Obstacle Blaster

April 26, 2012

Four Questions to Make Things Work Better at Work

I have long been a promoter of asking questions. [My first book – Tough Topics – is just that; a book of 600 questions intended to stimulate conversation and thought.] What an answer to prayer it would be for wise people everywhere to begin asking powerful, wise questions. For whenever and wherever this happens, happy solutions to what once were intractable problems begin appearing seemingly out of nowhere like ice cream trucks in spring time.

The human mind was specially designed to answer questions. This is one of the reasons why, as we go about our daily lives, our brains are constantly asking and answering questions. We benefit ourselves greatly when we ask questions whose answers are life-giving and that lead to light and better things.

Conversely, we do ourselves no favor when our undisciplined mind is allowed to ask questions whose premise is based in pessimism and, therefore, the answer to such questions can only be negative and lead to more negativity.

That word right there – PREMISE – is the key. In his book, The Secret Code for Success, author Noah St. John points out that the mind generally accepts the premise of virtually any question that it is presented with. Not only that, once the question and its premise has been accepted, our subconscious mind, the part of our brain that is most responsible for our behaviors and decisions, sets into motion behaviors and decisions that manifest the answer to that question.

For example, if you go around asking yourself things like ‘Why am I always late?’you will begin to manifest the answer to that question in your thoughts and decisions and behaviors. Not only will you continue to sabotage yourself by continuing to be late for meetings and appointments, a narrative will flow through your mind that tends to justify your habitual lateness.

Want to change your life? Change the questions you ask yourself. Be intentional about it. Questions lead to answers, which leads to powerful, positive change.

And so the opposite is also true. If the above question gets tweaked to ‘Why am I always on time?’ your brain will work on the answer to that question regardless of whether or not the premise happens to reflect the current reality. Keep asking that question and soon, quite out of nowhere, we might settle on an answer to that question. It might sound something like, ‘I’m always on time because I respect myself and others so much,’ or, ‘I’m always on time because it is one way I can show honor to others and to myself.’

Meanwhile, your behavior will begin to change. Because it’s your subconscious directing the behavior, the changes will appear to you to be effortless and second-nature. If you used to be late all the time, you’ll start showing up on time… without really thinking about it (consciously). If you used to find it difficult to stick to a diet, your better questions will fuel better behavior and the weight will start to come off more easily. And it will stay off (as long as you keep asking questions that support these changes).

Some people see a dramatic, sudden turn around; a reversal of longstanding bad habits. Sometimes the change is more gradual. The key is to keep asking questions – actually to flood your mind with questions – that have a powerfully positive premise.

When it comes to our jobs and where we work, there are a few questions we can ask that are all about creating a turn around. By beginning with these four questions, you can actually make yourself part of – if not be the instigator of – a total culture change within the company you work for.

No, that’s not hyperbole. Even if you’re in the darkest cave, how long does it take for there to be light when you strike a match? Of course, it’s instantaneous. More lanterns, more light. Likewise, each question you ask that is aimed at finding solutions is like a new point of light. Those questions will lead the way.

Below are four questions that will get things going. While these are questions to never stop asking, you will find that they lead to even better, deeper, solution-seeking questions…

Specifically, what is one problem or issue that directly affects me at work?
What are the ways I make myself part of the issue or problem? (How have I been potentially making it worse, or at least not making it better?)
How can I take personal responsibility by being a part of the solution, making that problem or issue go away?
How are things better at my workplace because I work there?

Did you notice the premise of that last question? You may not feel, at this moment, like it is true that things are better at your workplace because of you. However, if you really do feel that way, you need to know that such feelings are lies. You would not have been hired and you would not still be there if you weren’t making a positive contribution to the company you work for.

Look, don’t argue. Just answer the questions and get back to me. If, after three days of dealing with these questions, you aren’t flush with a few ideas, a few possible solutions, some things that lead to light and better things, then, frankly, you aren’t taking this seriously.

All the best answers and solutions are delivered to the mental in-box of those who are really looking for them.

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This article is dedicated to my dear friend and mentor, Clark C. in Eugene, Oregon . A great asker and answerer of many questions. Thanks, buddy. Love you, man.

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April 18, 2012

The Words in Her Book – Part 8

Those few days on Iwo Jima left a lifetime mark on Jacob Jennings. Many who had similar wartime experiences were horribly traumatized and they suffered in one form or another for the rest of their lives as well. During our less-than four years of involvement in World War II, over a third (37.5%) of the approximately 800,000 American soldiers that were engaged in direct combat ultimately received a permanent discharge due to the severity of their psychological issues stemming from the trauma suffered in their combat experiences.

Corporal Jennings dealt with the horror of the trauma he suffered, and mitigated the worst of it, in healthy and productive ways. Aside from the many hours he spent alone, alternating between writing and reading… and praying, one of the best coping choices he made involved other people. After the war, Jennings reached out to help and serve others.

In 1950, he created a non-profit organization that would provide scholarships to disabled military veterans from in and around the central part of the state of Maryland where he was born and where he lived at the time. His charity helped war vets go to college who otherwise would have had fewer employment opportunities due to their wartime injuries and PTSD-related limitations. Following many of the principles he learned from his father and grandmother, he created a few very vivid dreams and used the words in his books – his many journals – to pursue those dreams to their realization.

Creating the Chesapeake Higher Education Program was certainly not Jacob Jennings’ only dream, nor his first dream, he brought to fruition. By 1947, two years following the end of the war, he was running his own automatic car wash; the first in the state. In 1955, Jennings was one of the original members of the newly formed Automatic Car Wash Association. And by that time, at the age of 33, he owned six automatic car wash outlets (3 in Maryland, 1 in Washington, DC, and 2 in northern Virginia) and was well on his way to being independently wealthy.

Jennings used his money and his influence as a dynamic and successful business man to fund and fundraise for his favorite charity (the one he created), which he began referring to as CHEP. The goodwill and positive PR gained by what he was doing for veterans, many of whom became managers of his car washes as well as trusted employees of his restaurants and his property management company, made Jennings even more wealthy. This, in turn, resulted in his giving even more away.

But before all the wealth showed up in his life, he was just a “regular” guy. He didn’t inherit his wealth. He was just a guy who knew how to dream and how to write. In fact, his writing is how he met his wife.

On February 22, 1945, on the third day of the battle of Iwo Jima, Jennings had witnessed the worst trauma of his life when fellow machine-gunner Dale McDonald was killed horribly only inches from him. On the morning of their landing on the little island, Jennings had promised Private McDonald that, if McDonald perished, he would make sure his “Loved One” letter got to his fiancé, Marie Gracier; a letter that he had written to her that would be sent in the event of his death. Jennings kept his promise.

In sending PFC McDonald’s letter, Jacob included a letter of his own to Marie. Of course Marie was devastated. But as terrible and painful as her loss was, she had prepared herself ahead of time as best she could. She had accepted that the worst could happen. In fact, unbeknownst to Private McDonald, Marie refused to consider herself to be his fiancé; not until he returned home, safe and sound. She told no one about this because she knew how cynical and shallow such a mindset could look. We all have ways of taking the edge off pain in our lives, even preemptively, and this was one of her ways.

That said, by the time she received the envelope containing both letters, she had known of Private McDonald’s death for about fourteen weeks. Jacob had taken two weeks just to write – and rewrite – his letter to her. Dale McDonald was a good guy; brave, honest, trustworthy, someone that anyone would be honored to go into battle with. Corporal Jennings was honored to have fought with him and he said so eloquently. He went to great detail in outlining McDonald’s virtues. He closed with an apology for the length of his letter, noting that it was much longer than the letter it came with, saying that she deserved to hear some things that Dale McDonald – in his humility – would never say on his own about himself.

Marie was deeply touched by both letters. Five or six months went by. Marie couldn’t get Jacob out of her thoughts. Not that she was trying. In his touching letter to her, he had written so many things; touching and carefully-chosen words of wisdom that truly helped her put her loss into perspective. Finally, she decided to write back to him. She felt compelled to thank him for what he had written.

She knew the city the corporal came from because he had mentioned it in passing in his letter. She also knew his father owned a dry cleaning business in Maryland. She looked up the address from a phone book at the library and sent Jacob Jennings a six page thank you letter. She told him about her life and how his words – though he didn’t know her at all – helped to put more than just her recent loss into perspective.

Her letter arrived at his father’s dry cleaning business on the only day of the week Jacob worked there. He was speechless. That very day he was putting the finishing touches in a follow up letter to Marie; a friendly “hello” to enquire as to how she was doing. Now, in light of her unexpected correspondence, he had much more to say.

This exchange was followed by a flurry of many more letters between them. The prolific letter writing didn’t stop until they were married, but the written expressions of love and devotion between them continued.

Over the years, the couple exchanged thousands of sweet cards and notes and poems and short love letters; some of them later to be on display at their fiftieth wedding anniversary; three of them read aloud by their grand-daughter, Marie, obviously her cherished grandma’s namesake.

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April 18, 2012

The Words in Her Book – Part 7

At first light the next morning I used my field glass to inspect the cliffs of the short mountain opposite us to the west. I had a hunch. at one point yesterday I took mental note that those cliffs seemed full of pock marks and what if the enemy were hiding maybe shooting from some of those holes. now the position of the sun created shadows that accentuated those holes. they were obviously caves. fairly deep caves not just places where the birds has made nests. sonofabitch I said to myself, the enemy had to be up there knocking us down like wooden ducks at the carnival. right then either luck or providence allowed me to see a few white flashes at the exact moment I focused on one particular cave. quickly, in less than a second, looking toward the open beach without the field glass I saw where those rounds impacted the waterline and about ten yards of beach. also, though faint, I was able to hear the sound that corresponded to that machinegun. I figured they must have had some kind of muzzle on that thing and being in the cave probably helped to obscure the sound. That also explained why we couldn’t figure out where the deadly strafing on the beach was coming from (shrouded in shadows) and why we couldn’t hear it. it was all coming from above us on our extreme left flank where we hadn’t imagined the enemy could be hiding and shooting at us.

I passed this information along and helped target four of these caves. Soon we had two 37mm guns trained on the targets, taking them out. I felt good that my luck would save lives but angry that someone hadn’t figured this out sooner.

Not surprisingly, later in the morning our particular position being so far forward and our guns that were punishing the hell out of them, our posirtion was the first in our area to receive enemy mortar fire. from one exploding shell, several small fragments lodged in my left elbow. then a few minutes later, air burst shells exploded above us. pellets pounded the ground all around us, but none of us were hit. one pellet, about three-eighths of an inch in diameter, split my rifle stock and got lodged inside. I didn’t used to cuss. this bloody elbow pain and close call inspired some chouice words.

After that we were pulled back into reserve again, and the next frontline assignment was on Hill 382, one of the highest hills on Iwo Jima and part of the enemy’s main line of defense that ran across the island. Hill 382 and two other landmarks, the so-called Amphitheater and Turkey Knob, formed a complex of enemy defenses that we had named the “Meat Grinder.” we climbed the side of the Hill 382 in the dark.

The last day and half has been like a flash and eternity together. I will have I am sure nightmares from what I’ve seen. it has been and is a living nightmare. I know I shouldn’t predict it because grandfather you said my quiet mind would make it happen. several times very nearly vomited from what I have seen and heard and smelled. had to force food down for strength. Somebody brought fresh fruit from off shore and that helped. also writing the words in this book keeps the fear away. I cried last night for no reason. I recite scripture every chance I get. I don’t know if out loud or in my head. probably both as I woke myself up quoting the lords prayer out loud and Mongomery telling me to shut up. I lost McDonald today. won’t say how. I won’t ever speak of it except to say we could not find all of his body only maybe half. I know his fiancé’s name. It’s Marie. A pretty name I have always liked. I have his loved one letter. thank God I was able to recover it. and I will add a note to it. I pray the worst is behind us.

The following day, an enemy artillery shell exploded only a few feet away from corporal Jennings as he was momentarily hunkered down in another crater created by a previous artillery blast. While the crater he was crouching in preserved his life, shielding him from the worst of the blast, the combination of the awful explosion‘s shockwave and the terrible noise of the bomb’s impact, like the strike of a mighty thunderbolt, caused a seventy percent hearing loss in one ear and a partial loss of hearing in the other ear. Both ears bled. He heard a steady ringing for several weeks, especially in the most affected ear.

The injury made him of no further use to the military. The battle of Iwo Jima raged for more than four more weeks, the marines gaining more inches, feet and yards on a daily basis. The island was declared to be in the full control of the marines on March 26.

Corporal Jennings was on his way back to the States within ten days of his war-ending injury. On the first leg of the journey home, he was taken on an aging hospital ship out of theater to a hospital in Hawaii. The two day voyage was fairly comfortable as the vessel was a retired cruise ship hastily converted into a floating infirmary for the not-critically-injured, after being donated to the Navy in the months following Pearl Harbor.

During those two days, and the few weeks he remained in hospital in Hawaii before being sent home, he was almost always either writing in his book or clutching it. Once the pages of one hardback journal were filled with his thoughts and reflections, he acquired a new book and continued to write.

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March 28, 2012

The Words in Her Book – Part 6

Marines Landing on Iwo Jima

Starting at 8:59 am, local time, on February 19, 1945, and continuing for 36 days, the little island a fewhundred miles south of the main island of Japan was one of the most densely populated places on the planet. Only about a third the size of Manhattan, the strategic importance of Iwo Jima to both the Japanese who were defending it, and to the American forces who were invading it, made this tiny land mass one of the most important and fiercely-fought-over battlefields of World War II.

Over a hundred thousand men – an eventual landing force of some 70,000 marines versus approximately 30,000 dug-in Japanese – were either fighting to capture and control the island and its three air fields, or defending this vitally important piece of land. Though the strategic significance of some of the battles of this war were not always clear to the men fighting them, the importance of this particular island was obvious to both sides. The Americans needed a base from which to launch air strikes against the mainland of Japan and the Japanese had to prevent that from happening. The many miles of tunnels and rabbit holes from which the Japanese executed their well-practiced defense of the island severely diminished the advantage the Americans had in terms of fighting men.

One of those men was a 23 year-old corporal from Baltimore, Jacob Jennings, leading a squad of machine gunners with a Marine Corps rifle company – Company K, with the 21st Marine Regiment, 5^th Division.

For nearly ten years, on the advice of his grandfather who noticed that Jacob made frequent – sometimes wise and profound – observations worth writing down, Jennings carried a hardback journal and some kind of writing utensil with him wherever he went. In his book, with the little remaining light from the cloudless sky, he wrote the following on the evening of February 22:

came ashore 3 long days ago. no am-tracks near by. when we reached the top of the first steep slope about 15 yards up the beach, we dropped to the sand. six of us pinned down, lying belly down on the beach, looking back and to the west we could see our tractor. when it reached shore, it had got bogged down in the soft volcanic ash real fast and barely cleared the water’s edge. soon enough 20 yards closer, maybe 70 yards from us, another rifle squad was exiting another am-track. when the rear ramp dropped, and the rifle squad exited their vehicle, and the squad leader, Cpl Neil Langdon of Naples, FL, went out to the left, and his entire squad followed rather than alternate right and left as they were trained. I could see machinegun fire hitting the water about 10 feet to their right. it had to be the same gun that was trained on us but where was it coming from? I didn’t know and couldn’t tell. I waved them down, and they dropped immediately. it was strange in that I had heard no sound of machinegun fire. there was no zing of bullets passing overhead and no snap or pop of bullets passing nearby.

later that morning, after we’d moved further down the beach to the right, a single rifleman of Langdon’s squad joined up with my squad. he was very nervous. He told me that Langdon’s squad was just about wiped out as soon as they left the tractor. I realized then that I had never looked back again to see how Langdon’s squad made out. I knew it was pointless to feel guilt about it because I was in charge of looking out for my men and Langdon was in charge of his. I assumed that the machinegun that delivered fire close to my men had been the same one that had taken out Langdon’s squad.

we finally moved on because we couldn’t stay there. after we crabwalked a short distance, I tripped acrossed the body of a Marine face down in a shallow ditch. he was dead. “Lt C.L. N. Barsma” was stenciled on the back of his pack. I knew Barsma, having served with him when he was a corporal back at Camp Lejeune in the early spring of 1943. he was one of several Philippines veterans who joined us in Co L, our so-called “heavy weapons” outfit. when Co L dissolved in 1944, Barsma went into Co G and I went into Co K. Nells Barsma received a field commission to second lieutenant. I write too many details. helps my hand shakes.

PFC Snelling, Rogers, McDonald and I continued up the beach, still moving toward the right, and before long stopped in a shell crater. looking back, I saw a bazooka man approaching. when he was about 25 feet from us, a single enemy shell landed very close to him. we ducked down, and when no other shells fell, I looked back to find nothing but a large crater and awful pieces where the whole bazooka man had been four seconds before. that eliminated the only live Marine I had seen in our area of the beach other than my own men.

continuing forward we later came upon a huge, elongated shell crater, probably formed by one of the Navy’s big guns. Lt Finnegan and five or six of his 81mm mortar men were in the crater. finney called out “Mac, don’t come in, we’re too crowded.” I yelled back that we were just moving through, and with no further words I moved to the far end of the crater, and Snelling and McDonald joined me. later that morning, Lt Finnegan and the men with him were killed.We were in the same platoon at boot camp in Jan-Feb 1943.

we had moved ahead again and joined up with men of Co D. It was there on the third terrace of the black beach that the company commander, Capt Karl “Gus” Gussendorf, was in the process of reorganizing the company. we dug defensive positions far short of our D-Day objective, the O–1 line, at the first airfield which was directly ahead of us. the ash collapsed when a hole was dug. the first night on Iwo Jima was generally quiet except for occasional enemy shells along the frontlines, as well as the usual bright flares overhead fired from 5-inch naval guns offshore.

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February 25, 2012

The Words in Her Book – Part 5

The story isn’t as meaningful without telling the back-story to Matty’s name.

Matty’s parents had the most bizarre argument in naming their newborn. Her father, certain that they were about to have a boy, insisted on the name Chep. That’s right: C—H—E—P. Her mother, certain that she was about to have a little girl, was set on the name Madison… with a “D” in the middle, not a double “T”. But her mother was also equally passionate that no child of hers would ever be named Chep.

“Why Chep? Why, on Earth, Chep?!” she would implore.

“Because I like it. It’s unusual,” her father argued.

The argument never resolved anything between Mattison’s parents. The back and forth continued at least one evening per week throughout the pregnancy. Her mother’s counter argument that “the name Chep is unusual because it’s re-dic-ulous,” just made her husband smile. And that usually… eventually made his sweet wife smile back, shake her head, and walk away, still as in-love with this man as she ever was, sometimes calling him a dork before going to another room to thumb though a baby or parenting-related magazine.

Mattison’s father knew that if he ever divulged where he came up with the name Chep, the naming argument would be lost for certain (which is to say that in his way of thinking, he really believed his naming choice for a boy actually had a chance — in fact, there was no chance his wife would ever agree to a son named Chep).

The fall before Matty’s father met his future wife, he found himself at a conference just outside Washington, D.C. He arrived a day early to do some sightseeing and to adjust to the three-hour time difference from the west coast. The evening before the conference began, he went for a walk. When he returned to the hotel an hour or so later, he noticed the name “Chep” on the reader board in the lobby and he was instantly, inextricably enthralled with it. “Wow. How unusual and manly and… unusual. I like that name. It’s kinda like Shep, like Shepherd… but it’s Chep. Hmm.”

That his rationale for liking this name had about the same amount of logic as beer infused with caffeine was completely lost on him. Some things you just like, though the basis for the liking cannot be explained. Such was the case with Matty’s father’s love of the name Chep.

The only problem (which was apparently no problem to Matty’s dad) was that Chep was not actually a name at all. The sign was showing the names of the other groups and organizations that also had meetings and conferences at the same time as the conference he would be attending for the next two days.

Clearly, the reader board indicated that the Chesapeake Higher Education Program was about providing higher education opportunities to disabled military veterans and is not anyone’s name, nor is it named after anyone. It’s just an abbreviation. Period. C-H-E-P. Chep. So, whenever Matty’s mother asked where he came up with that name and he just claimed that he had just always liked it, he was not being completely honest.

The name Chep was off the table when their little girl was born. As a token gesture, Matty’s mother lovingly suggested to her husband the peculiar spelling of the little girl’s name because both she and he did both like the name Matthew. Hence, Mattison with two “T’s” in the middle, instead of a “D”.

The spelling was clearly a loving concession. Both understood it to be exactly that, although Matty’s mother never said so. Neither did Matty’s father ever acknowledge it.

The morning after Matty was born, the couple shared a quiet moment in the hospital room between doctor and nurse visits and feedings. It was a quintessentially iconic picture of the mother holding the tiny sleeping bundle with the doting father looking on. Matty’s mother looked at her husband and quietly suggested, “How about Mattison. And How about if we spell it with ‘Matt’ in it; like M-A-T-T-I-S-O-N.”

Her husband tilted his head and his face flushed like he’d been paid the most generous, kind compliment. A tear gathered in the corner of one eye and he nodded. “Yes. I like that. Mattison is perfect.”

Hence a girl named Mattison, not a boy named Chep.

To be continued…

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February 25, 2012

The Words in Her Book – Part 4

Marie woke up with a smile on her face. “Late thirties. I like that,” she whispered to herself.

It was still dark out. The sun would rise while on her early morning three and-a-half mile run. She gets up so early most mornings, especially lately, because there is much to do. This is the case all the time in the business she’s in, but more so lately.

The last seven weeks or so has seen a flurry of planning and fussing over what details are possibly being overlooked. There are no second chances to get this right.

It’s funny how a fiftieth wedding anniversary sometimes seems like a well-kept secret; an undisclosed piece of classified information that no one is supposed to know. Funny because such a notable milestone can be known by applying some pretty simple math. Still, it can sneak up on the family and loved ones of those whose golden anniversary approaches. Such was the case with Marie’s family.

A couple months ago, in a casual phone conversation with an aunt, Marie had asked if there are any family get-togethers or celebrations of note in the near future that she might not yet be aware of and that, accordingly, should be in her calendar.

Her aunt chuckled and said, “I’m glad you asked. I had coffee at Mom and Dad’s on Saturday morning. For some reason I happened to notice something I’ve overlooked about a million times: their wedding date right in the middle of that framed photo montage you and Lisa put together for their twenty-fifth. Marie, that was twenty-five years ago. Your grandparents’ fiftieth anniversary is coming up in two months!”

Of course, Marie had seen that montage countless times over the years as well, and with it being mentioned in conversation, along with the date and the day the gift was given, she was now instantly back in that moment in time when she was sixteen years old. She smiled at that Marie, the Marie that was just beginning to drive and, in the words of one of her favorite Rascal Flatts’ songs, she smiled about the broken road that led her to where her life is today.

So, with this phone call, thus began the planning for a momentous family milestone. Marie and her aunt met within a few days to start organizing and delegating between themselves what seemed like a mountain of details.

They quickly booked a nice location for the big day. Within about an hour Marie had created a Facebook event announcement containing the outline of the occasion (with more information to be announced) and she went about inviting those of her family and friends who know the couple… and who are also on Facebook. Unfortunately, there were only seven that she could find… at least among her Facebook friends. Maybe her aunt had more that could be added later, but that was a start.

With all this – and the many other details of life constantly vying for her attention – running is still an important part of her busy schedule. She’s committed to three days a week.

It is rare that Marie is ever too busy to run, for during this part of her morning routine she is able to sort of “get into the flow” of the day ahead. She prays. She plans. She thinks of people she needs to touch base with. She thinks about who and what she’s grateful for. She feels herself putting the demands of the insurance brokerage she owns and runs into a balanced perspective against the things in her life that are truly are important.

Not that her clients and their needs are not important. But, thanks to a combination of things her dad taught her over the years and learning from mistakes made in the course of not following her father’s pattern for facing life’s obstacles, she’s starting to get good at going with the flow and keeping her many priorities in the right order.

Grabbing her running shoes and heading down the hall, Marie mutters, “Six staggered client appointments in a row, starting at 8 o’clock… ugh.”

Then reasoning with herself in the mirror: “…but if I grumble at Matty for getting me started so doggone early every day this week, she’ll just remind me that I’m trying to stuff five days of work into four so I can head to the anniversary earlier on Friday. So, here’s to road trips!” toasting an imaginary Champagne glass with her reflection.

Matty, short for Mattison, is Marie’s assistant. Marie took a chance in hiring her. Matty had no insurance industry experience to offer and her references were all on the other side of the country where she grew up and, to Marie, not worth the follow up. On the strength of the interview, Marie trusted her intuition in hiring Matty and now she was glad she had done it. Of the six assistants Marie has had in the last eight years, Mattison Nichols was proving to be the best ever.

Matty has been especially helpful to Marie, personally, as Marie has endeavored to run the brokerage while planning this anniversary celebration on the east side of the state. Now, the golden anniversary is in just a few days.

To be continued…

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February 24, 2012

Don’t Stop

Perhaps the best advice I ever received: Don’t stop.

Winston Churchill made famous the phrase “Never give up!” But when I say Don’t stop, I am not referring to the importance of persevering. Though being determined and resolute and tenacious and unrelenting and tireless and purposeful and persistent are all exceedingly important, those qualities will not help you move through life’s obstacles as effectively as the angle I’m going to ask you to focus on here.

Focus on what you want

And focus is exactly the right word.

Much to my great detriment, I have spent far too many hours of my life working on what I wanted to get rid of; things I wanted to stop doing; negative character traits I wanted to see less of. And it turns out that, all by itself, THAT was the obstacle. My focus was keeping me from blasting through those things I wanted to get rid of; those things I wanted to stop doing and those negative character traits I wanted to get rid of. My focus was the obstacle.

I was simply focusing on the wrong things!

When I coach people on this topic, one of the questions I always ask is What do you want? It is always quite revealing about what the person is focusing on when they say things like ‘I want to stop procrastinating’ (or ‘…stop avoiding conflict’, or ‘….stop second-guessing myself’, or whatever the thing is that they don’t want). I listen and then ask What else do you want? If the person continues talking about what they don’t want, then I know we’ve got a real focus problem.

In one initial phone consultation with a woman in her late sixties, I asked her the question and she immediately said that she wants to stop getting cheated on. Gulp. That’s heavy. There’s a lot of pain in that desire. I asked, “What else do you want?”

She thought for maybe half a minute, which, over the phone, can seem like an eternity. Finally she said, “I guess I want lots of things, but wanting to not be cheated on any more is my main focus.”

I asked, “Are you sure?”

“Sure about what?”

“Are you sure that is your main focus?”

She thought some more about it. “Yes. For purposes of the coaching I feel that I need, my big thing is not being cheated on ever again.”

I asked for her to agree to withhold judgment on what I would say next. “Are you willing to withhold judgment on my first big piece of feedback until you give me ample opportunity to really explain where I’m coming from?”

She said yes. I then asked her to prove to herself that she was able to be open-hearted to my opinion by smiling as soon as she hears what I tell her. That broke the ice. She chuckled and agreed. Now she knew she wasn’t allowed to be offended. So, now I could tell her the truth without a breakdown in our communication.

“The truth is that you aren’t telling the truth, but you just don’t know it. Deep down, you either really do want to be cheated on because there’s some payoff in it for you, or you are confused as to what you really want. That’s what I get from what you’ve said so far. Are you smiling?”

I went on to explain to her that when I asked her what she wants, she identified something that she says she does not want. She did it no less than three times. She even clarified, insisting that not getting cheated on is her “main focus.”

Garbage In - Garbage Out!

Thinking about what you want to get rid of instead of what you want more of means you will continue to get more of the things you say you want to get rid of. Ruminating about the bad habit feeds the bad habit. I’ll do those undesirable behaviors just as much as I ever did, or even more(!), because of the attention paid to them. I’ll keep seeing more of the character traits I spend most of my time cogitating about. And I’ll certainly see a repeat of the same relationship calamities I’ve been experiencing if that’s what happens to occupy the center of my attention.

Whether we’re talking about your personal thought-life (Why do I keep thinking this way?), or your personal behaviors (Why do I keep engaging in these behaviors?), or things you’re doing that are getting poor results in your relationships (Why do I keep sabotaging things?), or in your career (Why do I seem stuck in a “rut”… or stagnant; or Why doesn’t anyone seem to take me seriously? etc.), the answer to those questions is real simple. The answer is: BECAUSE YOU’RE ASKING FOR IT!

The key — the big secret to turning things around: Don’t stop.

Don’t stop thinking about what you want more of
Don’t stop doing what you know works
Don’t stop practicing the habits (behaviors that you repeat) that promote the results you want
Don’t stop working to cultivate what do want
Don’t stop asking yourself better questions
Don’t stop expecting things to get better as your focus shifts toward what you do want more of
Don’t stop writing about what you want more of rather than what you want less of
Don’t stop reading (and reading out loud as often as possible!) material that promotes what you want more of
Don’t stop asking one or two trusted people to hold you accountable to the change(s) you are embarking on
And Don’t stop getting back up when you stumble (this is where Winston Churchill comes in)

Do all the above… and then keep doing all the above.

The professional, future hall of fame, field goal kicker both visualizes and physically practices kicking the ball between the uprights thousands and thousands of times. He gets it right by doing it right. He knows that visualizing a missed field goal would be foolish as it would not promote the outcome he really wants.

We will always get more of those things that we feed. We feed through focus. The more we focus, the more we feed. Feed all of the great and wonderful, life-promoting things you want. Don’t worry about getting rid of all the nonsense going on in your life. Seriously, shut up about those things. Leave them alone. By no longer paying attention to the nonsense, you will starve it and it will go away.

The old automatically gets evicted by the new. Frustration gets replaced by freedom. The worthless gets shoved aside by the worthwhile.

The coaching client I described above really got this and “owned” it very quickly. We were able to shift her focus away from not being cheated on and instead train our laser-like focus upon what she really does want:

She wants to be someone whose strengths are attractive to an equally strong, quality individual

She wants a lasting relationship

She wants loyalty and to be loyal

She wants to invite openness by being more open than she has been in the past

By being very clear in her own heart and mind about what she really wanted, she began to make very clear – without ever having to say it out loud – what she would never again tolerate in a relationship.

Once she got into the habit of cultivating those things – the things she really does want more of – she didn’t need me anymore!

How do I get rid of what I do not want and what I do not want more of? How do I stop doing what doesn’t work? Don’t stop doing what does work.

Find out what you want and think on that and act on that. And don’t stop.

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Filed under Letting Go of the Past, Moving On, Personal Responsibility

February 22, 2012

The Teacher Is the Student Series – #5

This series contains ways that you can supercharge anything you’re learning; anything you want to internalize; anything you want to become more competent at, no matter the topic. If you do the things suggested in this series…

* You will learn faster

* You will comprehend difficult, new concepts more quickly

* You will blast through obstacles in life more swiftly and easily

The concept here is based upon the fact that those teachers who are thoroughly engaged in the subject matter they’re teaching, tend to learn at an ever-deeper level the material they are teaching.

You Do The Math

Seriously. Do math. It helps.

I’m not talking about geometry or calculus or even algebra. Studies have shown that the frequent practice of simply adding together a series of at least three numbers that are at least four figures long, will help turn your mind into a steel trap; you’ll more easily remember names and facts and figures.

Having a poor recall of names and facts and figures can be a real obstacle to career advancement, not to mention the not-great message a forgotten name sends to those in your social circle.

Also, stop undermining yourself in this regard by boldly announcing that you’re not good with names. No one thinks better of you because you vocalize the excuse that you’re horrible at remembering names. At best, when people hear that, they think to themselves Oh, great. So, he is equally inconsiderate to everyone. He’s equal in his disregard for others. He puts zero effort into remembering everyone’s name. When he forgets mine, it’s not personal. Nice.

Know that your brain accepts the premise of virtually everything you say about yourself. Put the statement in the form of a question and your brain will dutifully work on producing an answer. That’s both good news and bad news. Bad if you are habitually asking stupid questions like, “Why am I so stupid?” But very good when you start asking questions that contain better, more positive assumptions about yourself.

Start asking yourself why you are so good at remembering names and/or facts and figures and/or all kinds of other valuable information you’d like to be better at retaining and quickly recalling… as well as things you’d like to imrove upon, and soon the answer to those questions will start manifesting in your behaviors.

Sounds like magic to some and way too easy to others. It’s not too good to be true. It works because this is simply how your brain works.

And yes, this works for virtually any positive behavior you’d like to add to your life and for getting rid of virtually any negative behavior you’d like to remove from your life.

So, for the best results possible: before you do some math exercises, ask yourself why you’re able to add numbers so quickly and easily.

Does it make sense to at least try what you’ve read in this article? What if it’s true that you really can become better at retaining information such as names and facts & figures? What if it’s true that you really can eliminate virtually any unproductive behavior from your life? What benefits would that bring to your life? You do the math.

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February 10, 2012

The Words in Her Book – Part 3

Of course they had to be her hands. Who else’s hands could she be holding in front of her face? But they seemed so… so… well, old. Maybe not old. But older than the hands of a little girl, for sure.

She tried to put aside the perplexing mystery of her hands by refocusing her attention on the words in her book. Within a few short minutes, she found treasure; a good many words that certainly did help pass the time and remind her of what this journey was all about in the first place.

But now she felt a little badly that she had opened her book as a mere distraction. The pages are filled with such beneficial nuggets of wisdom and useful insights, how could she view this little black, leather-bound wisdom bank as anything other than a good, close friend who has never let her down. She smiled, knowing that her book would forgive her if it could specifically say so. Somewhere in her book, there are actually several words about that very topic.

The deep reverberating sound of the great ship’s horn brought the little girl to attention. She rose and walked to the railing and saw that the ship was now in the harbor of the resplendent city that she had so looked forward to seeing, and now here it was! Only a few more minutes and the ship would be docking and she and the other passengers would step forth into this wonderful new experience.

Suddenly, many doubts instantly rushed forth. She heard a handful of questions in her mind. How would she handle certain situations? What if she got lost? What if people noticed that she was only a little girl and concluded that she had no business walking around as though she belonged here? But mostly she just felt a general, heavy doubting feeling.

Then, almost as suddenly as the doubts came, a renewed resolve settled over the little girl, almost like a cavalry of heroes riding over the hill; a far superior force of the good guys arriving to chase the feelings of doubts in a hasty retreat. The girl was now gritting her teeth and pursing her lips in determination, knowing that she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Nothing and no one would tell her any different.

The time came for her to step off the great ship and venture forth into the gleaming city. Holding tight to her book, she walked across the gangway connecting the ship to the dock. She carefully descended a beautiful spiral staircase to join the bustling masses of people coming and going, many there to see their arriving loved-ones and many there to prepare for a voyage of their own.

Now, here she was, downtown. It was incredible. Oddly, it was also familiar and this was somewhat reassuring to the little girl. But before she could muse about how recognizable her surroundings seemed to be, the little girl caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of a store window.

She cocked her head back just a little, and gave herself a knowing smile.

All in the same instant, the girl recognized the reflection and yet she didn’t. But still, she knew it was her that she was looking at. And she was proud of the person looking back at her. Her smile said it all.

Previously on the ship, when she looked at her hands, she had been startled at first, but then things started to come back to her. When she felt the surge of determination to rise above her doubts, she had felt that in the flash of that moment other things about her had changed as well. So, this time she wasn’t startled to see that the person reflecting back was a lovely woman, maybe in her late thirties.

Next she would figure out why her surroundings were so familiar.

To be continued…

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Filed under Letting Go of the Past, Moving On, Personal Responsibility

Obstacle Blaster

Four Questions to Make Things Work Better at Work

The Words in Her Book – Part 8

The Words in Her Book – Part 7

New Light

The Words in Her Book – Part 6

The Words in Her Book – Part 5

The Words in Her Book – Part 4

Don’t Stop

The Teacher Is the Student Series – #5

The Words in Her Book – Part 3

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