When the rain comes

This afternoon, at the garden, I kind of on purpose got caught in the rain, which turned into an all out downpour. I knew it was coming–I could hear its distant rumblings and smell its warning in the stirring breezes, but I kept on digging…until it hit. And it hit hard and fast. By the time I took refuge in the nearby gardening shed, with the shovels and rakes and wheelbarrows, swathed in the scent of freshly cut grass and newly-turned soil, I was drenched to the bone, hair dripping and clothes stuck to my wet body. I happily sat on an upturned bucket in the makeshift shelter and watched the torrent of rain soak our garden plots, splashing upwards in the newly formed puddles, transforming the dry, dusty soil into a wet, moisture-rich haven, mother’s milk for the tender, newborn plants struggling to survive their first weeks of life. Everything turned a brilliant green.

The lightning flashed, the thunder rolled, and I couldn’t help but wonder: if plants need a good drenching from time to time, wouldn’t it do us good, too? Maybe it’s my frame of thought after witnessing baptisms at church the other day, or maybe it was from watching all the people out near the street hurrying, shoulders hunched, hands over their heads, attempting but failing to flee from the rain. It’s our first instinct — Run! Cover up! Hide! It makes sense: rain ruins our clothes, smears our makeup, flattens our hair, and washes away all the outward appearance we work so hard to put on and wear all day.

When the lightning lessened, though it was still raining, I went back to my gardening, mud sticking to my Crocs and working its way in between my toes, dirt speckled the back of my legs, my hair a damp mop, until I got chilled and sought the comfort of my warm car. I glanced in the mirror and saw a bedraggled plain girl looking back at me, makeup long gone and hair in tangles, dirt smeared on her face… but eyes wild with wonder. I felt alive, giddy from the craziness of being out in the elements.

I think staying out in a rainstorm is like life itself — we can run and hide when the storm hits or stay out there and learn how to weather it, soak it in, and though we may get a little beat up in the process, come out on the other side more alive and resilient. It’s easier to cower, keeping our lives all neat and tidy and dry and safe, but then I think we miss out on the adventure riding on the edge of the wind and the rain, beckoning us to try something new, step out in faith, bear through tough times…and grow.

Are you blind to your blindspot?

I knew I was in trouble within the first 50 yards.

It was mid-summer and I'd been riding for a good two months. In early spring, I had taken up the new-to-me sport of mountain biking, learning the basics from an experienced friend then getting out there and hitting the trails as soon as the snow melted. I embarked upon easy, rambling, single-track paths that cut through scenic groves of aspen, across meadows, and into deep mountain forests, with very few inclines or technical spots to maneuver through. These were beginner trails, but I was having so much fun I kind of missed the fact there were differing levels of terrain. I so enjoyed the breathtaking views and healthy 'burn' in my legs from pedaling for an hour at a time. I was feeling like a rock star navigating these routes with ease. So, I did what any brand-new rider would do (not): I registered for the Winter Park Mountain Bike race series.

The first race of the series was an altitude ride, starting at 8500 feet, approximately 10 miles long with an elevation gain of 2500 feet. I had a decent bicycle, a hard tail, but one that was much more lightweight than my previous hand-me-down bike, and with my thrift store biking shorts and colorful, sleeveless top with pockets in the back, I felt well-prepared for the competition. Water -- check. New cleats on my shoes -- check. Energy snacks in pocket -- check.  There was a chill in the air on morning of the race, and I couldn't tell if it was from the cool temperatures at elevation or from the pre-race jitters. I was excited to be a part of the athletic, well-toned crowd of participants that gathered at the start, giddy that I'd so quickly become a mountain biker!

The starting gun exploded, and we were off. The first 50 yards were uphill, and within minutes my legs were weak, my lungs were screaming, and I found myself immediately falling to the back of the several hundred women riders. Huh?  I'd been training...!? And in the back is where I stayed. Within the first couple of miles, I was exhausted, mentally and physically, a jumble of embarrassment, fear that I might not be able to finish, and sheer physical fatigue. I fought off the cry-feeling as I struggled to tackle the steep hill climbs, the rocky, uneven paths, the stream crossings, and the lack-of-oxygen at elevation. I wrecked. I wrecked again.  A woman who looked to be well over 80 years of age whizzed by me, as did a young girl with a pink dinosaur helmet. I lost one of my cleats which enabled one of my furiously-pedaling feet to fly off the pedal each time I hit a bump -- which was every few seconds. I couldn't help but have the "da da da, da da, da" tune spinning 'round in my head, visualizing the Wicked Witch of the West frantically pedaling through the tornado on her old bicycle. On one sharp corner, I sailed right off the trail, landing in a tangle of brambles. As I attempted to climb one particular hill, I came to a complete stop and had to walk my bike the rest of the way. I got stuck in the muck of the water crossings and even did an "end-o" when I hit a large rock square on, landing flat on my back, knocking the wind out of me, as the few riders behind me quickly swerved to not run me over.

It was obvious: I was in way over my head.  My leg was bleeding, my fingers ached from my death-like grip on the handlebars, and my mental well-being was, well, not so well. I was completely overwhelmed. As I passed one of the last water stations, I could hear the volunteer deliver a static message on the walkie-talkie as they started packing up the table: "That's the last one". Wow. Last place. Me -- last? I never get last place! This thought again triggered the cry-feeling. After what seemed like an eternity, I saw the arch of the finish line ahead, glistening like the Emerald City. Very few spectators were left, as the riders they were cheering on had finished long before me. I crossed over the chalked white line, lay down my bike, collapsed in the grass, and cried.

Accurate self-assessment is a competency of emotional intelligence. It's that inner awareness of our strengths and limitations, an ability to discern what we can and can't do. People who have it have a good clue what they can accomplish -- and what they cannot. They tend to be reflective and learn from past experiences. They are aware of their surroundings and where they fit in.
It's something that was absent before my race, and very present at the end.

In her book Insight, Tasha Eurich makes a surprising finding after conducting a series of surveys: "95% of people think they’re self-aware, but only 10-15% truly are." And the causes of this 'miss'? Blind spots (those hidden areas where we need to grow), the 'feel-good effect' (we feel better when we see ourselves positively and ignore our faults), and what she calls 'cult of self', which is our tendency to be self-absorbed. (https://www.amazon.com/Insight-Surprising-Others-Ourselves-Answers/dp/0525573941/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1534976016&sr=8-1&keywords=tasha+eurich+insight)

Regarding my mountain biking skills, prior to the race, I was obviously NOT in the 10-15 percentile. I missed. Badly. And I reaped the consequences. The humiliation and absolute, overwhelming exhaustion I experienced, not to mention how sore I was for the following week from the bumps and bruises on both my body and my ego, served as a healthy reminder of my lack of accurate self-assessment.

Where do you fall in that percentage? Are you truly self-aware of your strengths and limitations?
There are some indicators in those who struggle with this competency. They tend to want to appear right in the eyes of others and compete instead of cooperate. Teamwork and collaboration skills may be low (one of the areas I struggle with!). They often won't ask for help and exaggerate their own contributions and efforts. Those that are low in this emotional intelligence competency often set unrealistic, overly ambitions, unattainable goals, and push themselves hard, at the expense of other important aspects of their lives. Sound familiar? I see it now. I had no business entering that race -- but at the time my over-inflated view of my skills and abilities took precedence.

"Because your brain uses information from the areas around the blind spot to make a reasonable guess about what the blind spot would see if only it weren't blind, and then your brain fills in the scene with this information. That's right, it invents things, creates things, makes stuff up!" -- Daniel Gilbert

Hopefully your ability to accurately self-assess will provide valuable insight that prevents you from entering a mountain bike race that's beyond your capability. But you may notice it crop up from time to time in other areas of your life. Maybe you commit to spending more hours on a project than you actually have. Maybe you catch yourself bragging on an accomplishment, so you look good, or are caught embellishing stories to make them sound more grandiose. Maybe...you fill in the blank. Most likely, after the fact, you'll realize where you missed.  And if you don't, someone will probably let you know.

“Who knows, you may be that close. You could be uncovering a blind spot or two away to take your career to the next height...” -- Assegid Habetwold, author of The 9 Cardinal Building Blocks: For Continued Success in Leadership

Is there hope for those of us who struggle with this competency? Of course. We're talking about behavior, and behavior can be changed. We often just need a signal, a warning flag, an alarm which goes off when it's time to make a shift. How to develop this sort of intuition? For starters, try these steps:

• Assess.  Consider taking a social + emotional intelligence assessment, or the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, or a 360 multi-rater assessment to learn more about your strengths and areas of growth.
• Learn. Read a book, sign up for a workshop, or enroll in a class to learn new things. Be open to gaining fresh insights and perspectives to develop a mindset of ongoing growth and improvement.
• Ask. Reach out to friends, colleagues, and those close to you for feedback. This is a tough one, especially if you don't like hearing anything negative about yourself. But often the reflections of others are the only way to recognize a blind spot.
• Reflect. Look back on past choices you've made, especially those that caused angst, and journal about what went right and what went wrong.
• Monitor.  Observe and watch what others do, when they're successful and when they fall. A Zen proverb says, "It takes a wise man to learn from his mistakes, but an even wiser man to learn from others."

It's always a good idea to consider teaming up with a social + emotional intelligence coach to ensure you make progress as you head down the trail to more accurate self-assessment.
Though simple, these steps may just be what you need to move into the 10-15% of self-aware people in this world. And it may save you from unnecessary bumps and bruises that blind spots can cause -- which some of us, ahem, no names mentioned, were not able to avoid.

“We all have blind spots – those areas for improvement and growth. As painful as it can be to admit we’re doing things we never wanted to do and saying things we never wanted to say, it is this acknowledgement that enables us to take the first step toward change. Be gentle with yourself. Be real with yourself. Take baby steps.” -- Rhonda Louise Robbins

I get by, with a little help, from my friends

I don’t like it when someone offers advice to me when I didn’t ask for it.  You know those people who always have a better way of doing something, and are more than happy to share it with you?  How does it make you feel?  And how about when someone offers some ‘constructive criticism’ on the way you did something when you honestly weren’t even looking to them for input?

I went swing dancing a few weeks ago and carefully chose my outfit that night based upon style and versatility. I specifically chose to wear my Converse All-Star sneakers, primarily because one, they looked cool with my outfit, and two, the last time I’d worn heels and my feet were killing me.  Wouldn’t you know that later that night, a random “helpful” man took it upon himself to point out that I should wear boots with heels instead of the shoes I’d picked.  *?!*  Why he felt the need to offer this advice baffled me. I know, you’re thinking it was because I was dancing poorly, but I wasn’t. Really. And besides, he was the one who was not a strong lead and kept getting off beat.  My response? It was really mature. “I’m sorry, what?!  Oh, so you who have now known me for 5 minutes are suddenly an expert on my feet?  You, who have no idea how long I’ve been dancing, or how badly my back hurt last week from high-heeled shoes, or what my delicate lovely feet even look like? You (as I judged his dated button-down shirt and too-baggy jeans) who have no clue as to the advanced thought process it takes to put together a well-coordinated-yet-practical outfit for dancing?  You, man who doesn’t know me, really have the 411 on which shoes would have been best for me tonight?”  I really laid into him.  Well, not really, not out loud at least. But all the way home in the car I had that terrific conversation with him, in my head.

It’s a trite story to illustrate a point. We don’t like to hear advice we’re not looking for.  But when it comes to our work performance, or the way we are getting along with others in the office, or our leadership style, can we remain close-minded when someone offers their two cents worth?

“But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send, save me, oh save me from the candid friend!”  -- George Canning

Being able to accurately self-assess is a competency of social and emotional intelligence.  And if we’re not able to make an accurate assessment, there are times when we need others to step in and help.

Just because we think we are great at something doesn’t mean we are great. I’m always amazed at the try-outs they televise for American Idol.  You know, the ones that are really, really bad but they think they are really, really good.  Off tune is putting it nicely.  In their minds they truly think the panel of three will shout a unanimous, “You’re going to Hollywood!”, and are shocked when they instead hear Jennifer’s, “Sorry, Sweetie.”  How did this miss occur? You wonder why a good friend never pulled them aside to say, “Pal, listen, I love you, and you have so many talents, but singing just isn’t your thing."

No, it’s not easy to receive advice or correction, but candid feedback can give us the insight we need to be a better us.

It is a brave thing to be able to ask others what they think about you. And yet even braver to be OPEN to what they say. There is a proverb that says, “Faithful are the wounds from a friend…”  Wounds. Correction can feel just like that. It stings and if we’re not careful can leave a scar if we take it the wrong way. The truth is, it is much easier to stay right where we are and not grow or change. Most people hit a ceiling of emotional intelligence and are content to stay right there. If that’s where you’re at, then so be it. But if you want to develop, and thrive, and succeed – if you want to break through that ceiling and reach your fullest potential—you’re going to want to start asking for feedback, and even more importantly,  listen to it. We all have blind spots that we just can’t see clearly. By reaching out to close friends, trusted colleagues, or a coach, we can gain insights that will open us to growth and help us develop our weaker competencies into strengths.

How do you react to feedback?  Like I did with my dance shoes? I have to admit, after-the-fact, that the shoes I chose that night didn’t have the greatest traction on the dance floor, and I even developed a blister toward the end. Maybe random man was on to something there. Maybe next time, I’ll attempt to remain receptive to feedback.  Maybe.

The trouble with being too busy

I posted a picture of myself a few weeks ago relaxing at the pool on my lunch hour. I had to laugh at the comments that came in:  

“Must be nice.” 

“Work much?” 

“You must never need a vacation!”

“Some of us have the life!”

First of all, I had already worked about 55 hours that week by mid week and it was my lunch break. I don’t know about you, but though I often work right through the lunch hour, once in a great while, when possible, it is nice to take a break for a few minutes and relax. Eat lunch. Talk to a friend...and yes, even lay by the pool. Yet it’s almost as if taking a lunch break isn’t acceptable in our professional world, especially if it truly involves ‘breaking’ and not ‘still working’. Productive, results-oriented people don’t take lunch breaks, right?

Over the years I have gotten to know me and, despite its unpopularity, have learned that if I don’t spend some time outside each day relaxing or enjoying the moment, I tend to get tense, stressed, and negative. This directly affects my productivity, ability to stay positive, and how I interact with others. For me, taking a short break actually makes me more productive during the work day.

“We all have one life to live, but if we are too busy to notice the world revolving around us, then we are not living.” -- Rex Wilson

Are you really living?

Keep count one day of how many times you hear the response “Busy!” when you ask how others are doing. Our typical conversations consist of, “Hey, what’s going on? Too much, I’m crazy busy!” or “Do you want to meet this week for coffee? Would love to—but I have too much on my plate—maybe next week?!” Being overly busy has become our norm, but the downside is that it limits our ability to tune into our emotions and how we're feeling in the moment, which in turn affects our ability to respond well. Busy may be the standard – but how emotionally intelligent is it?

“It’s in the quiet that our best ideas occur to us. Don’t make the mistake of believing that by a frantic kind of dashing around you are being your most effective and efficient self.  Don’t assume that you’re wasting time when you take time out for thought.” – Napoleon Hill & Clement Stone

Music to my ears. Maybe my pool time is not wasted time after all.

Emotional self-awareness is a vital component of emotional intelligence. It's the ability to be aware of your own gut instincts and react appropriately to them. It’s being able to use your feelings as a valuable source of information to guide your decisions throughout the day. 

Why is it so vital?  

First of all, our inability (or refusal) to listen to our emotions can have many negative physical effects on our bodies. If you’re experiencing chronic headaches, lower back pain, neck or shoulder pain, and anxiety, these may be signals that your emotions are trying to tell you something.  

Secondly, if we aren’t aware of how we’re feeling, then we can’t manage our behavior, and if we don’t manage our behavior, we’re going to blow up important relationships by acting impulsively. Author and psychologist Daniel Goleman says this,

“If you are tuned out of your own emotions, you will be poor at reading them in others.” 

The social side-effects of not being emotionally-aware are irritability, treating others abrasively, and impatience. Think back on the last time you were, say, really exhausted. Did you like how you reacted to those around you that week? Most of us are too busy to even stop and reflect on how we’re feeling in the moment, which leaves many in react mode instead of act mode. It’s difficult to lead and work well with others when we can’t read how they are feeling at a given moment, let alone be aware of our own emotions.  

Finally, when we tune out our emotions, we may begin to fail to notice when our day-to-day actions are not aligned with our vision and values and find ourselves way off course.

Are you too busy?  Take this short, simple online quiz to find out:    http://www.proprofs.com/quiz-school/story.php?title=are-you-just-too-busy 

"People are clearly coming around to the idea of taking breaks and even 'doing nothing' in order to lead a healthier lifestyle," –Liz Pryor, author & speaker

In an article entitled The Importance of Emotions, the author says this:  “In order to take good care of ourselves it is important that we know what are needs are. Our emotions help us to know what are needs are through what we feel. If you feel anger you know that you have to solve a problem with a situation or a person and that you must change your behavior. When you respect your needs you feel happy.” 

Emotions help us stay aware of our needs, and the needs of others.

So how do we began to be more emotionally self-aware?

• Slow down so you can begin to listen to your inner voice.  It normally doesn’t shout loudly so if you don’t tune in you may not hear it. It will always take a back seat to a frantic lifestyle, and if you don’t stop and listen closely you will miss its song.
• Carve out some time each day for relaxation, meditation, and leisure.  I know, you’re too busy. We all are. But start with just a few minutes each day to do something that is non-work related that brings you enjoyment.
• Take notes. Get in the habit from time to time of jotting down how you are feeling – and why. You can keep a simple journal to record your range of emotions and the intensity of each emotion. If you prefer to track your emotions on your phone, there are many apps available to help:  http://appcrawlr.com/ios-apps/best-apps-mood-chart

 Because our emotions are essential in providing valuable insights and information about ourselves, others, and the situations going on around us, can we really afford to tune them out any longer?

The more adept we are at discerning what is shaping our moods and mental well-being, the more able we are to manage our behavior. The results? Greater productivity, effectiveness, confidence, and a feeling of being in control of our lives. Recognition alone can diffuse (or heighten) an emotional reaction. As you learn to know and understand your own emotions, you’ll also begin to be able to understand what drives the actions of those around you, improving relationships and connections.

When death loses its sting

In elementary/middle school of the 1970s, participating in gym class wasn't optional. You came to class dressed in your gym clothes ready for whatever the P.E. teacher had planned. Everyone cheered with delight when he brought out the colorful parachute. Everyone groaned in agony when it was time for fitness running tests. But when he announced that the game of the day was dodgeball, our faces morphed into a mosaic of mixed expressions. Some kids despised the game, some were indifferent, and some adored it.  But whether you liked it or not, there was no sitting out. Everyone had to play.

I fondly remember Circle Dodgeball. If you’ve never played, or maybe it’s been 40 years or so since you have, let me refresh your memory. Six kids were handed a firm, red, rubber ball, balls that carried a sharp sting when they came into contact with human flesh. Sometimes they left welts depending on the strength and niceness of the thrower, or if you were unfortunate enough to get hit with the little black rubber thing where the air goes in. The kids with the balls formed a makeshift circle around half of the gym floor. The rest of the students stepped inside the circle, eyes wide in anticipation for the game to begin. The goal was simple: Don’t get hit by a ball. If you get hit, you're out, game over and you join the others in circle. There were a few exceptions though when hit. If someone was lame enough to throw it at your head, you got to stay in, because, um, that’s dangerous (not that the entire game wasn't). And if you caught the ball, without dropping it, you got a free pass. But only the brave attempted that.   

The teacher blew the whistle and the balls started flying, a flurry of red whizzing into the tumble jumble of screaming, squealing adolescents in colorful shorts and t-shirts, dodging, ducking, hiding, jumping, running. Some kids were easy targets and some were impossible to hit.  And oh, and the strategies! Those with none got out immediately. Some didn't seem to even try (the girls who didn't want to mess up their hair and makeup), asking to get hit so they wouldn't have to run around. Some teamed up, back-to-back, to warn each other of incoming missiles. Some went under the radar, staying out of the action off to the side hoping to go undetected. Some tried hard for a while then got tired and quit. Some gallantly ran around, cocky and taunting, moving close to the throwers then quickly pulling back. And then there were one or two, usually the popular ones for some reason, who adeptly and athletically swerved and swayed, defiantly dodging the balls as they boldly reached out to make the catch.

It was a rough game. Some kids cried. Some laughed. Some sulked. And some just got mad. But one by one, as the balls flew through the air, the players were taken out, and the hoard in the middle grew smaller as the circle around them grew bigger. In the end, no matter how brave, how talented, how athletic, how fit, how agile, (or how popular), all had the same fate. Sure, some stayed in longer than others, but in the end, it really didn’t matter how the game was played, because every last kid got out.

And that was the game. After class, the plays were relived in the locker room as we changed out of our gym clothes. Stories about Kevin's crazy jump, or how Dwayne threw it so hard, or how Susie stayed in so long. And then it was on to the next class. The welts wilted, the stinging subsided, and the hurts and pains and triumphs of the game faded as we focused on retrieving our Social Studies homework from our Trapper Keepers.

This week many of us were disturbed by the news that two of our college classmates had died, suddenly and speedily with no fair warning. Not that there's ever a fair warning. Now, I know death is part of life. We all know that, but when it happens we’re just rarely ready for it.  No matter the age, or the circumstances, or the reason or [lack of] rhyme, death just always feels wrong. I don't even understand it really. I mean, lots of things end in this life, but not really. The day ends, but we have tomorrow. The meal ends, but we have dessert. Winter ends but spring comes. Relationships end but we make new friends. Jobs end but we find a new one or collect unemployment. But death...life ends and is no longer and we really don't know what's next. Oh, yes, I know some of you know that you know what you know that you know, and that is your faith. I too have a very strong belief in an afterlife, a heaven, or hell, but really, I have to admit that I don’t know for sure. I know what I want to believe. But I’ve not been there and done that yet, so really, I just don’t know.

I woke up thinking this morning about dodgeball. I don't know why, but it was on my mind. And death. And life. And how we all get thrown in the game without much of a choice. We are birthed into this world and the balls start flying. Some of us are able to dodge those first few balls but not all. Some little one's lives end almost as soon as they've begun. And it doesn’t make any sense at all. Others hang in there for a while but out of the blue get hit, way too early in the game, and leave us troubled to our core. Some try to avoid hits by lurking in the shadows of life, thinking that if they avoid really living they’ll be safe. For them we have pity. Some get weary and give up on their own. These make us so very sad. Some team up with others, then one gets hit while the other remain. That one’s tough.We feel great loss for the one hit and empathy for the one left. Some get nailed in the head, and somehow survive, and come out stronger than before. They inspire us. Some get hit hard but they manage to catch the ball in mid-air and end up surviving the blow, scoring a second chance.They give us hope. Then there's the ones with the uncanny knack for diving, twisting, athletically dodging all the balls that life throws at them. These we envy. 

Some seem to hate the game. Fear, discouragement, and weariness set in. We get tired. Why do we have to keep dodging all these damn red balls? It’s not supposed to be this way. Others become indifferent, or so it seems, with emotions shut off as they simply survive. I don’t care.What can I do about it?  Life sucks and there’s not much I can do to change it. And then there are those who seem to thrive in the game, either breezing through life and never getting hit or having figured out how to enjoy the game of life immensely, no matter how many near misses they experience. That was tough, but, wow, what a rush. I’m alive! 

But no matter how we navigate this thing called life, in the end, we all eventually get hit and we’re out of the game. Death comes to us all. It doesn’t matter how smart we are, how talented we are, how resilient we are, how healthy we are, how lucky we are, we’ll eventually feel the sting. We can spend our entire lives judging each other on how we “should” play the game, but why? Sure, the enjoyment of the game may be affected by our choices, but when it's over...we all end back up in the circle.

And then what? That’s where it gets hazy. Because none of us have ever finished the game and lived to survive it. In gym class, there’s always that next game. Next time, I’m going to move quicker. Next time, I’m going to jump higher. Next time, I’m using Bobby as a shield. But this isn’t Circle Dodgeball. I don’t believe in reincarnation, so I don’t believe we get a second chance to play this human life game again. But I also don’t think this is the end-end. This particular game will come to a close, yes, but then…well, honestly, I don’t know. But I'd like to think we’ll all end up together, somehow, somewhere, in the circle, and we'll talk and laugh and cry and share as we reflect on the game, and how it was played. What went well, what went wrong. What was hard and what was fun. We’ll remember how tough it was at times, but how delightful it was at other times. There’ll be a lot of nodding and “me too’s”.  And then, when we’ve reminisced, we’ll go get changed out of our old sweaty, dirty clothes and step down the hallway toward our next class. I don’t know what that looks like. I wonder if it will be fun like playing with the parachute. I wonder if it will be boring like being timed for fitness tests. I wonder if it will be challenging like this human life is, with lots of red balls to dodge. I don’t know. But I’m comforted that maybe, just maybe, we’ll all be there together to find out.  

And with that thought, though the pain of losing loved ones way too early in the game remains, death somehow loses a bit of its sting.  

10 Easy Ways to Destroy Trust

How many times have we watched it happen? He takes a few steps backward in preparation to kick, that confident look of determination spreading across his face. This time we really want to see it. Just once. He charges forward at top speed to launch the pigskin to the other side of the field--and at the very last minute, she adeptly pulls the football away, causing him to land flat on his back in embarrassment and, I’d guess a considerable amount of pain.  If you were Charlie Brown, would you ever trust Lucy again?

Stephen M.R. Covey, in his book The Speed of Trust, says this:  “The first job of a leader—at work or at home—is to inspire trust. It’s to bring out the best in people by entrusting them with meaningful stewardships, and to create an environment in which high-trust interaction inspires creativity and possibility.” 

Trust is a competency of social and emotional intelligence that must be cultivated in order to gain the respect and following of others. Without it, our relationships fall apart because of our inability to create a safe atmosphere of dependability and reliability.  Listen to how Brian Tracy, Canadian author and speaker, puts it:

"The glue that holds all relationships together--including the relationship between the leader and the led--is trust, and trust is based on integrity."

 Trust is a component that is simply vital to our relationships with others, period. And interestingly, while it takes a long time to build trust, it takes only an instant to dismantle it.

Here are ten sure-fire ways to destroy others’ trust in you:

• Betray confidences. If you gossip and share damaging information about others, it may temporarily make you feel better about yourself, and create a temporary affinity between you and the person you're sharing with, but know that they will be thinking, “If you’re willing to talk about others behind their back, what will keep you from talking about me?"
• Blame others for your mistakes. I know, it’s difficult to say “It’s my fault” or “I messed up.” It’s so much easier to point the finger at others when things go awry. But blame-shifting won’t go without notice.  It's like a dimmer switch on respect.  
• Break your promises. There’s not much that devours trust more than not following through on what you’ll say you’ll do. Of course there are times when something comes up that you have to change your plans. But if you are consistently one who doesn’t deliver, others' trust in you will be diminished.
• Remain closed-off and never share personal matters of the heart.Obviously there is a time and place to tell all, but the lack of ability to share with appropriate self-disclosure will create a barrier between you and your teams. The “me too” mentality goes a long way in building bridges and helping others realize that you are all in this together. Without it, high walls of distrust are quickly constructed.
• Be explosive and unpredictable. Have you ever blown a tire while driving? The sudden explosion can startle even the best of drivers and make steering extremely difficult, creating strong doubt that the car is going to perform as it should. If you are constantly letting your anger cause a knee-jerk reaction that 'no one saw coming', their trust in your performance will be left behind on the side of the road like pieces of shredded, burned rubber.
• Tell little white lies, and while you’re at it, tell some whoppers, too. Not speaking truth can get you out of some sticky situations, but when the dishonesty is discovered (and these things have a way of somehow always making it to the surface), then how will people know when you are being honest and when you are not? Friedrich Neitzche, a German philosopher, said this: "I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you.”
• Talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. I once knew an instructor who facilitated workshops on the importance of living authentically, tapping into the help of an accountability partner, but covertly hid her own dark, hurtful behaviors from even her closest friends and family. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?) the issues became public, and her credibility as a speaker on the topic was lost.
• When conflict arises, turn on those close to you. Disagreements are a part of being in relationship. There are healthy ways to resolve conflict and unhealthy ways. Choosing to shut people out, quitting relationships (or being quick on the trigger to fire employees) is an easy fix—and a great way to destroy trust.  [Note there are times when boundaries need to be set with very unhealthy people in your life and relationships do need to be ended.  But if quitting is your go-to technique for resolving all conflicts, know that you are doing a good job of ruining trust].
• Always put your own best interests ahead of everyone else’s. When others don’t feel like you regard what is important to them, their engagement and excitement for your plans, visions and dreams will wane. Believe it or not, making a habit of putting others first causes them to believe in you, trusting that you really care. To keep trust levels low, be sure to never consider the needs and desires of those around you.
• Consistently treat some people better than others. It’s the old saying, ‘Watch how he treats the waiter’. If you are a respecter of persons, rolling out the red carpet for some while trampling others underfoot will breed a fair amount of disrespect and distrust.

Again, in the words of Stephen M.R. Covey,

“Above all, success in business requires two things: a winning competitive strategy, and superb organizational execution. Distrust is the enemy of both.” I submit that while high trust won’t necessarily rescue a poor strategy, low trust will almost always derail a good one.”

When A Friendship Ends

Have you ever had a friend tell you they can't be your friend anymore?

Business partnerships, romantic relationships, and casual acquaintances come and go, and cause upset when they end, but we seem to attach a little more expectations of longevity to the relationships we call friendship. A friend is a person we know in depth, with whom we hold a special bond of mutual affection, (usually exclusive of sexual or family relations). They're our companion. Our confidant. One we can trust, rely upon, who will stand by us no matter what. But there are times when a friendship, for various reasons, can't withstand the sands of time. And it hurts.

When friendships come to a close, whether temporarily due to extenuating circumstances or permanently because of unhealthy habits, the pain you feel can trigger a number of reactions:

• Sadness.   You've suddenly lost someone dear to you. This can cause intense sorrowful feelings of emptiness.
• Revenge.  I know, it's immature, and equally hurtful, but we've all been there.  She has the gall to hurt me?  I'll just send a snippy little text back...
• Anger.  You invested a lot of your time, energy and heart into this friend.  And they think they can just walk away?  Now I'm mad...
• Global negativity. It's that feeling that this one event is indicative of your overall well-being and breeds thoughts of "here we go again" and  "see, nothing ever works out for me".
• Knee-jerk desperation. You're immediately hit with a vast, empty hole that the friend once filled, and it does not feel good.  Fine, I'll just replace them with someone new..."Next?!"

Which do you tend to choose?

While each of these emotions are valid, wallowing in any one too long will only retard your healing. And a word of warning: take care to be mindful of your actions while feeling these powerful emotions. Before you act -- stop and ask, "Will this help or hurt the situation in the long run?" While full of passion, actions based on emotion alone, without the wisdom of reason, can cause even more damage to both parties.

Resiliency, or grit, is that ability to bounce back after setbacks. Some of us have it, and some of us don't, especially when we're faced with something tough, like the loss of a friend, or other setbacks and failures. But it is a competency of emotional intelligence that can be learned and developed. Here are some quick tips that may be of help when faced with a painful loss:

1. Take care of yourself. We can't be resilient when we're lacking sleep, are malnourished, not exercising, or overly-stressed.
2. Challenge negative 'self-talk'. Ask yourself, "Is there any evidence to back up this self-doubt I'm feeling?" Probably not.
3. See disappointments as temporary, short-term and isolated. What just happened is specific to this particular circumstance, and most likely not applicable to your life as a whole.
4. Seek support from those in your life who care about you. Lean into your other friends and family and don't try to go it alone.
5. Do something that brings you rest and renewal. Can you get away for a few days to your favorite place? Go dancing? Take a long nap? Think about what brings you joy, and treat yourself to that luxury if possible.
6. Learn from others. It always helps to see what others are going through, and discover how they worked through their own disappointments. Outward thinking puts the situation into perspective and gets our mind off ourselves.

"Your choice:  victim or victor."  -- Author unknown

Loss of a friendship, or anything we hold near and dear, is tough. At times, the pain of loss can feel overwhelming. But we humans are created to be resilient. We can do tough things. We can bounce back and persevere in the face of setbacks, and with some hard work, grit, and persistence...we will.

Emojis to help with emotional self-awareness

I heard an interesting broadcast about a new app that a bright and creative Millennial is developing to help young people better cope with feelings of depression and suicide. The app is called Mood Ring and uses emojis--which some call the language of Millennials-- to log the user's feelings, with alarms that go off when too many "negative" mood emojis are recorded. The alarm triggers one of three friends, previously set up as an accountability team, in real time, to reach out to the user to check in.

The ability to be self-aware of how we are feeling in the moment, and why, is a key component of emotional intelligence. In an time where many  in the age group I call "older than Millennials" have a tendency to find fault with our younger generation ("they never want to work", and "they don't know how to communicate" are a few I've heard recently, to my chagrin), it's satisfying to learn of someone who not only understands the nature of the struggles at hand but is willing to create solutions that are applicable.

Here's an excerpt from this morning's interview:  

"STORM WHITE: Yeah, so we're often inspired by stories like the ones we just heard. And we wanted to create a platform that replicates the friendship and the bond we just heard of. And so that's kind of where Mood Ring, the name of our app, come in. It's an app that allows young people to track how they're feeling using emojis.

GREENE: These are the emojis that we're familiar with like on mobile devices? I mean, the smiley faces, the sad faces.

WHITE: Yeah, it was a playful way to address something that's really serious. So we wanted it not to be so dark."

Watch/read the entire broadcast here: http://www.npr.org/2016/03/23/471543322/that-moody-teenager-may-be-depressed-but-there-is-help