Recently, I had an exchange with an instructor who wanted to solve what she believed was the problem. As we communicated further and I provided additional information, it was clear to any objective observer the issue was different. Nonetheless, she began to propose a solution, and rejected input to the contrary on the basis of her education and instinct. In other words, she knew better.

After yet another unsuccessful attempt to penetrate this pseudo-omniscient wall, she demanded an in-person conference to alleviate miscommunication and share her philosophies. At which point, presumably, her brilliance would convince us she was right and her path had to be taken.  I value my time and don't play games, so my response was a firm and final 'no'. The next morning, her formal extrication from our contract was found in my inbox, with one last insistence that the issue was her version.

The experience was a reminder of what can happen when even intelligent people come up short in the art of listening. Not only is there skill involved, but trust, maturity, patience, and a willingness to dispense with ego so others can be truly heard. Our inner voice becomes clearer, and what initially feels passive quickly morphs into a highly creative force.

I've always enjoyed the energy of Ed Brodow and his negotiation camps. His Listening Tips and Tips for Asking Questions are simple, straightforward and spot on. Of particular resonance is his recommendation that one develop the desire to listen. You have to want to do it, and to view listening as a strong tool. 

Embrace the value of this art, and choose to be present as a gift to ourselves and the partner with whom we've entered this mutually beneficial and sacred space.

First things first: Happy New Year! Here's to a 2013 rich with promise for you and yours.

Let's get right to it...

I've never done what I am about to do, but the experience was so surreal I couldn't help but share it.

Last month, a nonprofit association I helped found and led for many years held an annual Holiday Social. After some good gnoshing and drinks, participants were asked to share their thoughts about where the organisation could go and what they'd like to see. Many ideas were shared - some were good, but not all - and the board of directors indicated they'd get back to the group and community at large with some thoughts.

Before the board could hold its January meeting and discuss this amongst themselves, an attendee sent an email to the board president, another director, and me.

Why me, you ask?

I retired from the association over three years ago, but still operate in a peripheral advisory role. In many respects, I am the association's organisational memory, but ultimately, just another member. The community, however, has had a particularly challenging time "letting me go". Stakeholders and others still say "your" when referring to the organisation as if I'm still in a leadership role (even if they themselves are members), and I am asked about the group's activities or interests or contacted to make decisions on its behalf. Though I typically respond in a manner which clearly reminds I am primarily a member, there are days I seriously consider no longer showing up at events so I can have a break from the linkage. There are some people, however, who have inverted this scenario and view my presence as the Queen half of a monarchy, a founder who simply cannot move on. They couldn't be more wrong, but being wrong has never stopped anyone before.

To get back to the story, no one responded to the email over the holiday season. After all, we have families, businesses, and other obligations in addition to our civic involvement. You know...lives. So another email arrives a couple days after the New Year pinging us again and asking for feedback.

Not only did some expressed ideas in the email show a lack of understanding of the association, but many had already been tried, discussed, or reviewed/revisited throughout the nonprofit's history. It was a very basic missive delivered with 'silver platter' flourish, and the writer clearly felt his ideas were unique, daring, outside the box. I didn't. Thus, after that second ping in early January, I briefly, professionally, and honestly shared that opinion.

What happened next could only be described as a Linda Blair experience.

A self-professed marketing expert and journalist who received "national awards" - essentially imploded. Not only did he launch into an endless stream of ad hominem attacks against me, but he carelessly ripped through the association with one erroneous and uninformed assumption after another. When I responded with factual information about the nonprofit's history and progress, he vomited straw man arguments and attacks. The nonprofit's president called him and urged him to pick up a phone and put an end to his irrational tirade, but he ignored this olive branch.

When all was said and done, he was so emotionally flooded and in such a state of denial and projection that I was labelled the amateurish anti Christ who'd insulted and demeaned him, and he was the innocent and brilliant victim. You can't make this stuff up. Needless to say, he played his hand so poorly that any chance of working closely with the association, or serving as a director, was severely compromised.

He sent yet another email, prefacing it with "this will be my last response". It was rude and unhinged, and again tried to juggle playing the victim card with delusions of grandeur. Any comments I'd made about the association in response to his false assumptions were simply ignored.

In an effort to get him to seriously reconsider his behaviour, I indicated I'd be fine if he shared our entire exchange with everyone he knew. I asked if he would be if I did so with every public, private, and nonprofit leader I know - including media. The association president wrote again, taking him to task and expressing profound disappointment. Despite the prior 'last response' promise, he sent one more "You're nuts!" one liner. He then proceeded to remove a profile he'd written of me and the association, and deleted his book review. We later learned he deleted everything he'd written about the nonprofit association over its 12+ year history as well.

Wow. Talk about scorched earth and dodging a bullet...

Lessons Learned

The obvious moral of the story for all of us is don't go off the rails if your opinions don't dazzle clients or your audience the way you thought they did. Use it as an opportunity to get clearer on what they've tried, what worked, what didn't, lessons learned, and other probing questions which position you to give the best and most effective advice possible. Leave the tantrums for toddlers. 

As for me, the first lesson is no matter how tempting it may be to want to engage and turn such a situation around, know when to simply stop trying to reason with those just looking to avenge wounded pride. The second is to heed the loud voice in your head or feeling in your gut. This wasn't the first time this person sent emails with ideas which didn't really connect, and my original plan was to simply ignore him. We can't get back the hours or days we lost responding to his deep-in-the-cave scud offensive.

The unfortunate part is I agreed with many of his observations about the history of the association. Many of his perceptions about the 'why' were wrong, but some weren't, and I would have welcomed an intelligent and informed dialogue about the numerous reasons which contributed to it *and* compelled me to write my book. He would have come away much better equipped to provide workable insights and ideas, and it could have been a true win-win.

Finally, if you're reading this and require SEO or internet marketing consulting, you might want to consider what you're in for if the subject of this blog gives you advice you don't like or agree with.

A good consultant is not only a visionary and advisor, but a great listener. S/he has to be willing to get the lay of the land: what's been done before, what worked, what didn’t, why, who was involved, when, where, how, lessons learned. This is critical data.

When I am retained by public or private entities, one of my primary objectives is to understand their operations so I can make meaningful recommendations. Jumping in with a slew of opinions before undergoing that process can be counterproductive, and charging a significant amount of money while wasting client time isn't likely to endear me to them.

I participated in an open forum recently, and many participants offered flourishy ideas which had already been done. A handful of attendees asked questions to gain a better understanding of core mission, demographics, best practices, and resources. The poignant takeaway was that some were there to be right and shine as experts, whereas others wanted to learn and provide effective forward movement. It became immediately clear who I would hire for my own business concerns - and who I wouldn't.

Redundancy as a general concept has some beneficial application. However, providing information your client already has is tantamount to driving on bald tires - and a flat or blowout is imminent. You'll have plenty of time to impress them with your wizard-like skills throughout your engagement, but recognise this will also include knowing when to stop talkin.

Interesting words to pair together, but if you've heard anything about today's Newtown, Connecticut tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School - where 20 children and six adults were killed before the suspect took his own life - they'll make sense.

As I went about my work day, every face I encountered showed signs of sadness, strain, or stunned disbelief. Words aren't required to describe how many parents around the nation and the world felt, myself included. It was hard to shake the tragic knowledge that parents of twenty kids were knocked to their knees today, not to mention the loved ones of the others senselessly massacred. The thought of their innocent lives being snuffed out as they sat in class was at times overwhelming.

Dozens of times throughout the day, I wanted to take our own child out of school -- or stop in just to hold her for a moment in extreme gratitude. By the time we connected that afternoon, all I could do was hold her so tight she almost couldn't breathe, look deeply into her eyes, and swallow the lump in my throat to give her a weak smile of normalcy. Many colleagues and friends waited at bus stops to hug their children and grandchildren and tell them they were deeply loved.

I don't know if I will mention today's events to our child, but we will take the opportunity to reinforce safety precautions and emergency procedures.

Peace.

Years ago when I lived on the east coast, I had a weekend ritual. It didn't matter if it was Saturday or Sunday, and typically depended on schedule.

At about 3 AM, I'd be showered, dressed, and out the door on a one hour drive to Delaware Water Gap, Pennsylvania. A small bag of organic trail mix, jug of water, my car keys, and a Walkman were all I took with me as I began the solitary hike and climb up Mount Tammany. Sometimes I'd listen to James Taylor. At other times, AC/DC, Rush, Enya, or Depeche Mode. And at still other times, silence and the sounds of nature around me.

Less than an hour later, I'd reach the top and find a spot to sit or stand. Once in a while there was another person or two nearby. Amazing how little I thought about risk, danger, or my safety. Or things like bears and mountain lions. In retrospect, I understand why friends and family thought me a bit odd for what they termed 'reckless thrill seeking activities'. I didn't see it that way, of course, and still believe we create our reality. Since I wasn't obsessing over who or what would kill or harm me during my numerous expeditions and Xtreme sports, I manifested a bubble of safety while pushing boundaries and learning a tremendous amount about myself and the world.

But I digress...

When looking out over the scape I'd see rolling green hills and slivers of water peeking through a wall of foggy mist. My excitement would build as the sunrise began, a kaleidoscope of colours exploding across the sky. The sun's heat caused the fog to pitch and roll as it began to dissipate. Then in an instant...poof! It was all gone and a beautiful and quieting scene of water, sky, and land assailed my senses. I'd sit a bit longer to take it all in and sort my thoughts, but soon began my descent and return to my vehicle. I drove back in silence or music, but with a much keener awareness of my tweaked soul's replenishment.

On one rare occasion I brought a friend along for the shared experience. While I didn't entirely regret it, his 'top of the world, Mum!' slash over the top of the mountain added a decidedly different feel.

To this day, the curtain I draw round myself to centre is a major part of what makes me tick. These days the route is less Xtreme, but nonetheless intrinsic. An article written about me five years ago discussed the challenge in carving out time for self without alienating loved ones, and how critical the space is for me to pivot from an introverted disposition into success and overall accessibility. In what ways do you recalibrate?

Earlier today, I read a colleague's thoughts about how we spend our time and the excuses we make when we don't want to engage a decision or challenge ourselves with a different path. He mentioned television - oh that great distraction - as a common patsy used by those who claim they don't have enough time.

There is no telly in our home. We run or have an interest in seven businesses, participate in a variety of civic/social/professional activities, and are raising a very demanding child. When we say we don’t have time, it’s not a throwaway justification for wanting to vegetate in front of the tube. We are prioritising.

Because of our commitments, time management skills are critical to our existence. So is remaining clear on what’s important and meaningful. As a result, we are adept at moving pieces around on the board to achieve what is of interest and value (to us). Sometimes what a third party deems important won't make the cut, but it doesn't mean we can't appreciate its significance in the multiverse for others.

What matters to you, and how do you make it happen?

I've gotten an email here and there asking where I'd gone. 'Nowhere and everywhere' was my response.

As serendipity would have it, Chris Brogan's email arrived at 2am this morning (yes, I was awake to read it). I'd rather not explain who he is or what he does; you can go here. What I can say is I've always liked his messages, and this particular one bumped me out of a stage I'd been in since mid September.

Unlike Chris, I wasn't dealing with depression or a sense of failure. Without getting into the long, gory details, it really came down to a moment in time when a "What if?" opportunity began to consume me.

I can't do anything about the situation right now. It's a question of timing in life, and the ability to take an unprecedented chance on another clearly available course.  But dancing with things like this isn't new for me: I've spent my entire Life exploring its aspects at sometimes Xtreme or uncommon levels. Though I'm still very much that eagle which soars and commands its domain, the wisdom of my years has tempered the unceasing urge for flight. This change, if made, would reverberate at a grand scale. What to do...if to do...how to do...when to do...

Or not.

So there I sat for over a month, contemplating "what if" and "should I?" whilst going through the motions of business and social activities. Along came Chris's post, and I was reminded that I didn't have to remain in my cave until I could emerge with a profound and definitive course of action. To do so would have bred fear, fear of failure, and a funk I don't have the luxury of indulging.

Not a big 'aha' here, but certainly an appreciation for the value of each moment and the reminders/lessons it can bring.

Back to flowing....

Today I was out all day in meetings. After the first one and in route to the second, I reached for the trusted iPhone chained to me...only to discover it apparently failed to charge the night before as expected.

I stared at the black screen and pressed the home button.

Nothing.

Ah, perhaps I'd done the hard power 'off' by mistake.

No.

The initial flash of panic -- "Where's my husband? How's my daughter doing? Did I miss an important email, call, text?" -- then gave way to the recollection of times past when I deliberately refused pagers and mobile phones. I was an unapologetic free spirit who didn't want to be summoned, chained, or subject to anyone else's whim.  Where was that carefree woman now?

As it turns out, lurking right beneath the surface. I opened the windows and sunroof, allowing the wind to whip through my hair and stroke my senses. I inhaled the fresh air, and knew all would be well until I could arrive at my next destination and recharge the phone.

How did so many of us become chained to our phones, frenzied about the 'what ifs' and imagining all sorts of potential emergencies requiring our immediate attention?

I've been all over the world, and gravitate to environments where time has slowed down, and moments we too often take for granted are instead cherished. No matter how brief, that opportunity to break the chains and recalibrate was a poignant one.

As a long time community and business leader, I'd also given time and money to too many causes to name, many of them struggling despite annual fundraisers, donations, and campaigns to help populations which slipped through the cracks. So I started thinking...what if everyone in the world (who could, of course) gave one dollar?

That's it. Just $1. And what if, after millions were raised in this manner, the community voted on causes - big or small - that we wanted to assist? It's not a novel idea, but an interesting social experiment I decided to create on IndieGoGo: The Power of a Dollar.

We'll see what happens.

10/5/2012
UPDATE: Our Indiegogo campaign was removed for "suspicious activity". When we contacted them to learn more, we were asked to send information (they could have found on the internet about us) from our "suspicious" email address to confirm who we are.

That's just dumb. If you don't trust who we are, why would sending you an email about our very public legal  mailing address change anything? It's like being asked to write a check for $0. No thanks; I don't play games.

Instead, I chose to search for another crowdfunding site with a bit more intelligent policy and process. We'll keep you posted....

Some of you probably thought I was going the route of 9-1/2 Weeks, replete with visions of the erotic food-feeding scene. Alas, not today...though that movie is perhaps one of the last times I thought of Mickey Rourke as hot.

I digress.

Tonight I took a quick detour into Facebook to see what (if anything) I'd missed over the last couple of days. Other than the opportunity to spread birthday cheer to several connections, it came down to the old 'plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose'. In other words, not much. There was one 'debate' in which my husband was involved about affirmative action, Obama, and radical Muslim extremists, but it wasn't very long or in depth.

Years ago, I might have jumped in and annihilated logically fallacious arguments, but I've since learned to choose my battles and eat quality food. I quickly reminded my partner one should not eat food thrown on the ground, then complain about the dirt.

Sometimes it isn't always easy to see if a kitchen is dirty, and thus truly assess the quality of food one ingests. However, over time the source and method are revealed, and one must choose whether or not an aspect of the meal is worth getting a bit of unclean matter stuck in your teeth.

I know, I know....greasy spoons hold appeal. And just when you think you have these things neatly sorted out, here comes the haute cuisine of edible dirt. Heh. Bon Appétit!