Tag: Personal Development

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Career

Human Engineering Skills

“15% of one’s financial success in life is due to your technical knowledge and about 85% is due to your skill in human engineering.”

– Dale Carnegie

I love when smart people say what I’ve been thinking in a much more eloquent way than I ever could (I guess it’s a long time until I get some quotes of my own…). I’ve been at a training all week to get certified in one of my favorite approaches to life – Crucial Conversations – and our trainer led with this quote on day one.

I’ve always believed that for most jobs (at least the jobs I come across in my world), there are many technically qualified people. It’s not hard to find people who have the technical skills to do what you need done – marketers, trainers, writers, accountants, volunteer managers, sales people. It’s much harder to find people who have the personality and people skills to blend with your team. But “human engineering” sounds WAY cooler than people skills, so that’s what I’m going to go with from here on out.

Hiring for human engineering skills and then training for technical knowledge isn’t a new concept. Nor is the importance of said people skills. I do think, however, that we often lose sight of its importance because it’s an intangible and we don’t know how to ask for it in a job description or posting. Describing it as the “X Factor” isn’t helpful, nor is the “It Quality.” Yet, we somehow know those people when we see them. Carnegie seems to almost quantify it and make it sound quasi-scientific with the term human engineering – like it’s an actual valuable skill rather than some touchy-feely business you can’t quite put your finger on.

Crucial Conversations builds on this idea. Through these concepts, we can identify successful human engineering skills that result in better handling of difficult discussions. And I would certainly make the argument that knowing how to handle difficult situations is what separates the good human engineers from the great ones (and increase their own financial success – thanks, Mr. Carnegie!). I’ve always admired people who can say almost anything to anyone, regardless of the situation, and walk away with everyone feeling better about where they ended up. I absolutely think those are skills are worth paying for – knowing how to get to the heart of the issue, speaking candidly and establishing mutual respect. They’re more rare than we think and it’s time for the market to recognize the necessity of those skills and pay up.

I’ll have more to say about Crucial Conversations in the future, but for now, check out the book and get yourself to a training if you can. Developing your human engineering skills is well worth the investment, and if Carnegie is right, that investment should come back to you in no time at all.

Categories
Inside My Head Libby

Grandmothers

I just found out that my co-worker’s grandmother just died. She was – understandably – wrecked and had to leave work. Today, we are all sharing thoughts with her to show support and it got me thinking about my own grandmothers and what I learned from them:

  1. Always have a good time. My maternal grandmother was a party girl – my earliest memories of her revolve around entertaining: hams, turkeys, bloody marys, smoking and swing music. While my mother has a different view of things, to me it was always an environment of joy, celebration and friendship. The warmth she exuded while entertaining was the same whether the house was full of people or just the two of us. Either way, she taught me that it’s important to have fun with the people you love.
  2. If all else fails, make fudge. My paternal grandmother was not the warm and fuzzy type. She was serious, cranky and distant…we had very little in common. But we still managed to connect on a very basic level: she made the best fudge ever. She may not have been able to hug and snuggle me, but that fudge let me know how much she loved me. (That and her mac ‘n cheese…yum…)
  3. A place of refuge. When I was in college, times were tough for my family; we were going through a lot. I didn’t know or understand the extent of things, but I did know that my parents had a series of difficult decisions and there was a lot of stress. My grandmother stepped in with the option for me to live with her. She wasn’t one for heart-to-hearts, but she offered me a place to decompress and process in peace.
  4. Music is important. With both grandmothers, music played a role in our relationships. At both houses, there was always music in the background (my paternal grandfather was a drummer in a Dixieland band). When we would arrive at my grandmother’s house, she would direct us upstairs to “put on your suits” and go get into the pool – she had an old “boom box” that she’d put in the window from the kitchen and blast swing music while we swam. They were both one-woman audiences for all our shows and musicals. They taught me songs that I sing to my own children.

I am under no delusion that my grandmothers were perfect, or that they were even good mothers. But they were important people in my life, people who offered support, guidance, a way out and love…to me, they are wonderful foundational pieces of my childhood and my adulthood. I thank them for all they were capable of giving and for giving it – I think that might be the most important lesson: giving something is better than giving nothing…the smallest things can end up being bigger than you’d ever think possible!

– Libby Bingham

Categories
Career Libby

Weakness?

My friend recently went on a job interview. It was a group interview, just her and five staff people sitting around a table…gulp! That’s fairly intimidating, but she said it all went well…until the last question:

“If you were interviewing you for this position, what would be your biggest concern about your taking the job?”

That’s basically code for what is your biggest weakness. How do you respond to that? She said she came up with something clever and somehow turned it into a positive (lots of bobbing and weaving!). And that’s exactly what you have to do, right? In life – especially at work – you constantly have to turn a negative into a positive, continually finding ways to overcome areas in which you do not excel.

But you can’t let your weakness define you – if you do that, you’ll never move forward. If you can’t answer that question by spinning it into a positive, game over. Maybe it’s a little cheesy, but a “weakness” is simply an opportunity to learn new things and build your skills. If you look at it as a flaw, you’ll never stretch and grow. Yes, it’s true that introspection is difficult, but the rewards of overcoming your weak spots are what will propel you into awesomeness. And get you the job.

– Libby Bingham

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Inside My Head Melissa

“The mind that is not baffled is not employed.”

I took a bath last week (let me add that the bath was in addition to multiple showers). It was therapeutic in an unconventional way. I was feeling a little down and felt like I deserved an answer from the world on what’s next, and I thought a bath would help me sort things out. I try to remind myself that I don’t “deserve” things, that I need to work for them and I get that, but I think it would be nice if while I was driving down the proverbial highway of my life a sign said “Get off here.” I don’t need to know exactly what I’m doing off that exit – just that I got off at the right exit.

So back to the bath. I’m sitting there with my face inches from the water so that my hair is gently swaying below the surface. All the delicate strands crisscrossed. They made, dismantled, and remade shapes (there was a real fractal-like quality about it) and I wanted this beautiful moment–where I was so focused on the gentle movement of my hair–to reveal something about what I should do next. Spoiler alert: it did not. Looking back, it would have been bizarre if my hair spelled “humble” like Charlotte’s web…that would have been life changing because it would mean that I have lost my marbles completely and I’m not ready to deal with that kind of change.

I wonder why at times when we feel lost, we also feel a little hopeless. I don’t have the answer to that and I don’t have the answer on what my next life move should be, but I reminded myself that it’s okay – that while I’m lost, I’m not hopeless. In a few weeks or months or maybe even next year (please, world – don’t make me exercise patience for that long) I won’t feel lost, but in the meantime, I keep coming back to these words and they are very comforting:

“The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings.”

– Wendell Berry

– Melissa Grant

Categories
Career Karen

Make an 80% Decision

The difference between a great decision and a mediocre one is one word: doubt.

I’d rather make a great decision and be 80% successful with 20% room for error, than to second-guess my decision, doubt it and then do 100% n.o.t.h.i.n.g!

I’m someone who will default to performing at 80%. The advantage? Things get done. Not perfectly, but they get done.

In school, when children bring home a straight A’s report card they sometimes are rewarded with gifts and money and other fun things. However, when you come home with a straight B (minuses!) report card, I’m pretty sure there’s no bicycle in the driveway waiting for you.

But here’s the thing: I’d rather perform with B’s and get things done. The bicycle can wait.

Why? Because there’s no such thing as perfect. If I adopt that mindset, my stress levels will be through the roof.

I’m comfortable with an ‘almost perfect’ outcome.

For example, my company is being built on 80%. If I didn’t have this philosophy, I’d still be in Vancouver in a senior leadership role for a luxury footwear company working a 9-5 job. Well, actually, more like a 60-hour a week job.

Taking a leap of faith is like committing to doing something at 80%. The remaining 20% is the cushion, the room for error, the room for growth and, best of all, room for the “aha!” moments which arrive at my doorstep unannounced. The 20% buffer rocks!

My mistakes don’t define my success. However, they absolutely contribute to my success. My shortcomings, those moments where I find myself thinking “I have no idea what to do” turn into amazing lessons for my personal development.

Yes, in the moment or errors, I’m being stretched wayyyy out of my comfort zone. It’s like I’ve been thrown into a stormy ocean of “what to do ” waves! But I don’t drown. I’ve never drowned. Each time I’m in that “I don’t know what to do” predicament, a life vest of new thinking is thrown my way.

Those 20% flawed moments provoke me to ask this question: “What am I going to do about it?” and “How do I get through this?” They force me to look beyond my limited understanding, to seek out help and ask for insights. I read more, explore more and research more. That 20% flaws create an “uh oh” in me that forces me to think. And when I take time to think, I’m welcoming life to teach me. I am a student. I open myself to knowledge and understanding that far surpasses my limitations.

My 20% mistakes keep me motivated and, in turn, I remain true to my original commitment: “Get it done.”

If one of the principles enveloping my business is, “Karen, you’ll figure it out. You’re 80% ready, go for it. Get it done.” then the 20% room for error plays an essential part and empowers me all the more.

Why are we worried about doing something at 80%? Our reputation? Our ego? Why do we put so much pressure on ourselves to function at 100% in our decision-making and in our execution?

Quite frankly, the only way you can do anything at 100% is within a team context. When I was fortunate to lead an incredible team of managers at John Fluevog Shoes, I felt like we were unstoppable energy with limitless possibilities. My 80% contributed to someone else’s 80% and so on and so on. A team of 22 people performing at 80%, well, do the math. The beauty of teamwork and leaning on each other, knowing that I can only get straight A’s if I do it with y.o.u. is unbelievably empowering, life-giving and successful. Together we join our flawed performances, we weave a tapestry of unique fabric and create a masterpiece.

Embrace your 80%. Embrace his 80%. Embrace her 80%. And let’s fill in each other’s gaps.

Don’t be afraid of the 20% errors. It’s only 20%. Life’s too short to be uncertain. Be a great decision maker. Stay the course. Get it done. Learn. Grow. #pressrepeat

– Karen Thrall

*also published on www.karenthrall.com

 

Categories
Awesomeness in the World

Fourth Place

I was meeting a friend for lunch last week and my walk there took me through a park. It was a warm enough day in January that there were a lot of people out and about (or maybe it wasn’t that warm and people were just thrilled to be out of their homes after our big snow storm. Either way…). There was a group of 7 people who caught my attention – presumably two mothers and their five kids. (Okay, after considering this last sentence, maybe it wasn’t that warm out. If I had multiple children at home during a snow storm, I’d be out whenever I could, regardless of the temperature!) One child was being carried and the other four girls were running around while their caretakers kept close watch.

In their playing, the four girls were racing to an imaginary finish. The first one crossed and yelled out, “I’m first!” She was followed by the second and third girls who also eagerly claimed their places with shouts of glee. Finally, the fourth – and seemingly youngest – caught up and triumphantly shouted “I’m fourth!” with as much pride as the first three. In that instant, she made my heart happy with the way she viewed the world. She wasn’t sad about being the smallest or coming in last. Instead, she was delighted with her finish – she placed FOURTH, after all! And what struck me as equally impressive was that her fellow racers didn’t tell her she lost or correct her fourth place finish to a last place finish – they all continued on to whatever adventure was next, happy to have completed the race.

This whole exchange happened in the span of less than a minute, but stuck with me for the rest of the day (and into this week, clearly). I was delighted by the joyous statement of fact, free from any judgement along with it. It made me wonder when we lose that – when do we stop seeing fourth place and start seeing last place? Others may be quick to point out our shortcomings, but I so much prefer this girl’s way of seeing the world and her place in it. I think we could all stand to be a little kinder to ourselves. Focus a bit more on the facts and a bit less on the judgement. See a few more fourth place finishes and a few less last place finishes. This was a wonderful reminder to me and I hope sticks with me until I get the next reminder.

Here’s to all our fourth place finishes!

Categories
Inside My Head Melissa

It’s Okay!

I often look at the New Year as a fresh start. A time to make resolutions, and, quite frankly, get my shit together, but this year I didn’t write a single resolution down. I didn’t want to beat myself up if I didn’t work out three times a week. I didn’t want to feel like a failure if I stress cried. And I certainly didn’t want to have a piece of paper floating around reminding me that I had accomplished exactly zero things. Not this year. I cruised into the New Year with a drink in my hand and zero resolutions in my planner. And I was only momentarily bummed when I realized we were an hour behind in Chicago and people there don’t watch the ball drop in Times Square. Not going to be bummed out this year by things out of my control! Instead, I watched a deep-dish pizza be dropped out of a window and hoped it wouldn’t be a euphemism for my year.

Well, it’s mid-January and I. am. bummed. I think a more accurate description is feeling unmotivated. Can I blame it on the cold? Or perhaps the recent disappointments that seem to be hiding around every corner at a certain location in the NW corner of DC? I can definitely blame a percentage of it on my American Airlines refund being pending for the last few weeks.

Okay, so back to the resolutions…I’m not writing them down, but they swim around in my head because the New Year is as good a time as any for setting good intentions. Instead of disappointing myself, I am keeping things a little more realistic this year. I’m going to try and be more on top of my commitments, be a better friend, and have a little more self love. And if I slip on one of these, then I’m okay with that. It’s okay! This year my resolutions are to do the best I can, to ask for help, and to be okay when things go awry.

I can have all of the best intentions in the world and goals galore, but I probably will not achieve them all and I’m fine with that.

To 2016 – I hope it’s a year where we all continuously get back on the horse, even if that metaphorical horse hides all winter and is replaced by Malbec and nap time.

– Melissa Grant

Categories
Career Libby

What’s Next?

It’s a new year, and with that comes all kinds of interesting newness: new resolutions, new sweaters, new opportunities. But with newness also comes change, and change is scary. Yes, it’s exciting; yes, I should embrace it, but man, it’s scary.

It is possible that within the next month or so, my life will be very different than it is now. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Part of me is dreading it – I have routines and things that I do and don’t do – I like it. But I’m also ready for more – changes at work, changes of those routines that I love, changes in my family dynamic.

But what if it all goes south? What if the changes are “worse” and my new routines are rote rather than reassuring? What is my obligation to this change? Do I have to like it? How long do I have to adjust to the change?

So, here’s the thing…I’m not sure I have a choice: I am not affecting change in my life, change is happening to me. So what’s the difference?

The difference is that I have to step up – I have to meet the change head on and make it work for me the best I can. It means more work on my end and it also means more unforeseen factors for which I can’t prepare. It also means that it is extra exciting – nerve-wracking, in fact – and that the rewards may be even greater than they would be if I had chosen a path myself.

As I tell my son, the only thing you can control is your attitude: you need to make the best of whatever situation you find yourself in or all you’ll have is a bad experience. So I’m embracing this change. I will race towards it hoping to catch it off-balance and have it fall into my arms, out-of-breath and grateful. I will make it work for me.

Wish me luck.

– Libby Bingham

 

 

 

Categories
Ashley Inside My Head

Love, Loss and Learning

My husband and I rang in the new year in our pajamas, finished a bottle of champagne, and snuggled into bed with our sick puppy – a far cry from our typical New Year’s Eve celebrations. A few weeks prior, our 9lb maltese-yorkie mix pup, Bo, came down with a rash on his belly. Bo-Bear the morkie has been the center of our world for nearly five years (no really…search #bobearthemorkie on Instagram).

Given Bo’s spotlight status in our lives, it’s easy to see how and why we spent the last three weeks of December seeking answers about his evolving rash, recurring fever, and overall shifted demeanor. After three vet visits, one round of fluids, 3 different antibiotics, a steroid, allergy medicine, and topical mouse to hopefully clear his skin, Bo had an awful full-body yeast infection. In the final days of 2015, he seemed to be getting better. Nick and I were super optimistic and we were doing everything we could to get him back to healthy pup status. (One day, I made him homemade chicken and rice meals, while Nick drove to 6 different stores on the hunt for a special antiseptic shampoo.) At the advice of both vets we’d visited, we had also booked him the earliest appointment possible with an animal dermatologist at the Regional Veterinary Referral Center in Virginia. There are only about 150 veterinary dermatologists in the country; the appointment was for January 25th.

On January 1st, Bo’s health took a turn for the worse. After realizing he had become cold to the touch, had a stark white tongue, and couldn’t even keep his eyes open, we called the emergency vet and were instructed to bring him right in. We took turns holding him tight in a blanket with a heating pad and quickly getting ready to leave. When we arrived at the vet, they rushed Bo out of my arms. Sitting in the patient room waiting for news, my stomach dropped out of my body. Just minutes later, the vet returned with the news that Bo had no heartbeat when we arrived. Hopefully it was  reassuring, they said, to know that he had likely died in our arms. At just 4 ½ years old, the dog that had been our first baby, our third family member, the center of our world, was gone with no rational explanation.

It seems unfair that on the first day of the year, a day to reset, a day given to all of us to mark new beginnings, we had to mourn such a loss. But I found a level of comfort in the fact that there were so many other people in the world mourning and hurting too, and probably in much worse situations than ours.

The first days with this new void in our lives, my husband and I alternated moments of severe grief, wondering why and becoming angry when the other wasn’t struck with grief at the exact moment as the other. It took a few days to understand each other’s triggers, extreme pain points, thoughts of guilt, and ways of coping. In an effort to distract ourselves, we went on walks, to the mall, and to the movie theater. One night after a movie, I walked into the apartment, realized Bo wasn’t home, and proceeded to dump his entire bin full of toys all over the living room floor. I threw myself into them and I bawled – tears, snot, slobber (mine and probably Bo’s) everywhere. I slept with as many of Bo’s favorite toys and stuffed animals as I could that night. And my husband still loves me…I think.

Our friends and family responded in an amazing way. The outcry of support, the calls, the texts, cards, flowers, social media messages, and more were signs that we were loved, cared for, and showed that Bo had touched not just our lives, but theirs as well. I tried to watch the Disney/Pixar film Inside Out that weekend. My husband, Nick, couldn’t watch the first time; I watched it twice. I obsessed over how Bo could bring so much joy to our lives, yet so much sadness in his death. But I took solace in the fact that our sadness was a result of the overwhelming joy he brought.

My husband and I have learned a lot in the two short weeks since Bo’s death. As silly as it is, we’ve learned to talk to each other directly again, rather than conversing through Bo. (“Bo, tell your poppy you’re ready to go outside!” This was real…if you’ve loved a dog or cat, you know what I’m talking about.) We’re taking comfort in one another’s presence and have made an effort to arrive home together after work so the other doesn’t suffer the blow that comes when you walk in and realize your best friend – who greeted you with love, acceptance, smiles, and licks – isn’t there anymore. And most difficult for me, we’ve had to shift our projections of what life milestones will be like without Bo. He won’t welcome our future children into the world with us, or get to run in a tiny yard in our first home.

Last weekend Nick whisked me away to New York for my birthday – a much needed respite. We reflected on the love Bo brought to our lives, how the unexpected loss has changed us, and what we’ve learned from loving our first dog, grieving together, and leaning on those we love most when our strength isn’t enough. In 2016, January 9th was the start of our new year.

– Ashley Respecki

Categories
Awesomeness in the World Karen

The Theme for Your Year: What is it?

Every year, I present myself a theme. I reflect in December, in preparation for the year to come, and ponder the resource and gift I want the new year to bring me.

I’ve been doing this for approximately 10 years, and I have yet to be disappointed.

When a theme is in the forefront of my mind, I remain incredibly aware of the world around me. It creates a childlike wonder and an anticipation. It gives me permission to ask the dreamy question, “what if?”

My yearly themes break down my guardedness and stretches me out of my comfort zone. My themes create adventures I would never experience if it wasn’t for my intention to stay true to my objective.

It’s not too late to ask yourself, “what is my theme for 2016?”

Reflect on what you want your theme to be. Then say yes to it.

Here’s an important tip: Don’t sit around and expect the experiences to fall from the sky. Once you know your theme, what will you do about it?

One year, my theme was “say yes.” Oh my, sometimes it got me into trouble, “hmmm…maybe I shouldn’t have said yes to that.” But my commitment was to “say yes” so, I said “yes.” For every great moment and opportunity that arose, there was only a smidgen of “shouldn’t have said yes” moments. The “say yes” experiences far outweighed the not-so-great ones. I would say only 2% of my “say yes” moments embarrassed me. But embarrassment doesn’t kill me, and actually make for great stories in the aftermath! Therefore, all my “yes” moments were a great experience and I don’t regret any of them.

Another year, my theme was “Let go.” Wowzers. This theme confronted my need to control (control is based from fear). So ultimately, it also confronted my fear. It was a liberating year of “letting go.” I was challenging myself continually and often re-visiting conversations, eating humble pie, and choosing to relinquish control. Each time I “let go” I was one step closer to being my care-free self. How rewarding!

What is your theme? Find it. Chase it. Embrace it.

– Karen Thrall

*also published on www.karenthrall.com