking up in Croatia and jumping of the boat into the Adriatic Sea to swim. The weather was beautiful, the mood was calm, and I was grateful for every experience in my life, negative and positive, which had collided to place me in this space at this time. I was filled with joy and grateful for the good and bad I had experienced in life.
Find your joy today and embrace it. Then go out and share it.
“If you carry joy in your heart, you can heal any moment” Carlos Santana
Intent
Intent, a small simple word but one of the most confusing. For some unknown reason this little word has taken on so many different meanings its original “intent” has been lost. Let’s start at the beginning. Intent is what we mean to do. Our goal, our purpose. Or better yet a conscious behavioral decision.
Let’s talk intent with honesty. People love to say they are honest, they have integrity, they are straightforward and truthful. You can be all of these things but if your intent is to obfuscate, confuse, or belittle another your honesty isn’t worth much. You all know the phrase “brutally honest”. It’s just a way to say what you honestly think while knowing you are causing harm to another. Your intent is to harm regardless of your honesty.
I was recently conducting a retreat in leadership to a small group of three, all CEOs of large firms. They were exploring the idea of servant leadership, something I firmly believe in. I explained the virtues and pitfalls and how it can be a positive economic move for a company in both good and bad economic times. Two of them were familiar with the concept and knew other companies which used this method. One was uninterested, completely uninterested.
I questioned why she was there. She told me the board sent her. As we worked through the weekend two of my guests jumped in feet first and discovered ways, they could implement this concept with their staff and increase their bottom line, retain their current employees and actively participate in their communities. It was exciting! Our reluctant friend sat in a chair in the corner and read a book. Two of my guests realized they actually had cross-compatible business goals and found a way to create opportunities for each other. Our reluctant friend polished off another bottle of wine.
At the goodbye dinner I invited local artisans in to dine with us and share their experiences. One was a former CEO himself, the other a craftsman. They talked about being on opposite sides of the leadership paradigm and how that affected their decisions, sense of self worth and goals.
As my guests left our reluctant friend said to me “in all honesty, you are just an idiot, if my company could make any money being touchy feely with our employees we would, but they aren’t the brightest bulbs in the box. I went to law school, I’m the CEO, this is all beneath me, I don’t need help from you or your little friends”. I smiled and wished her a good night’s sleep.
Somewhere during the night, she must have discovered I was asked to write a follow-up to her board letting them know how I felt she did in the retreat. I never actually do this, and had told them so, as I feel these retreats are personal and private, but she thought I would. She thought I had as little integrity as she did. The next morning, she fawned over me, how she’d thought about it, and I was beautiful, brilliant and smart and funny and could I recommend some literature. Her intent was never to learn, or grow or seek change, her intent was to have her own way and she did so honestly, with contempt and derision. I truly had more respect for her when she behaved abysmally than when she pretended to gain my favor, because at least we saw who she really was.
I honestly don’t know what happened to her and frankly don’t care. I don’t follow her company and have refused requests to work with more of their staff. She will never be invited back but it was a good lesson to my other guests in how toxic intent can be, even honest intent when it is negatively focused. After she left, they stayed a bit longer so we could discuss integrity, veracity, honesty and respect, and understanding than no matter what we do our say our intent is visible to those watching.