Michele Woodward

Powerful Coaching. Powerful Results.

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Plenty for Everyone

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Let’s say you feel frustrated and unhappy and can’t really put your finger on the “why” of it. Let’s also say that you’re someone who’s always putting the needs of other people ahead of your own, but you wouldn’t call it that. You’d call it “doing what I’m supposed to be doing” or “what I have to do right now”. Or “love”.

But there’s that niggling frustration, every single day. The sense that there’s something you’re not doing that you could be doing. Something that would be delightful and fun. Nourishing even. You just can’t see a way to do that AND do the thing you’re supposed to be doing.

So, let me ask you this:

If you went on a picnic with three of the dearest people in your life, and you opened the picnic basket and there were only three sandwiches, what would you do?

Would you say, “Oh, it’s okay. I love you so much and want you to be fed and happy, so eat the sandwiches. I’ll just sit here and pass you the mustard and a napkin and anything else you need.”

Would you squish down your own hunger so the hunger of others could be satisfied?

(Plenty of us do this every single day. We do it because we have heard that parenting, partnering, working, or serving needs to look a very specific way. We let that strict definition shape a box that’s increasingly smaller and harder to live in.)

(And sometimes we live inside the teeny tiny box because we’re not sure who we would be outside of it. We’re not sure if we’re exactly comfortable with how big we might become if we were to step outside.)

(And, then again, we worry that the person who’s not having a whole sandwich because of our needs might be mad or resentful. That’s awkward, uncomfortable and possibly fatal to the relationship.)

(And we are doing this in the first place because relationships with others are so important. More important, in fact, than our relationship with ourselves.)

(And we might have learned that love looks like doing stuff for other people all the time, regardless of the impact on ourselves.)

Back to the picnic scenario. You’re hungry and there aren’t enough sandwiches. Your gut says to let other people have what is there because it’s appropriate, it’s right, it’s safe. But you’re starving, aren’t you?

Might you consider a simple solution of dividing each sandwich into four equal parts so that everyone could have some? So everyone could be nourished? Including you?

It’s time to ease your frustration and own your right to your own well-being, my friends. And while asking for your portion might be scary, the odds are it will turn out beautifully. Because I know for a fact that the three people you love most in the world want nothing more than to share their sandwich with you.

Because they love you just as much as you love them.

 

[This piece appeared first on my Facebook page. Are we connected there?]

What You Fear Most

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If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this lifetime, it’s that anything I fear finds a way to poke its head up routinely.

If I fear bursting into tears in a difficult conversation, guess what happens? I fight tears all the way through until I explode.

If I fear bombing a speaking engagement, guess what happens? I fumble, mumble and fall flat.

If I fear saying something racially, culturally, gender-ly insensitive to a person I care about, guess what happens? I’m not really present and forget that Frances wants to be called “they” and that Ashley is now Chris and I feel like a dope.

Y’all, I am a mistake making machine. And that is because I am a human being. Human beings make mistakes.

And, here’s the trick, I’ve gotten to the place where I no longer fear making mistakes. I know, right?

Because I no longer fear making mistakes – because I know I am a mistake making machine – rather than beat myself up for stuff I do wrong, I take them as moments for learning. I can appreciate the clarity that comes from a mistake. I can find the illumination. The grace.

And, of course, when I make the inevitable mistake, I know the Aftermath Process: I acknowledge the mistake, I make all repairs necessary (including apologies or restitution) and I make a promise to try my very best to never, ever repeat that particular mistake again.

Many of us fear (that word again) being told we’re wrong. It’s like being called out as the mistake making machine that we humans are is the worst possible outcome.

But it’s not. It’s simply our opportunity to learn. To grow. To do something new.

I will admit to enjoying schadenfreude – delight in the misery of others – just as much as the next mistake making machine. And, yet, I have taught myself to not live in that gloating space.

Because I know that one of these minutes-hours-days-weeks it will be my turn.

And when it happens I want you all to help me acknowledge that I screwed up, help me find a way to repair and hold me to my promise to do better next time.

Because when we hold each other this way, we are building something together, rather than tearing one another apart.

And this is a second thing I have learned in this lifetime.

You Do You (As Long As You Agree With Me)

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The cool kids like to say, “You do you” as a way of showing they’re not judging and we’re all free to be… you and me.

Yet, have you ever noticed that when you actually do yourself, some people will hurry to tell you just how wrong you are?

You: I really like lime LaCroix water.

Somebody: You know that stuff is horrible. It’ll strip the enamel off your teeth. You should just drink regular water.

You: (blink, blink)

***

You: I think Taylor Swift is great.

Somebody: Seriously? She can only sing four notes and she should have never covered Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September”. Who does she think she is?

You: (blink, blink, blink)

***

You: I love Facebook.

Somebody: First of all, they steal your data. Second of all, who wants to know what you had for lunch. And third of all, do you not have a life?

You: (blinkety, blink, blink)

***

So, “You do you” becomes “You do what I say because I’m right and you’re wrong”.

Kinda icky, huh?

The Somebodies who would criticize your Being You-ness are investing not in the relationship but more in their own feeling of being right. They seek to validate their own viewpoints or to emphasize their own importance.

Don’t be that person.

When you make the space for someone to fully do themselves, you’re giving them a great gift – the gift of real acceptance. Because whatever they’re doing is ok by you.

But, then, when someone’s Being Them-ness is full of hate, or violence, or unkindness, what do you do? Do you suck it up and let them do them?

In a way, you do. But not without honestly saying your piece, such as, “I completely disagree with you” or “That is not my experience at all”.

You can firmly and without reservations do yourself and voice your perspective in the face of hate speech. In fact, you have a responsibility to do so.

When it’s not a high-stakes conversation, it pays to get curious. You might try something like this:

You ask why they like lime LaCroix. Their answer might be, “Because I’m working on my sobriety and I’m substituting a couple of glasses of LaCroix in the evening for a fifth of vodka.”

You ask why they like Taylor Swift. Their answer might be, “Because my mom and her mom are first cousins.”

You ask why they like Facebook. Their answer might be, “Because my aunt is homebound and it’s a good way for us to stay connected.”

All perfectly fine reasons, don’t you think?

They’re doing them. Which is very cool.

And now you know a little bit more about them, and your relationship benefits.

I know what I’m suggesting here is hard. Listening and not correcting is really tough for us human beings. And as a human being, I struggle with this – boy, do I struggle with this.

I’m trying to do it differently, though, by holding onto the idea that when you do you at your very best and I build you up rather than tear you down, we create enough space for me to be me at my very best, too.

I remember that it’s all about building stronger relationships.

Which is what the really cool kids are doing these days.

 

 

 

 

Prepared? Or Just Reacting?

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There are a lot of choices you make in the course of your day.

Paper or plastic.

Doughnuts or vegetables.

Car or bus.

Honesty or fudging.

Tweeting or keeping your thoughts to yourself.

So many choices.

There’s one big, unspoken choice many of us feel like we have no choice about at all: whether to be prepared or to simply react.

When I’m called into an underfunctioning organization with underfunctioning leaders, know what I see most often? Folks in back-to-back meetings from 8:15am until 6:30pm (or later), every single day with no time to prepare for any of these meetings let alone prepare for tomorrow’s meetings. They just sit in their chair at the table in the conference room and do their best to wing it based on what they know in the moment.

What’s the problem with that, you ask? Doesn’t that just mean that the work they’re doing is critically important? That they are a fast-paced, high-stakes, high-pressure, cool kids sort of organization?

Let me get back to that and tell you a story first.

I was an advanceman at the White House, and in a bunch of campaigns. The job of the advanceman is to go ahead of the principal and set everything up in advance (get it?) so the events flow easily and go off without a hitch.

For multi-day meetings with other foreign leaders, we might have five to six weeks of preparation and would get our schedule down to a minute-by-minute timeline.

This was all about being prepared.

Which really paid off when the event was underway and something unexpected happened. Like, meetings ran too long. Or news broke elsewhere. Or the button popped off the President’s suit coat (really happened. It was sewn back on by the traveling nurse with suture since no one had a sewing kit).

Through all my years of this kind of work, I discovered that the more prepared I was, the better I was able to react. Preparation had given me a container to work within, and even if something happened I hadn’t planned for I was able to get back on track quickly – because I was prepared to execute successfully.

Today’s workplace has lost the ability to prepare, it seems to me. We’re all about reacting.

And there is a certain adrenaline rush to being fully in reactive mode. It’s like being on the back of a bucking bronco, holding on for dear life. That frisson of energy: Can I pull it off?

Plus, there’s a lot of drama involved with living in a reactive mode which is entirely intoxicating to many, many people in the average office.

Finally, when you’re simply reacting with no preparation, it’s super easy to say, “Well, that went badly. Too bad we didn’t have time to think it through! We’ll get ’em next time!” and folks escape all responsibility for a less than ideal outcome.

Some folks like this. A lot.

So they spend more than 95% of their time reacting and, if they’re lucky, less than 5% prepping.

I’d like to propose a new approach to our days. What do you think would be different in your life if you spent 60% of your time preparing and 40% reacting? What could you achieve?

What if, rather than back-to-back meetings, you had back-to-back planning time?

What if every meeting you did attend was focused on preparation? What if every meeting drove toward decision-making, backed up by prep done in advance of the meeting?

What could you accomplish if you actually had time to think during the day?

The current paradigm of “You know you’re important if you have no time to actually get anything done” has got to go. People who are too busy to perform – don’t answer email, can’t take phone calls, winging meetings, on the road and unavailable all the time – are not cool.

They’re actually holding everyone else back.

I challenge you – especially if you lead a group of people and are intent upon reaching certain goals and even if you’re a full-time parent or retiree – to flip your paradigm away from willy-nilly reaction to purposeful preparation.

The promise is that you’ll get what you want more quickly, easier, with a greater ability to flow with anything unexpected which might come your way.

And that is how the real cool kids roll.

 

Talking About The Elephant In The Room

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Missed me the last couple of weeks? Yeah, it’s been frustrating for me, too. Try as I might, I’ve been unable to write anything I felt good about.

And that’s because there’s a very large, very gray, very wrinkly elephant in the room. Standing right there between us.

See, it’s like there are competing voices in my head. One says “write things people who might hire you will like because you are a business person, after all.” And another voice says, “Wow, writing like that feels contrived and inauthentic. Don’t do that.”

After some reflection and journaling and a few macaroons (the kind dipped in dark chocolate, if you’re interested), I’ve realized that when I merely show up and show myself, things tend to work out just fine.So that’s my intention with this space.

It’s a crazy world out there and – elephant alert – I want to write about how to cope and how to manage dealing with it all.

Here’s this week’s critical topic: How can you express yourself – how can you show up and be seen – in times like these?

Times where partisanship is applauded more than cooperation.

Times when trolls with screen courage unleash blistering vitriol at the slightest provocation.

Times when you’re not sure if you can take one more news report, one more headline.

But I’m here to tell you that if you swallow your voice, if you make yourself mouse-like, if you keep your head down and mind your own business, you will feel increasingly more awful than you feel now.

You will begin to feel as though you’re vanishing.

I work with clients who are Democrats, and clients who are Republicans, and clients who are independents. And some who live in Europe, Latin American or Asia. All of them – each and every one – are stressed by the tenor and tone of even chatting with people we’ve always thought of as friends these days.

Want to know how I try to navigate?

First, I never assume that anyone believes what I believe or interprets situations exactly how I do. As Stephen Covey suggests in his classic Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, I seek to understand and then to be understood.

This means that sometimes I get to say, “I get what you’re saying. I don’t happen to agree – can I tell you why?”

The best case scenario is when they say, “Yes, I’d love to hear your perspective.” And if they say, no, they’re not at all interested in what I have to say…I move along.

Second, I remind myself all the time that I am a learner. Curiosity is my hallmark and my day is not quite complete if I haven’t satisfied that particular interest. With that framework, I can hear your perspective with and open heart and mind…

Unless, third, you are voicing hateful, exclusionary, racist beliefs. If that happens, I will tell you directly that you are wrong and I will not stand for slurs, epithets or threats. And then I get myself out of your presence.

Because what we need in our world today is far less hate and far more cooperation.

We need people to show up and show themselves – the best parts of themselves – as we find solutions to all the problems we face.

I’m going to do my part in my own little patch. Join me by doing what you can in your own patch. And, patch by patch, we’ll become the change we seek.

Go Ahead, Criticize

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Loading the dishwasher can be very instructive.

Once, during a family gathering, a lovely person commented as I added the dishwashing soap and closed the door, “Oh, my mother would kill you. That dishwasher isn’t full – she never let us run it unless it was completely packed.”

I smiled as I turned on the power button and let it run, knowing that we’d need those dishes for the next family meal, and we’d have another huge load to run afterwards.

So, the dishwasher was 7/8s full when I ran it rather than 9/8s full when she wanted to run it.

And I was completely confident in my choice. Because I knew exactly why I was running the dishwasher at that moment. Plus, it was my damn dishwasher.

Some of us go into things with a highly critical approach. We’re wired like Mr. Spock from Star Trek to look at things logically, analytically, coolly. When a kid comes home with an A-, our first instinct is to ask “Why wasn’t it an A?”

Doesn’t that make you wince to see it written like that? But some of us just can’t seem to help it.

And if your critical nature is getting you the results you want, then by all means keep going. If, however, you’re not building the bridges you want, creating the relationships you seek or getting the results you aim for, then you owe it to yourself and others to change your approach.

The drive for analytical perfection eats people up. Executives who create unrealistic standards, impossible goals and nitpick results are executives who have employee churn and, ultimately, lower productivity.They think they’ll do better by applying pressure, but exactly the opposite is true.

I mean, even Spock was half human. And it’s tapping into your human side which changes things.

It’s “I’d love to understand your process – tell me how you came to this conclusion.”

It’s “I can see you worked hard on this and I appreciate it.”

It’s “May I give you some feedback on this?”

It’s “Wow, I would have never approached it this way, but what you’ve got here is really good.”

You might feel like perfection is a dishwasher crammed your way – as full as it can possibly get –  but I’m here to tell you that real perfection is paying attention to the reality of the moment. It’s knowing what’s needed yet being aware that someone else might have a very good plan you simply hadn’t thought of before.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a dishwasher to run before I start making dinner.

Making It Through The Chaos and Noise

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I saw my friend Nancy at a party the other night. After the obligatory, “Oh, it’s been too long!” and “You look great!” and “How are your kids?”, she said:

“Michele, you used to write your blog every week. Every Sunday I looked forward to hearing from you and getting a little insight and inspiration. What happened?”

Nancy said what’s been in my own mind. I started writing you all in 2006. Every week – every week for over ten years. It has been a very big part of what I do. And for some reason, I just stopped doing it.

I got into 2017 and felt myself sputter. I mean, over more than ten years hadn’t I said everything that needed saying?

Then, too, I started experimenting with longer posts on Facebook to great results. (If we’re not friends there, you can find me here.) So my writing needs felt somewhat satisfied.

But not totally.

The Wise Nancy said, “Michele, write about transitions. Write about dealing with the chaos we find ourselves in. Write about change, and coping with all the craziness. Write about that.”

Which is somewhat ironic because I have found myself in the same transition Nancy’s feeling. And I bet you’re feeling it, too. How could you not?

I used to think about transition in a very linear way – you started here, traveled a bit, then found yourself there. Finally, blessedly, relieve-adly there.

But now I see transition in a different way. It’s a bunch of stuff going on all at once. Different starting points, different middles, different endings, simultaneously.

You could be a person who’s sending a youngest child off to school while changing jobs while guiding an elderly loved one through hospice while starting a healthier routine while settling into a new house and getting marriage counseling.

Am I right?

And rather than there being a definite end point where you can breathe a sigh of relief and say, “Woosh. Glad that’s done” you end up saying, “OK, done. What’s next on my plate?”

Right again?

My best advice to you if you are human and dealing with the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, as Shakespeare would say, is to appreciate that a continual loop of  beginnings, middles and endings is the nature of our existence. It’s living.

Rather than resist, or pretend that it’s not happening by sticking your fingers in your ears while muttering “nanna nanna nanna, I can’t hear you!”, why not get curious? Ask yourself what there is to learn at this point of the process. Learn whatever it is. Then find the way to love that you are on a distinctly human journey, accompanied by other people on their own human journey.

You can call it transition if you want – but really what it is… is living.

 

The Thing About Making A Plan

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The first business plan for my coaching practice was written on the back of a placemat while waiting for a lobster in an out-of-the-way shack in Maine. It was 2004, and I was on my way to visit some friends for a little R&R. I started thinking about my business and made a few notes:

– How much money I wanted to make in the next year

– How I would price my services to meet my income goals

– How many clients that meant I needed

– What kind of programs that meant I needed to offer

– What kind of additional training I would need

– How I would talk about my services

While I deconstructed a delicious lobster, I noodled on my plan. And when I removed the very attractive bib from around my neck and paid my check, I had a strong, workable direction for my business.

And I put that one-year plan in my purse and didn’t look at it again for six months.

Surprisingly, though, in that six months, I had done everything on my plan. Ahead of plan.

That’s right – I didn’t obsess, or over-think. I just executed.

Because the mere process of creating the plan – just putting my to-dos top of mind – catalyzed my action.

Now, there are those who detest plans. Maybe because they think plans are too rigid, don’t allow for creativity, aren’t that spontaneous, won’t accommodate serendipity.

[These people tend to – in Myers-Briggs talk – have a strong preference for “Perceiving”, the dear darlings. They value flexibility above all and will do anything in their power to preserve their ability to go with the flow. And I completely get it. That’s why I started this post of with the lobster story – just to show all those P people that planning can be easy. And tasty.]

A great plan, though, is not judged on how many tabs, tables and cross-references it includes.

A great plan is judged on how well it works.

With a plan, you know where to put your energy.

With a plan, you have a direction.

With a plan, you know what to say a whole-hearted “Yes!” to, and what to put in the “When There’s Time” file.

And planning can be easy. Easy-peasy.

Want to do one yourself? OK, take out a placemat-sized piece of paper. [lobster bib always optional.]

Answer these prompts:

– What do you want right now, more than anything?

– What’s your life going to be like when you get what you want? What’s it going to look like?

– Who are you when you’re at your best? What elements are in place? Which of these things already support getting what you want?

– What’s the first thing you need to do?

– Whose help do you need to do it?

– When can you start?

Focus, and put your best effort into these questions. When you’re done, you’ll realize that you have a plan, sugar.

Then fold it up and put it in your pocket.

And I’ll bet you, in six months, you’ve accomplished everything that needs doing.

Bet you a lobster dinner.