“Last month I spent a week motorcycling back-country roads in Oregon, California and Washington. Unfortunately one of my friends had an accident that broke a few parts on both the bike and the rider. The trip was over for them.

The morning after the accident, we met in the lobby of a motel near the hospital to plan how to get our injured friend and his damaged bike back home. Thinking that we were on our own to solve this, we didn’t come up with many options. The motel owner overheard us and offered to help. He had lots of ideas that we would never have considered.

In the end, this generous man drove my injured friend two hours to the Seattle airport, shipped his luggage home and offered to store the damaged motorcycle in his garage.

We often feel that it is our responsibility to solve problems on our own. Seeking help isn’t a reflection of our ability; it demonstrates that we are confident enough to find the best possible solution. Sometimes, great ideas come from unexpected places.”
–GG

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(Editor’s note: I had my own injury/good Samaritan moment back in 2001. While on a trip in Costa Rica, my journey took me down south to the lovely Corcovado National Park. To get to the entrance, we had to take a small boat from our campground. On the return trip (after a lovely walk through the rainforest), a much larger vessel came speeding around a corner and smacked, dramatically, into our glorified row boat, sending everyone flying. In the wrong place at the wrong time, I took the main brunt of the collision, suffering a shot to my lower back (from the other ship’s prow) that resulted in a glowing bruise the size of a grapefruit. Back at the campground later that day, the proprietor was disconsolate. Not only did he book an emergency flight for me back to the capital (San Jose), but he also had his partner take me, hand in hand, to a doctor. All of this the proprietor paid for out of his own pocket.

Was he worried about a potential lawsuit? Perhaps. But I choose to believe that the campground owner, like the motel keeper in the story above, was simply interested in doing the right thing and helping wherever he could. Left to my own devices, I probably would’ve rested at the campground and hoped that my spine was all right. Thankfully, the proprietor was a man of action – and I was willing to accept his assistance. Truly, great ideas can come from unlikely sources.

Both the motel keeper and the campground owner earned our trust through willingness for self-sacrifice. By giving up their own needs, they became eminently trust-worthy.

As a leader in your organization, how often are YOU asking for help and soliciting ideas (rather than trying to do it all yourself)? How often are you practicing self-sacrifice for the sake of the team? Your answers to these questions might just determine the levels of trust and productivity your department will achieve going forward.
–DB
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Gord Grant is a professional coach who teaches his clients to consistently have the performance they want in life, work and sport. He can be reached at his email address gord@gordongrantcoaching.com or through his LinkedIn Profile: https://ca.linkedin.com/pub/gordon-grant/28/485/995

The first game of the day is just getting started when my occasional nemesis, Rick from Ukraine, starts doing that controlling thing he does. You know – telling people where to position themselves, moving everyone around, and making sure his team is the strongest on the court. This drives me crazy! Where I come from, you always try to set up the teams as evenly as possible in order to maximize the chances of having the closest game possible. Sadly, hyper-competitive Rick (who does NOT like to lose) rarely sees it this way. Compounding things is Rick’s communication style which is, shall we say, blunt. It’s not unusual to hear him blurt out something like “You’re no good”, “You can’t hit” or “I no set for you.” Again, I come from a different school of thought – one that strives to build people up via encouragement and affirmation. I’m also an unrepentant advocate for the underdog. So when Rick starts laying into my friend, Steph, about her supposedly poor passing skills, I kind of snap. Soon I’m yelling at Rick, he’s yelling back at me, and before I know, I find myself storming off the court, declaring “I cannot play with this guy.”

Pretty immature stuff, huh? What was I thinking (or not thinking)?!!

And yet, what was I to do – just stand there and take it? Perhaps yes, perhaps no. In fact, there seems to be 5 distinct methods for managing toxic relationships, both at work and at play. They are:

Remain a victim to it

Change it

Change your perspective of it

Accept it

Leave it

Obviously in this particular scenario on the volleyball court, I chose method #5 – I left the situation, Although, in retrospect, I wish I could have handled things more calmly and reasonably, my choice was a valid solution. I couldn’t change Rick’s behavior and I couldn’t accept it, so I got out of there.
Let’s take a closer look at the five methods.

Remain a victim to the relationship: The most passive approach, playing the victim includes accepting a feeling of loss of control. It means reconciling yourself to powerlessness, uncontrolled anger, grief and sometimes depression. Remaining a victim is the path of least resistance, to be sure, but it also decreases our energy and drains us until we feel like nothing is left.

Change the relationship: A more proactive approach, this method involves trying to find a common point of agreement with the other person that enables the relationship to continue on at an at least neutral level. If you can pull it off (through stellar communication), the relationship can often be shifted for the better. The key is for all parties involved to move from WIIFM (What’s in it for me?) to WIIFU (What’s in it for us?).

Change the relationship by changing one’s perspective of it: Rather than changing the relationship with actions and new behaviors, this approach asks you to modify and shift your own way of looking at things. How can you see the other person from a new vantage point? What qualities of him or her can you appreciate?

Accept the relationship: In this strategy, you suspend your judgment of the relationship, releasing all stress and burden. You accept the relationship as it is – as an experience that does not require anything. You’re simply at peace with where the situation is at the moment.

Leave the relationship: If you don’t like a relationship, and you can’t change it, remain in it, change the way you look at it, or accept it, you’re only remaining option is to leave/terminate it. Sometimes the individual chemistry and make up of two individuals is such that we simply cannot co-exist in a relationship. This is not good or bad, it just is.

After the volleyball game, I went up to Rick and let him know that I like and respect him off the court (which is true) but don’t share his values on the court. I then suggested that we don’t play together for a while. It didn’t feel great – in general, I’m a peace maker. In a perfect world, I would’ve found that common ground with Rick and we would’ve patched things up. But not everyone is ready or willing to change. Sometimes you just have to get out…to surround yourself with your peeps. Life is too short to swim in toxic waters.

Although my visit with the architect wasn’t long enough for me to receive an adequate explanation about the kitchen– remember, I was 25 years old with a girl on my mind – I’ve thought about this odd house many times over the years. Why did he do it? Why did this talented designer create a kitchen intended to torture its inhabitants? My theory, then and now, is that he must have been an advocate of the Japanese aesthetic of imperfection. To understand what I mean, try watching Japanese television sometime on cable, or go to your nearest Japantown and pick up a copy of one of those teenage fan magazines. You’ll find that half the young Japanese models and starlets, if not more, have these perfect faces, this perfect hair, this perfect skin, these perfect teeth, except for one slight flaw: one tooth is always crooked. Now, I’m no expert on Japanese art and pop culture, but it seems to me that the people over there admire this kind of thing — imperfection amidst perfection. Asymmetry within the symmetry. Can you imagine such an aesthetic choice taking hold here in the U.S., where movie stars seemingly start botoxing and photoshopping themselves in their teens! An American architect who incorporated a pint-sized kitchen into a modern suburban house would be run out of the industry on his apron strings.

I bring up the Nagasaki inconvenient kitchen today because it reminds me of something unusual Google has been doing for a while now in its lunch rooms. As you’re probably aware from all the publicity, Google is rated as one of the top organizations to work for. Applicants flock to their HR department in search of well-paying jobs, parental-leave benefits, child care, and more perks than you can shake a cursor at. According to a recent Fortune magazine article, Google is also famous (or infamous) for its non-stop, free buffet – with a twist. The author notes:

“Data-obsessed Google measures the length of its cafeteria lines to make sure people have to wait a while (optimally three to four minutes) and have time to talk. It makes people sit at long tables, where they’re likelier to be next to or across from someone they don’t know, and it puts those tables a little too close together so you might hit someone when you push your chair back and thus meet someone new.”

Employees call it “the Google bump”. Kind of sounds like the inconvenient kitchen all over again, doesn’t it?

The difference between Japan and Google has everything to do with culture, in this case corporate vs. national. Rather than adopting the Japanese aesthetic of imperfection, the lunch room architects at Google are all about social engineering. The inconvenience of long lunch lines and cramped tables serves a practical purpose at the company: namely, it forces people to get up and out of their cubicles, interacting and socializing (whether they like it or not). Even if your bonding is based on negativity (ie. complaining about the lunch room), you’re still out there bonding with new people. Misery truly loves company.

Google understands that strong work relationships lead to higher employee engagement…that encouraging a family-like corporate culture, rich in connection and relationships, is a competitive tool that leads to winning in the marketplace.

So what are you doing in your workplace to encourage inconvenient socializing? Are your elevators too large and spacious? Narrow them! Oh, and make sure they take longer to move from floor to floor! Reduce those parking space sizes! Enforce a gym rule of two people to a treadmill! The sky’s the limit when it comes to productive imperfection. J

I will say this, cramped spaces have their benefits. If I had a time machine, the first place I’d send myself back to is that inconvenient house in Nagasaki. The kitchen would have been an awfully cozy place to bond with my girl crush.

#1 It (the good deed) has to be something that really helps people.

#2 It must be something they can’t do by themselves.

#3 I (the giver) will do it for them, then they will do a similar deed for three other people.

Although I found the movie at times a bit too saccharine for my taste, I certainly appreciated the sentiment: Giving not only feels good, but it can jump start a contagion of philanthropic behavior.

The movie came to mind for me today as I was watching this inspiring YouTube video:

The video tells the story of Mason Wartman, a former office worker on Wall Street who left his desk job to open a pizza shop in Philadelphia. At Rosa’s Fresh Pizza, one of the first things you notice is a wall of colored post-it notes. Each note represents a pre-purchased, $1 slice of pizza that someone has offered up for people in need. In short, if you’re homeless and hungry, you can come into Rosa’s and receive a free slice. And it’s NOT charity from Wartman and his staff; the pizza has been paid for… by a good-hearted patron who paid a buck to help a stranger, then captured his intentions as a post-it note on the wall.

It’s a simple concept and rather elegant, kind of like when you’re crossing a bridge and discover at the gate that someone has paid your bridge toll for you. You think, “Wow, that’s kind.” And maybe, just maybe, you consider doing the same for the person behind you!

By all accounts, Wartman’s pre-purchased pizza policy has had a remarkable impact on the community in the City of Brotherly Love. One homeless person in the video even remarks that the slices have helped reduce hunger-related thefts. And interestingly, above and beyond the positive PR, the concept has been great for Rosa’s profits. Pre-purchased slices represent 10% of Rosa’s business!

So, what can you do “pay it forward” at your workplace? Where can you help someone publicly yet anonymously, inspiring others to join you in the giving? The ideas are endless! Imagine the change in your corporate culture, as people look for ways to help rather than to horde. That really would be a slice of progress.

Today I asked Tim to share a few of his thoughts on team leadership ­ from a jazz improv perspective. Here are his insightful comments:

“What I’ve learned from leading jazz groups, and from being a sideman for that matter, is that a group functions best when the leader is strong, confident, and has a vision. Within the context of that, he must also give the members of the band the feeling that they are totally free to express themselves within the boundaries of what the leader is setting out to do. I often find myself describing an improvising quartet as an excellent example of living, dynamic democracy. The jazz group was born to express the American spirit, and it has evolved into a form that is capable of expressing the spirits of communities of musicians throughout the world.

“The leader needs to pick members who will be compatible, and create an environment of mutual respect. With this in place, the sidemen can relax into a feeling of safety, from which they can explore and take risks without being judged unfairly for mistakes. If the leader is too selfish or demanding, the band members start to see themselves as just being there to do a job and collect a paycheck, and they lose respect for the leader. But more importantly, they become detached from the music and go on autopilot, ceasing to be actively expressing their own true music. On the flip side, if the leader defers too much to others in the band, the sidemen lose respect for him because they expect to be led somewhere interesting. This situation can result in everyone acting like a leader to pick up the slack in the band, and arguments over decision making and the direction of the music inevitably ensue.

“Then there’s the issue of “swing”. There’s the fundamental level of swing where everyone is feeling the beat together, and the music has natural momentum. Then there’s the next level where four artists all hearing the music in its moment of creation together generate an incredible propulsion. The rush of that stream carries each individual and the group into a place where they are all playing in a way that no one imagined before or could possibly recreate. The music is not only in the moment, it is of the moment. That’s what I live for! Occasionally it happens, and I dream of the day when I can play enough and have enough work for my band to live in that place more.

“So I see the wisdom of team leadership lying in the ability to acknowledge and nurture each individual’s freedom and creativity while simultaneously having the vision to create a group dynamic that takes the individuals bound together to a new and unforeseen place.”

Editor’s Note: I was fortunate enough to catch Tim in concert in San Francisco this past weekend. I was impressed with the way the musicians in his quartet listened intently to each other without trying to upstage one another. The goal was always to keep the music moving forward, and to make others look good. It reminded me of the way my favorite NBA team, the Golden State Warriors, have been playing basketball this year: without egos…completely oriented toward team performance rather than individual statistics.

Business leaders can learn much from the world of jazz improv. Before your next team meeting, consider asking yourself the following questions:

Do I have a strong, confident vision for my team, and if so, what is it and have I communicated it sufficiently?

Am I taking people somewhere “interesting”?

Do I provide my “sidemen” the freedom to express themselves within the boundaries of my vision?

On the other hand, am I providing so much freedom that my team members are left confused about the direction they’re being asked to take?

Do we “swing” as a team? Are we attaining that feeling of flow in which people are functioning at their highest performance level? If not, what aspects of my leadership style might be preventing this?

When it comes to teamwork, let the spirits of Miles Davis and Duke Ellington be your guide.

(Visit Tim Armacost on the web at www.timarmacost.com)

Given that over 120 million viewers were watching the end of Super Bowl XLIX this past Sunday, the chances are fairly good that at least some (if not most) of you witnessed the puzzling play calling from Seattle Seahawks’ coach, Pete Carroll. Here was the situation. Down by four points with less than a minute to play in the fourth quarter, the Seahawks have possession of the ball with one yard separating them from the end zone and, most likely, their second consecutive Super Bowl victory. The common-sense call is to run the ball with Marshawn Lynch, a bowling ball of a human being with the nickname “Beast Mode”. Lynch who, on the previous play, pounded ahead for four yards, has already run for over 100 yards in the game, demonstrating time and again that the Patriots can’t mount much resistance when a short gain is required of him. Everyone in the stadium (including this writer) is expecting a safe, off-tackle plunge from Lynch. But then something remarkable happens; the Seahawks’ brilliant young quarterback, Russell Wilson, unexpectedly drops back for a pass and slings the ball over the middle in the direction of wide receiver Ricardo Lockette, knifing towards the goal line. Against all odds, Patriots cornerback Malcolm Butler steps in front of Lockette and intercepts the ball, essentially ending the game and handing New
England their 4th Super Bowl victory.

What could Pete Carroll have been thinking?

TV sportscaster Chris Collinsworth was obviously thinking the same thing when he exclaimed:

“I’m sorry, but I can’t believe the call. I cannot believe the call. You’ve got Marshawn Lynch in the backfield. You’ve got a guy that’s been border line unstoppable in this part of the field. I can’t believe the call… I don’t believe it. I’m sitting here and I absolutely cannot believe that play call. If I lose the Super Bowl because Marshawn Lynch can’t get in from the 1-yard line, so be it. So be it. But there is no way… I don’t believe the call.”

Like much of the sports media, I have to agree with Collinsworth’s assessment – ostensibly, Carroll’s call was a mistake. The odds certainly were strongly in favor of running the ball with Lynch. But Carroll apparently saw things differently. In a press conference after the game, Carroll calmly explained that for the play in question, New England had sent in their “goal-line package”, expressly designed to stop the run. Explains the coach:

“We easily could have gone otherwise. But when they sent their goal line guys in, I know that we have the advantage on the matchups in the passing game, so let’s throw it. It’s OK.”

If Carroll’s decision had worked out, great! The Seahawks pass for a touchdown and everyone calls it one of the gutsiest, out-of-the-box calls in Super Bowl history. And if it fails (as it did), Carroll and Wilson are goats of the highest order, those crazy gunslingers who cost an entire city a chance to celebrate.
What did you think of the call?

For me, the interesting question is not whether the play was a mistake or not, but rather, what Seattle is going to make of it going forward. It would be easy (and not unprecedented) for Seahawks owner Paul Allen to fire Carroll outright, laying all the blame on the coach’s shoulders. In the NFL in particular, winning is everything; coaches have a fairly short leash. It’s “win now or pack your bags.”

America certainly venerates its winners and vilifies its losers. Consider the case of poor Bill Buckner, a star baseball player whose error in game six of the 1986 World Series cost the Red Sox a championship. The city of Boston has never forgiven Buckner for his mistake, essentially running him out town — completely forgetting the player’s hall of fame statistics earned over a long, distinguished career. One wonders how the city of Seattle will treat Carroll and staff over the next few weeks and months.

As mentioned, Carroll hasn’t really apologized for his mistake. He’s sticking with the argument that “doing the predictable thing” didn’t get his team to the Super Bowl. The Seahawks live by the unexpected and die by the unexpected. I get it. What interests me is how Carroll is spinning things with his players. After all, once a coach has lost the locker room, his days as the team leader are over. If the Seahawks, in their disappointment, rise up as one against Carroll and his coaching staff, pointing fingers at the men responsible for their Super loss, it could be a slippery slope for Seattle back to mediocrity.

As a leader, Carroll’s task is to remind people that there are no mistakes; there are only learning opportunities. So what work (and life) lessons can the coach and his team harvest from this year’s Super Bowl loss? How about:

• Whether you win or you lose, you have an opportunity to display class and character.

• When you have a philosophy you believe in (in this case, unpredictability), you stick with it, whatever the consequences.

• As good as it feels to be on top, you often learn more about yourselves when you’re dropped down to the bottom. We certainly feel more compassion and empathy for the world’s down-trodden masses when we’ve taken a hit ourselves.

You get the idea. In the short term, the Seahawks are undoubtedly feeling sad and disappointed this week. After all, they’ve been deprived of their much-anticipated winner’s high. But in the long term, losing DOES build character and engender insight. The most successful people on the planet see opportunity in all experience, enjoying the process no matter what happens. In fact, true visionaries often enjoy when things don’t go exactly as planned; they love serendipity, as it usually opens the door to a new options and possibilities.

Can Pete Carroll successfully convey this message to the Seattle Seahawks? Given what I know about his established rapport with his team, I’m guessing yes. It probably doesn’t hurt, as well, that each player on the losing squad of the Super Bowl gets a $49,000 bonus for simply appearing in the big game. So much for the “downtrodden masses”.

The Zen master — bald, 70 years old, with wisdom lines twinkling around his eyes — famed throughout the country for his sage teachings, responds: “Visit me again in one month. During that time, meditate 90 minutes a day.”

Satisfied, the samurai agrees and departs. Thirty days later, he returns to the temple in Kyoto and explains to the master, with some frustration: “I have done as you requested, meditating over an hour and a half per day. But I feel no closer to satori (enlightenment).”

The master replies: “Visit me again in two months. During that time, meditate three hours a day.”

Determined to make progress towards his salvation, the samurai once again agrees. Two months later, he returns to the master’s temple, even more frustrated than before. “Master, I don’t understand. For 60 days I have done exactly what you requested; for three hours a day I’ve meditated, and yet I feel I am no closer to satori!

Nodding gently in acknowledgment, the venerable Zen master responds. “Let us have some tea and play a game of chess while we ponder this. But if you want my help, you must agree to my terms. The result of our chess game will be a matter of life and death. The winner will survive. The loser will submit himself to the axeman and sacrifice his head on the chopping block.”

A man of war, confident in his strategic abilities, the samurai agrees and the chess game begins.

Both players are equally matched, skillfully countering each other, move for move. After some time, however, the samurai suddenly realizes that the game has swung in his favor. In two moves, he can achieve a checkmate–and save his head. With his hand on the chess piece that will assure his victory, the samurai pauses and weighs his options:

“I’ve have achieved much in life, but I am only a soldier. This master has written scholarly tracts; he has traveled far and wide, lecturing on the Buddha and the dharma and improving peoples’ lives. As old as the master is, he still has many more years of service left to him. And what have I to offer? His life is more valuable than my own.”

And with that, the samurai takes his hand off the chess piece he was touching and makes a different move, one that will help the zen master win. Wide eyed, the master reaches under the chess board and flips it over — pieces flying this way and that across the room. Jumping to his feet, he takes one stride towards the startled samurai, thrusts a figure up at the general’s chest and exclaims:

“NOW you are ready to learn!”
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As we all step into the new year, I think it’s important for us all to think about our goals and resolutions. What are we hoping to achieve this year, and how is our entire life in alignment with our actions? Are we saying one thing and yet doing another?

The samurai in the story aspires to peace and enlightenment while continuing to lead a life of war and violence. His actions contradict his ambitions. Perhaps you want to lose weight and get healthy this year but find yourself still sneaking Snickers bars in the breakroom. Or maybe you’re dedicated to creating a more engaged team culture but you continue to ignore the feedback from your staff’s surveys.

Like the samurai, we would all do well to consider not only what we’re doing in our personal lives and at work, but also who we are. If we model a competitive, dog-eat-dog mindset, can we then expect our team mates to practice enthusiastic cooperation and collaboration?

Fortunately for us, most of our resolutions do not have life or death consequences, as they do for the samurai in the story. But certainly our actions have costs…psychic costs. What is the current status quo in your life costing you in terms of gray hairs and lost sleep?

In this season of change, let’s all commit to integrating our speech with our actions, our goals with our lifestyle. It could just be the move that saves you.

Over my 20 years of v-ball Sundays, I’ve been repeatedly astonished by how uncannily the game parallels life and, most particularly, the psycho-social dynamics in the workplace. Take for example the topic of motivation. As I see it, there are three types of players on the volleyball court at any one time, namely:

The Recreationist

The Competitor

The Glory Hog

The Recreationist’s motivation is merely to get outside, grab a little exercise and enjoy socializing with other players. Improving her skills or achieving the “thrill of victory” is of relatively low priority for this kind of person: just being out in the park, running around and shooting the breeze with folks is more than enough to satisfy a Recreationist.

The Competitor’s goal is more aggressive, ie. “Just win baby!” A successful day for a Competitor is comprised of a series of winning matches, all of them delivering a delicious release of adrenaline. Losing is simply an unacceptable outcome – just a bad, bad day in the park.

The Glory Hog cares little about socializing, getting in shape, or even winning. His aim is basically to be the star player, the hero. In volleyball, that often translates to hitting lots of un-returnable spikes. Unlike the Competitor, who knows his winning high is dependent on his whole team playing together as one, the Glory Hog is mainly concerned with his own, individual ego boost. As long as he hits his shots and secures his moments of heroism, who cares if the team wins or loses?

Does this any of this sound familiar to you? Who in your office is just happy to be hanging out and socializing? Who is the hyper-competitive team member, the one who sees life as a battle to win? And who is the prima donna, caring only about increasing his own status? My guess is that you could peg all three personality types in your office after only one game of watching your co-workers behave on a volleyball court. (Hmm, what a good interview practice that might be!)

My point is that at work and at play, people show up with agendas. Of the three “volleyball personalities” mentioned above, only the Recreationist has control of her own experience. As long as people are willing to talk with her (not always a given, but usually so), she can enjoy her afternoon. By contrast, the Competitor needs participation and effort from the whole team in order to get that winner’s high. And the Glory Hog has it worse; if people don’t set him well, he can’t hit his spikes and grab the hero’s medal.

Whenever you come into a situation with an agenda that relies on the performance of others, you’re putting yourself into a difficult spot; with other people involved, there’s simply no way to assure that you’re going to get what you came for. But what if you shifted your perspective, from outside to inside? What if you treated each volleyball afternoon, each day at work, each 24 hours on the planet as a series of self-determined opportunities? Here’s how this might work:

Opportunity #1: No matter what happens today, I can always work on something new …whether it’s a new skill, a new technique, or a new way of talking/listening to people

Opportunity #2: No matter what happens today, I can always practice and improve on an existing skill or ability.

Opportunity #3: No matter what happens today, I can always learn something about myself and the world.

The beauty of the “Three Opportunities” is their flexibility.

Let’s say you’re on the volleyball court and your team is continually losing. No problem –you shift your attention to that new spiking motion you saw on YouTube.

Or let’s say you’re not getting set consistently for spikes. Not a big deal; you focus, instead, on improving your current footwork and passing, or perhaps your communication and leadership skills.

Or how about if you’re just having one of those uncoordinated, two-left-feet sort of days, and nothing is going right. Easy. You transfer you attention away from physical performance to emotional mastery, learning more about the nature of your own negative self talk, and how you might counter it.

How might your life be different if you said to yourself every morning:

“Today I refuse to dwell on my mistakes, errors, or frustrated ambitions. No matter what life throws at me, today I will see only opportunities and celebration. The goal for today is to try new things, refine old skills, and learn as much as I can about myself, others and the world. And that will be a great day guaranteed.”

That sounds like a big volleyball spike of a day to me, something you can control no matter what happens. Give it a try! It may just change your life.

A native Montrealer now splitting his time between Toronto and Boca Raton, my 79-year-old Uncle Stan — a tall bear of a man with a clipped grey hair and a short, white Hemmingway-esque beard — takes traffic combativeness to an all-new level. During a recent jaunt with him around his native city, I watch my uncle avert no less than 7 surely-fatal accidents with split-second maneuvers that would have impressed Mario Andretti, narrated hilariously by Stan’s incessant flow of Yiddish expletives.

“Take that you putz!” my uncle exclaims as he darts in front of a silver Honda with inches to spare.

“Don’t you tailgate me, you schmuck!” he bellows at a black BMW which has dared to venture within five feet of our bumper.

Although I have my eyes squeezed shut in terror for much of our journey, I have to give credit where credit is due; despite his antics, Uncle Stan gets us across town (and all the way to the Laurentian Mountains) in good time and in one piece. Admittedly, some of Stan’s comments are pretty funny, in a Woody Allen movie kind of way, but looking back, I have to wonder, what kind of mindset might have inspired this kind of manic driving behavior. Surely combativeness is not infused in the Montreal water supply.

Seeking a solution to this puzzle, I turn to my mom for insight.

“Oh, my brother’s always been like that”, she replies. “Argumentative! A know it all! You should see what he’s like when he’s playing bridge. Completely cut throat!”

Gradually a picture of my Uncle Stan’s approach to life begins to emerge. From my uncle’s perspective:

The world is an arena.

It’s dog eat dog out there.

If I don’t knock down my opponents, they’ll take advantage of me.

If I fight, I might take some bruises but at least people will respect me.

In the game of life, there are winners and losers; I always make sure the other guy is the loser.

This way of thinking would certainly explain his driving patterns.

But does it have to be that way — for Uncle Stan…and for all of us?

How might things be different if we could all raise our energy above a continual attitude of competition and start looking for opportunities both to collaborate and to serve? What might life look like if we co-created win-win (rather than “I win/you lose”) situations?

The thing is, viewing the world as a boxing match isn’t just harmful to your “opponents”; it rebounds back on you as well, diminishing your relationships, increasing stress (and cortisol in your body), and cutting you off from potential new connections.

With a shift in perspective, here’s what my dream road trip with my uncle my might one day look like:

“Hey Uncle Stan, that guy just cut you off!”

“Yes, Dave, he certainly did. But did you notice that his lane was ending. I’m guessing that he just noticed his predicament; we wouldn’t want him to get squeezed off of the highway, would we? Imagine how that would stink for him, getting re-routed away from his destination.”

“Okay, that makes sense. But what about that woman tailgating you? You going to let that stand?”

“You know, I don’t really care for that kind of driving; it’s dangerous and if I had to make a sudden stop, we might have a collision. However, there’s not much I can do about it except keep on driving at my current speed. Eventually she’ll get frustrated and go around me, which will be better for everyone.

“But won’t she beat you down the road of life.”

“Look, I’m sorry that she’s in such a hurry that she’s putting everyone at risk, but who knows what her situation is? Perhaps she’s got a sick child in the hospital. In any case, all I can do is take care of my own, calm driving. We’ll get to our destination when we get there. There’s no reason to be a putz!”

What a different trip that would be.

“But wait just a second,” you say. “I’m only an admin…or a mid-level manager…or a soccer mom. I’m no leader.”

This is an understandable reaction, to be sure – and yet completely inaccurate. Leadership is much more than the title you hold or the position you maintain in the company pecking order. Leadership, in fact, is how you interact with everyone, including yourself. Everyone — is a leader, either by choice or default. Leading is the way we help move people, including ourselves, into action. It’s the way we influence others. The question is not whether or not we are leaders, but how well we lead.

As for the “organization” piece, organizations are not limited solely to business. All of the groups, teams, and people around you are organizations, too. Organizations are the colleagues you work with and the family you go home to. Your organization includes all those who are grouped within your many circles of influence. Each of us is a part of many organizations.

So the question isn’t “Am I leader in my organization?” but rather “What kind of an organizational leader do I want to be?

“Everything Is Energy and That’s All There Is To It. Match the Frequency of the Reality You Want” — Albert Einstein

Catabolic and Anabolic Energy

More than a hundred years ago, Einstein addressed the scientific community with his revolutionary idea that everything we see, hear, taste, touch, and smell is not matter, but energy. In short, everything that “matters” is energy.

On an energetic and cellular level, catabolism usually refers to a breakdown of complex molecules, while anabolism is the opposite. When you hear about a person’s catabolic or anabolic energy, however, it’s a broader statement about the destructive and constructive forces alive within an entire person — not only one’s individual cells but also one’s anabolic and catabolic thoughts and beliefs.

Anabolic and Catabolic energy are predominant in organizations as well as in people. Who hasn’t worked in an organization characterized by catabolic energy, where employees consistently react to their circumstances with worry, fear, doubt, anger, and guilt? In case you haven’t noticed: thoughts are contagious. In a catabolic organization, when even a few people have negative feelings, those emotions can spread like a virus, “group think” sets in, and peoples’ thoughts become group “fact.” Once that occurs, the company can implode energetically in a swirl of gossip, negativity, conflict and contempt. What a mess!

The most successful organizations, by contrast, are those filled with powerful, positive, anabolic leaders, Anabolic leaders have the ability to motivate and inspire themselves and others to do extraordinary things; they have the ability to make energetic shifts in all levels of the organization. No matter how effective or ineffective you currently are in your role (at work and at home), you can transform yourself and others — as well as your organization — into a thriving, inspired, positive, productive, and successful entity.

Three Questions to Ask Yourself About Your Personal Energy?

1) When life throws up a challenge, do I judge it as “bad” (catabolic), or do I welcome it as an opportunity (anabolic)?

2) When I have a fight with a colleague or my significant other, do I take responsibility for my part in the conflict (anabolic), or do I reflexively cast the other person as the villain (catabolic)?

3) When faced with a problem, do I struggle mightily to come up with a solution (catabolic), or do I have easy access to my “higher coach”, where infinite creativity and innovation (anabolic) resides?

None of us are fixed entities. At any time, at any moment, we have the ability release the latent anabolic energy that lives there within us, right under the surface. We can ALL be anabolic leaders in our “organizations”. All it takes is a subtle shift in our perception – the willingness to say “I can!” and “I will!”

(With thanks to www.ipeccoaching.com)

[Editor’s note: If you’re interested in learning more about your own levels of catabolic and anabolic energy (both in your normal state and under stress), I highly recommend taking the The Energy Leadership Index (E.L.I.), administered by Dr. Clue and offered with a 1/2 discount for subscribers to this newsletter. This one-of-a-kind assessment enables “leaders” to hold up mirrors to their perceptions, attitudes, behaviors, and overall leadership capabilities. It takes about 20 minutes to fill out, followed by a 60-minute phone debrief.

For more information about the E.L.I (including pricing), drop me a line at 707-544-1014 or dave@drclue.com ]