Ever wish you could be a little bit different? Who doesn’t, right? “If only I had that skill.” “How come I can’t do that?“ “Too bad I don’t have the innate talent my colleague seems to have for …” well, for whatever they’re especially good at. A thousand times I’ve looked at someone who is well-organized, focused, and strategic—and fervently wished to be more like them. Sadly, those just aren’t my gifts. Except here’s the thing. It’s not really sad at all.
When was the last time you called to touch base with a friend for no reason at all? Or you sent a text with no mission in mind other than to let someone know you were thinking of them? Or you shot off a quick email, just to say hi? You might guess those random contacts would be unwelcome interruptions in their busy day. Who has time to respond to a quick hello, a remark about the weather, or a waving emoji? Turns out if that’s your assumption, you’re mistaken. (And I was right there with you.)
When was the last time you called to touch base with a friend for no reason at all? Or you sent a text with no mission in mind other than to let someone know you were thinking of them? Or you shot off a quick email, just to say hi? You might guess those random contacts would be unwelcome interruptions in their busy day. Who has time to respond to a quick hello, a remark about the weather, or a waving emoji? Turns out if that’s your assumption, you’re mistaken. (And I was right there with you.)
When was the last time you called to touch base with a friend for no reason at all? Or you sent a text with no mission in mind other than to let someone know you were thinking of them? Or you shot off a quick email, just to say hi? You might guess those random contacts would be unwelcome interruptions in their busy day. Who has time to respond to a quick hello, a remark about the weather, or a waving emoji? Turns out if that’s your assumption, you’re mistaken. (And I was right there with you.)
Communication breaks down. There’s so much free-floating irritation these days, so many reasons to be peeved—and even outraged. I know they say, “feel your feelings.” I’m just not sure those feelings are that good for any of us. So, I offer my experience with the alderman’s assistant as a sort of template. When a conversation gets heated, we can realize we don’t know what’s been going on in the other person’s world. Here are some useful things we can all do …
They call it “retail politics”—reach more people, talk directly with voters, interacting with supporters, skipping the filter of the media, social and otherwise. It’s going out of fashion in some quarters, but in local campaigns, you still see candidates attending small gatherings, greeting people at commuter stations and grocery stores, even ringing doorbells for a chat on the front porch. In our own businesses, not unlike in politics, we look for faster, easier ways to reach more people in less time. And yet. That direct contact with customers, prospects, and referral sources is so valuable. When we do it well …
I staggered from the room bleary-eyed, frazzled, and wobbly. Frank took one look at my face and said, “Listen, Princess, maybe we should go out for a bite tonight. You don’t really feel like cooking, do you?” I must have looked like I’d been through the war. I felt that way too. I was finally emerging from a Zoom meeting. After six long hours.
I was Zoomed out. Maybe you’ve been there?
When I was at a consulting firm, we always suggested our clients consider their guiding values about work and about selling. Those are the deep beliefs that we may not even articulate often, but they’re part of our world view, and probably have been since childhood. Examining my own guiding values about selling, I concluded that I came by my reluctance naturally. I grew up hearing negative messages about sales. My dad used to call himself, with tongue only slightly in cheek, a public servant. I can remember his stories about guys coming into his office pushing some gizmo or other. Trying to persuade him that their big idea was just the thing he needed. Let’s just say his accounts were … not complimentary. His dad, on the other hand, was (get this) a classic traveling salesman.
Every time you open your mouth in a meeting, on a phone call, or on a virtual platform, what you say and how you say it will shape the way people perceive you. And that perception will set the stage for your success. Or not. It may not be as self-evident to you.
No wonder organizations are asking for my expertise on civil discourse. It’s getting tougher all the time, isn’t it, to explore differing perspectives on issues without sinking to negativity and name-calling. I’ve been developing ideas about that since my days as a talk show host, and I had a chance last week to share them with some savvy professional women. So, howd o we go from furious to curious?
