change

Over the past four months, change has been the most active verb in my world. Some examples:

New job

New roof

New walls

New carpet

New cable provider

New phone

New computer(s)

New office

New baby (on the way)

New Twitter feed to manage

New FB page(s)/group/profile

New, new, different, different.

And, no, I am not alone. We are all aware of the consistency and omnipresence of change.

However, we should be mindful not to let such consistency so easily stray to apathy. Not in our own lives, nor in our relationships with our co-workers.

Apathy about change? Apathy about consistency? Think of the last time you purposefully watched the sun rise and/or set. Apathy, unfortunately, reigns where consistency exists.

So think, this week, about your peers, your direct reports, your colleagues, and be aware of their personal shifting; though you do not need to hear the list of change that is occurring in each life, be aware that change is happening, nonetheless. When someone reaches out, or reaches in; seems short-tempered or long-winded; passes by your message or passes on your message, remember that change might just be the agent at work behind the scenes.

Sometimes a penny's-worth of change is not enough for us to notice. But perhaps it should be.

And, in case you missed it, the sun did rise this morning; just wish I had been mindful enough to see it.

shanti,
mjh

fishing

I had the great pleasure a few weeks ago to visit my faux-favorite place on the planet: the fishing pier on Okaloosa Island in Florida. Now, I say faux-favorite because my actual favorite place is the fishing pier just down the road at Pensacola Beach; however, the pier on Okaloosa is a nice substitute when I can't make the real pilgrimage.

I should state up front that I don't fish. So why is the pier my zen spot? Simple: emotional memory. It was a first, of sorts, for me. I have never been able to put my finger on the exact 'why', but I have an attachment to that place that exceeds all others.

Visiting the pier got me thinking about other attachments that I have, and more interestingly, those that I don't. We build attachments to many of our firsts: our first car, our first home, the first kiss. However, this phenomenon does not seem to apply to technology, and that was an epiphany that I was not expecting.

• First internet experience: AOL, and I had no clue what to do.
• First cell phone: cannot even recall the look or make.
• First web page: a geocities mess with spinning graphics and a list of some of my favorite things.
• Even my first Tweet (only 1100 ago) totally escapes me.

Contrast those to:

• My first car: red Nissan Maxima, and I can still smell it.
• First book I ever loved: Watership Down (in 7^th grade)
• First song I ever obsessed over: "You're the Inspiration" by Chicago; at times, it still gets to me.
• First room of my own: Rast Hall dorm room, and I could draw every inch by memory.
• First love: well...let's leave that alone.

So is there a Truth here? Do you find the same pattern in your life? Do you have attachments to the digital world that are as strong (or even less strong, but present) as those in the physical? I do not.

Unlike the fishing pier, I do not have a resting place online. Sure, I have sites that I like, sites that educate and inform me, sites that provide me with a service I appreciate. But when life needs respite, it's the real world that I run to.

If I ever go missing, rest assured that I will not be browsing the web, searching for pictures of a pier; instead, I will be found standing on one, far away from land. And I will have found the piece/peace that I need.

shanti,
mjh

breaking

One of the things that drives me crazy about my 3yo, and also one of the things I admire most about her, is her immense curiosity for physical boundaries. In other words, she likes to break stuff. Give her a CD, and she'll bend it 'til it snaps; if she happens upon a magazine, she'll tear it seven different ways; a new toy rarely lasts. It's the beauty of childhood, right? Nothing is taken at face value, and everything must be tested.

It's one of the many child-like qualities that we should emulate in business.

Now, I would not suggest running around breaking things just for the experience. We already know most of the physical boundaries of our workspaces; but is there room to push these boundaries?

Perhaps today would be a good day to test some limits, question the rules of a relationship, poke outside the lines, just to see what happens.

Sure, you might not find what you are looking for, and sure, some things might get broken in the process; however, at least you will know and understand the bounds a little better.

And who knows? Perhaps there is treasure just beyond the lines. Someone has to find the pearls; it might as well be you.

shanti,
mjh

medium

"There ought to be clowns"
"Hey you, would you help me to carry the stone"
"She tells herself it's research for her next and greatest role"
"I wrote to ask if we could maybe meet again before the spring"
"God"

It's hard for me to separate these lyrics from the music that accompanies them. 99% of the time, they do not appear alone. There are instruments; there is passion; there is context, both in narration and inflection. They are part of a story, not only in the original composition but also in my personal narrative. And the moments appear in numerous other narratives as well: at live events, on physical media, school dances, within movies, perhaps at your lowest or highest times, etc.

As stand-alone statements, I'm just not sure of their impact. Perhaps the last, though inflection and context would still be everything. The point, however, is that every one of these (and many, many more) phrases mean a great deal to me; they make me feel; they *work*, and they *work* precisely because of the medium through which I encouter them.

I have been thinking about this a lot lately as I struggle with repurposing Twitter posts on Facebook, posting status updates through Foursquare, encountering art on the street vs. in a gallery. The medium and the message are inextricably linked. (Sure, we've heard that "the medium is the message," but the 5th quote up there proves that wrong...at least for me)

This is nothing profound or groundbreaking, but it is something that we all should remember now and again. In these days of multi-channel communication, where we encounter and pass along information through every sense and at every turn, take a moment to make completely sure that the message you are broadcasting *works* via your chosen platform.

Sure, we want a universal message. Just remember that the universe is only unified in name. Once you begin exploring, you might just find that Twitter hashtags on Facebook, rough humor on LinkedIn, sarcasm in print, etc. is actually quite alienating.

shanti,
mjh

p.s.--10 points for anyone who can place the lyrics. Points only, though, b/c Google kinda 
ruins the fun

p.s.--that last one's totally not fair, but take a stab at it anyways. There could be some interesting answers.

4.leaves

If there is one four-leaf clover in a patch the size of a basketball court, I can find it. Sounds bold, but it is true. I have found one four-leafer a day every day for the past week (and one with 5 leaves...that one kinda scared me) ; it's a skill I have mastered over the past decade or so. And I think it is time to put it on my resume.

You see, finding the unique among the common requires concentration, attention to detail, patience, a little bit of luck, persistence, and a gut feeling. Sure, I can try and show these qualities by listing jobs that I have had, the qualities required to do certain tasks in those positions, random corporate projects that showcased one or the other; however, the truth is that I can find four-leaf clovers with the best of them. And there is something of value there.

So, what off-the-beaten path skill do you have? What human trick puts you in a league unto yourself? What can you do that I can't? Figure that out and leverage your talent. Put it on your resume, your personal development plan, heck, even your email signature.

We live in an age where 'job skills' are not strictly defined by what degree you have, what positions you have filled, or what titles you can claim.

If you can solve a Rubik's Cube blindfolded, can spot a typo from 50 feet away, have perfect pitch, know every artistic period, can balance on a chair without touching the ground, can calm a difficult child...we might need you. Regardless, we need to know about you.

It's time to change the corporate 'you' that exists on paper. Let me know what sets you apart from the pack. What makes you a four-leaf clover in your company? Since you are here, I am claiming that I have already found you.

shanti,
mjh

EAVB_DFEHXATFNB

socks.revisited

i.love.socks. Irony? Contradiction? See my earlier blog post and you can decide. Regardless of my NN-rant back in January, I recently discovered a brilliant utility for these coverings of the feet. Their ability to refresh, change, and reset.

While traveling recently, I was in a funk. I was back at the airport, about to board yet another flight. Though I had found my recent travels to be fun, enlightening, and socially healthy, the constant change of cabin pressure can funkify someone rather quickly. While sitting on a bench, just past security, I noticed two business traveler types who had unzipped their bags and were in the process of changing their socks. Always one to be a first follower (at least of those who seem to have the right experience/viewpoint), I decided to do the same.

It was quite transcendental.

Turns out that the simple act of donning new, clean socks can radically shift your current situation.

Literally, it's a simple action. On the larger scale, however, it's a much more difficult process. When you find yourself weighted down at work, stressed, or just blue, it is unlikely that you have the capacity to change the larger issues. Emails, meetings, presentations, experiments, red tape, 'the matrix': all of these have the dual role of maintaining order and, at times, ensuring that you keep your socks on, however uncomfortable they might be.

However, we are all aware that it's the little things that get us through the day; it's the actions and environment that you do have control over that will shape your day; sometimes, it's a simple change that can radically shift the place that you are in.

You might not have the ability to change the structure (i.e., wardrobe) of your current team, but those socks you are wearing, those are yours. Why not change them? You might be surprised at how you feel.

shanti,
mjh

sacrifice

My flight out of Charlotte was oversold last week. No big surprise there: small plane, popular route. They asked for volunteers (I think the initial rate was $100); a lady with whom I had been chatting (we'll call her Mandi) made a couple of calls, then waltzed up to the ticket agent to volunteer her seat. Case closed, problem solved, but not exactly.

Soon after nesting into my 5A window seat, she boarded the plane. I guess they didn't need her afterall.

So much for the $100. At the end of the day, however, Mandi was making the flight, and you would think that all would be chipper. But it was not so.

You see, Mandi had (initially) the benefit of a reservation in seat 1A, the most coveted by The Amazing Race standards. There's more legroom up there (even on this smaller jet), and getting on and off is a breeze. It's a good seat; surely a win.

Now, however, she had lost her seat and was relegated to the backmost row, the last seat, that one sitting next to the lone bathroom. Mandi, by 1A standards, was now distant and trapped, banished to the tail. Moreover, her carry-on bag had been taken; there was also no room for it anymore, as those of us fortunate to board early had filled the overhead space.

So, let's rewind....

Delta needed volunteers; Mandi sacrificed her travel plans for the benefit of others (nudged surely by the $100 offer). Her sacrifice ended up costing her her prime seat, the proximity of her carry-on, and the convenience of a quick hop-off the plane once we landed.

I doubt Mandi will be volunteering again anytime soon.

In our companies, we often ask people to sacrifice, to help out, to pitch in, to volunteer time or energy or knowledge. Once given, how do we treat them? Do we treat those who help us with the same kindness and respect that we asked of them? Or do we focus on our need, grab what was given, and lose sight of those who gave?

My hope is that your sacrifice is rewarded, or at the very least is not punished. Every time we take a 1A and reassign them to 25C, we, as a company, lose. And the turbulence is not soon forgotten.

shanti,
mjh

attitude

It is hard raising a 3-year-old. I am constantly having difficult conversations, teaching difficult lessons, and, moreover, facing the reflection of such.

"Lily, you really should be grateful for what you have; many children do not have so many toys." "Why, daddy?" -- I have no good answer;

"Lily, get in here and clean up your toys." -- as I try not to turn around and look at the messy kitchen;

"Lily, you need to get better at sharing." -- as I hoard money, tangible stuff, and scrape the leftovers into the trash;

"Lily, you don't need to watch anymore TV today." -- and I know that, once she is in bed, I will turn it right back on.

"Lily, it's not that big of a deal." -- I am pretty sure I said while mentally cursing the driver in front of me.

The most pressing reflection, however, has to do with attitude.

"Lily, you need to focus more on the positive aspects of the day and not on the minor problems."

I'll admit it; I have been pretty critical of my company lately. It's part of why my corporate blog has been more silent these days; too much to say, but too hesitant to say any of it. Some of it is just personal, and personal it shall stay.

However, 1) I have a job, 2) it is a good job, 3) it is an important job, 4) I am better today than I was five years ago because of this job.

Today, I am grateful; today, I am proud; today, I am focusing on the positive. As they say, the future is unknown and necessarily distant, but today, today, I can focus on the undeniable good.

I urge you to do the same.

shanti,
mjh

mail

My to-do list is out of control; my guess is that you can relate. No matter how much I try to get done in a day or week, it seems that the list never really gets any shorter. However distressing this might be, I still find comfort in cutting down the list whenever possible. Tonight, I have crossed another thing off, and the Truth that it reveals could alter your day.

Two days ago, I received my Census form. I did my part after dinner this evening, and now it sits, definitely crossed off of the list, out in my mailbox.

Tasks such as this always cause me to pause. The official to-do states that I need to fill out the Census and mail it. Part one of that requirement is complete; part two...I guess it's not quite fulfilled, as I know it is still out there, in the metal box. Thankfully, the faith that I have in its completion is enough to settle my nerves.

I imagine that being a manager feels a lot like this. The task is not officially complete yet, but I have confidence that the person assigned to help me complete it (in my case, my mail-carrier) will do so without pause or incident. I trust that she will take every step necessary to fulfill her duty or will alert me to any hindrances. I have enough faith in the process and the person hired to take charge of that process, that I, almost without thinking, already consider it done.

I sincerely hope that anyone in my personal chain of command, and in yours, employs such trust; likewise I sincerely hope that I, and you, have earned it.

I don't believe that I have ever thanked my mail-carrier for a job well done; I think tomorrow that will change. How about you? If you rely on others, have faith in others, believe in others to get the job done, why not make them aware of your appreciation today?

Yes, I just put something on your to-do list. Apologies for that, but I trust that you will cross it off soon enough.

shanti,
mjh

constructs

As an HBE, I spend a lot of time constructing; while on the phone, I imagine faces, places, scenes, expressions, etc. Such constructs are subconscious and necessary. If we have never met in person, my brain instantly begins to fill in your details, based on nothing more than your voice, name, personality, and any other details it can glean from our interaction. You get a couple of eyes, a mouth, some hair, all by default. The more advanced process of how person X is drawn and how h/she differs from person Y is way too complex for my consciousness to begin to explore. Suffice it to say, however, that somehow my brain begins to fill in the details, constructing a picture of who you are, and that made-up picture is, for better or worse, who you are when you come to mind.

Recently, my imaginative abilities were put to the test when three of my oft-contacted buddies showed up for Action Labs in New York. Sitting in the hotel restaurant, each waltzed in...looking nothing like what my mind had constructed. Seriously, I was way off of the mark. It greatly surprised me, though it should not have. Having never seen a single picture of these guys, I was destined to be wrong in my vision. And I was.

Though there is a lot to be learned from my mental mistakes, from painting a completely erroneous image based solely on phone conversations, the most interesting thing to me today is that the constructs have disappeared in my mind. When I spoke to Bob recently, I saw Bob; there was no trace of bizzaro-Bob, the Hollowell-ized version that had been growing unchecked for the past several months. Same thing with Pat; when I hear his voice on the other end of the line, I can see him.

There is a great value in the Truth. It has a way of erasing the falsities that we construct; it's hard to ignore; and it has power. It is so powerful, in fact, that it instantaneously obliterated my pre-conceptions, and that is usually a very good thing. The fuzziness gained detail, and the generalities became specific. I am very grateful for the opportunity to correct my flawed construct of these guys, and I hope to do the same for many of you.

Just be aware that facing the Truth, though positive in so many respects, is an irreversible position. Remember to take a deep breath before opening your eyes, check your preconceptions at the door, and let's get better at letting the Truth work its magic.

'Transparency' is such a buzz-word these days, and the concept has its merit; however, let's be sure we are seeing with clarity before we try and make the Truth clear for others.

shanti,
mjh

play

If you have 30 minutes, I highly recommend watching this video. It will potentially blow your mind, which is always a positive experience when done in moderation.

shanti,
mjh

http://g4tv.com/lv3/44277

weight

Last Thursday night, I checked back into my hotel room and accepted my fate: snowed in; no way out. I was not thrilled with the situation, though the quiet after the storm (both literally and metaphorically) was quite nice. Four days of Action Labs had passed, and a calmness had descended on the IBM Palisades. I took some time that night to sit out on the hotel balcony; I watched the snow continue to fall, stared out at the monochromatic landscape, and listened to the utter quietness.

It was during one of these cold, centering sessions when I was introduced to a phenomenon not often present in the South. Loud cracks, sharp breaks, distant crashing sounds. It took me a few minutes to discern the noise, then I saw it happen.

A perfectly healthy-looking branch, weighted down by the snow, just fell free from its tree and crashed to the ground. Weight; I have seen this before. Actually, I am seeing it now at my company.

Weight, either tangible or intangible, can be bothersome, can slow you down, and, given enough time and inattention, can literally render you unable to maintain.

So, how are you doing? Have you checked your weight lately? Have you checked the weight of those around you?

Managers, if you do not have an accurate idea of the weight your team members are carrying, both as a team and especially individually, it's time to check in. When the branch has fallen, when the weight has done its damage, there rarely is a chance to go back. The crack, break, and crash come fast; you'd be wise to see it coming.

And if you, dear reader, cannot carry one more thing, if you are weighed down to the point of cracking, start shouting. We are a company, after all, and that implies togetherness and sharing. If you crack and fall, well, the landscape just wouldn't be the same.

It's worth thinking about: If you fall in the forest, and no one hears it...

shanti,
mjh

reinforcement

It was a hard decision this past week, but my wife and I changed our daughter to a new pediatrician. The reasons were valid and solid, though we were unsure how the newness would sit with our three-year-old; she, like many her age, cherishes repetition and order. However, through much preparation and visual aids, and despite all of our nightmarish fears, Lily acted the champ. She followed directions; she happily jumped through the proverbial hoops of a well-child check-up, and she never once seemed distraught over the change in venue or face.

The cause of this angelic appointment is really unknown. Was it the pep talks; was it the new toys; was it the promise of a treat? There is no way of knowing. The result, however, of this unforeseen event is very clear: positive reinforcement (for us). Not that we should change Dr's on a yearly basis, but that we, as parents, made the right decision. This parental positive reinforcement does not surface often, so it comes highly prized. And it feels good.

Which leads me to consider, again, the opportunity for and effects of positive reinforcement in the corporate world. I have blogged about this before, and I still believe that presence is perhaps the single most important form of reinforcement that exists. Surely, presence alone is often not enough; that is why we have bonuses, recognition, awards. However, even those somewhat more tangible boosts are nothing without the foundational sense of company and of belonging.

Sending me presents reminds me that I am here; sending me your presence reminds me that you are here, too; that I am not alone.

So for those of you who stop in and read this blog, I offer my thanks; multiple thanks to those who take the time to post a comment. Your presence, whether I know you are here or not, is of utmost importance to me and to the enterprise as a whole. Obviously, reflecting back on this post, I would prefer to know that you were here (just say 'wasuuuuup' in the comment box); however, even if you do not acknowledge your presence here on my blog, take the time to acknowledge yourself to someone else today. Better than that, reveal your presence to someone who might have completely forgotten your nearness, your actualization (as an HBE, I know this disconnect all too well).

In my previous post on presence, I called on my readers to "take the time today to remind those who rely on us, those we rely on, those we support and are supported by, that we are here"; today, however, perhaps relying on proximity, whether physical or spiritual, is not enough. Today, why not think of someone that you have not been present with for quite some time, someone long lost or simply far away, and be present with him/her.

And do it within your company walls; that's harder, and you need a challenge. Make a phone call to that guy you used to work with; shoot an email out to check on a distant co-worker; hug a blogger. :o)

Oftentimes, absence is misunderstood; presence, however, rarely is. Be present, not only with yourself, not only with your clique, but also with the 'others'.

And if your presence does not motivate, if the relationship is immune to reinforcement simply though reminded companionship, go ahead and offer a Hershey's Kiss; it works for my daughter.

shanti,
mjh

dishes

When I got married 6+ years ago, my wife brought more than her tangible stuff into my life. She also brought her habits, her processes, her strategy, time-honored and -honed traditions that were second nature to her, but left me wondering what I had strolled into. This feeling is, no doubt, familiar to many. One of these subtle tactics has taught me a valuable lesson: the power of The Soak.

I am an elbow-grease guy, someone who has always subscribed to the mantra: 'To succeed is easy; simply work four times harder than everyone else.' You could say that working hard is in my DNA; hence, I have never met a dish that I couldn't clean. Sure, sometimes it would take a brillo pad or a razor blade, but no amount of dried-on ketchup, cemented-on cereal, or burnt-on whatever could stand in my way. Roll up the sleeves, get the water good and hot, and dive in. Apparently, this tactic is not universal.

Three days after our honeymoon, I walked into the kitchen and saw them: dishes. Dishes in a state I had never in my life encountered; they were not waiting to be cleaned, they were not already cleaned, they were in some sort of holding pattern, like someone started cleaning them and then just disappeared. I was staring at Dish Limbo, and it unsettled me.

I'll admit it: one night in the months following my exposure to The Soak, alone in the house, I broke down and tried it out. And it worked. Unbelievably well, in fact. The rice, it just rubbed right off; the ketchup just melted away. Apparently, I married into a 'work smarter' philosophy without even knowing. In the hard-scrub vs. smart-soak battle, letting the water do the work for you...well. that will win every time.

In my company, we work hard. We tag, upload, edit, market, sell, design, manufacture, maintain, create, link, manage, research, value-add, retool, improve, think, and rethink long into the night, oftentimes too long into the night. And that is not a bad thing.

What is potentially hazardous, however, is if we do not take the time to listen to others who might just offer up another way of accomplishing these same tasks. If we do not stop and breathe, pick our heads up and look around, notice that our partners do not have the same dishpan hands as we do...if we fail to capitalize on the power of the tools we rely on, be they water or CPU, then we are the ones who will ultimately tire out, which in our business means losing the race.

Oftentimes, business send out a call to arms, an active push, a fierce and forceful rallying cry. Just make sure that you take a breath between battles, take notice of what you are fighting with and what you are fighting against, and realize that perspiration is a good thing, unless it drowns you.

Sprinkle some smart-work amongst your hard-work, and let's take back what is ours, not only by rolling up our sleeves, but also by taking a good look at our hands. If you see more wrinkles than normal, maybe it's time to let things soak for a little while.

shanti,
mjh

trash

This evening (ok, several nights ago), my three-year old daughter pulled an empty kitchen trash bag from its box under the kitchen counter. She proceeded to leave it on the floor, where it sat for about an hour. During out post-dinner clean-up, she picked it up, showed it to me, and asked me "Is this trash?" Three hours later, I still do not know how to answer that question. Surely, it is trash because we throw it in the garbage can on a regular bases; surely, it's not because, well, it's a perfectly good (and empty) trash bag.

Is a trash bag, trash?

I feel that there is a Truth buried somewhere in the answer to this question, a metaphorical Truth relating to the professional space. Something about usefulness, purpose, and duty; however, tonight my sinuses are inflamed to the point where I cannot think through the haze. So, I turn this post over to you, dear reader.

Can you see the Truth here? Can you solve this quandry? If so, please let me know. I'd love to hear your thoughts/opinions/metaphors because it really has my head spinning.

shanti,
mjh

dis.ease

A couple of quick bits:

1. I've had issues with Psoriasis for many years now. It's never been too much of a bother (though I admit the patchy elbows and shins are less than attractive). By and large, however, I have gone about my life pretty normally. That is (or was) until last year.
2. On a seemingly unrelated note, about 5 months ago, I became quickly acquainted with sick days. I contracted the much-hyped H1N1 virus and somehow also managed to layer strep throat on top of that. Yah, it was not a fun time.

So what do these two facts have to do with each other? At the time, I assumed nothing; turns out I was wrong. The flu/strep combination turned my mild skin issue into a moderate-to-severe dermatological phenomenon. Being homebased has never been so welcomed.

Who knew that Psoriasis was an autoimmune disease, not simply a skin irritation? Not me. Who knew that an infection like Strep could worsen, even trigger, skin inflammation? Who would connect such seemingly disparate dots?

An organization, a company, a team, a workgroup...these are all organisms with systems; sometimes these systems are interrelated, and sometimes they are not, at least that is how it often appears. The Truth, however, most likely lives within the grey area between these extremes. Everything within your team (and within the larger corporate structure) is related, sometimes not as closely as it seems, sometimes much more so.

We should remember that if our team is currently sick, if there is a patch of ill-will or dissension, we are not immune from its effects, regardless of how far away we position ourselves. And if we target/treat the cause (or think that we have), we might only be temporarily fixing the surface issue. The effects can be long-lasting and brutal in their resilience.

The company-as-body metaphor is certainly not a new one; many articles have been written on how the 'head' and the 'hands' need to work in concert. However, we must also pay attention to the dis.ease of the body. To be blunt, don't be so distracted by an illness in the throat that you fail to notice how it affects the skin.

So wash your hands in the real-world, but metaphorically, don't let yourself off so easy.

shanti,
mjh

normal(cy)

Several years ago, I was in a raucous crowd at a UAB/Tulane basketball game. As a rabid UAB basketball fan, this was not abnormal for me. Also not-unlike me (at the time), I relished every opportunity to poke at, yell at, and throw verbal darts at the other team. On this particular night, it seemed too easy. A few minutes into the first half, I stared in disbelief at this:

That, dear reader, is (was) the mascot for Tulane. I literally could not believe my eyes when this 'thing' stepped out on the court, somehow in support of its team. Tulane's mascot? The Green Wave. "Seriously?" I asked my buddy. "A color and water? That is their statement to the world?"

After spending much time harping on the apparent (to me) stupidity of this choice of mascot, and after hurling many vocal assaults at the players and foam-thingy that was trying to move around the court, my buddy knocked me down with a simple revelation.

"You do realize," he stated, "the nickname of the team you grew up loving, your beloved University of Alabama, is the Crimson Tide. A comparable color, but certainly a less intimidating water event."

Sometimes we fail to realize that our personal "normal" is not universal. What seems common to you, what seems logical or obvious, can be the most foreign concept/Truth to others. Sometimes, we even fail to realize what we deem obvious or normal until someone (hopefully with love) points it out.

Save yourself the humiliation, and realize that your unique normal is just that: unique (though not at all normal). Don't assume that anyone, not your customers, colleagues, or companions, sees the world through your eyes. Yes, the singular specialness of you is to be celebrated; however, it is also to be viewed with caution.

If I stop to realize that your Green is my Crimson, and if you stop to realize that my Tide is your Wave, then maybe we can both learn something about normalcy (even if it is normalcy through the ludicrous). Bottom line: there is no normal, and we would be wise to realize it as unattainable.

Take a minute to rethink your assumptions, recalibrate your (leadership) compass, and toss out your idea of what is normal. No one really agrees with you.

shanti,
mjh

isit

'And is it
the hen's nightmare, or her secret dream,
to scratch the ground forever
eating the minutes out of the grains of sand?'
--G.Kinnell

shanti,
mjh

hidden

'Hidden Mickeys'; ever heard of them? If you have spent any time around a Disney fanatic, you probably have. They are, in large part, important to Disney extremists...and they should be important to us, as well.

In brief, HMs are "representations of Mickey Mouse that have been inserted subtly into the design of rides, attractions, and other locations in Disney theme parks and elsewhere on Disney properties." (Wikipedia)

I must admit that I love them; I love the concept, the creativity, the course. But even if I did not have a soft spot for all types of subcouncious indoctrination, their presence begs an important question. Why are they there? What purpose do they serve? Certainly, these special touches are not economically-driven. No one pays $1K to spend their vacation looking for images of a cartoon character carved into a rock or disguised on a leapord statue. They are not mandated or "official"; legend has it that HMs just started appearing as inside jokes amongst the designers. And they are likely not used for subcouncious indoctrination; if you happen upon one...you're already there.

So what, then, can we learn from the HM phenomenon? Turns out, there is an important lesson hidden here. Simply put, it's about detail.

Let's say that you are spending a few nights at the Animal Kingdom Lodge on WDW property. While scoping out the decor, you notice this, tucked away amongst the rocks:

I imagine that most people would assume that a micro-detail such as this, would naturally translate into a feeling of comfort with the macro. In other words, if a company spends the time to insure the tiniest of elements are tended to, you generally have a feeling that the big stuff has been taken care of. To quote John Wooden, "It's the little details that are vital."

Sure, details are important in life, but they are critical in business. Minor points will make or break a company, a team, an employee. Bottom line: we should all be paying more attention to the details.

I am not suggesting that we sneak in Knowledge Bursts throughout the country, or even throughout the buildings (though I, of course, would love it). I do suggest, however, that every one of us has the ability, and even the responsibility, to make each one of our projects, our products, our processes special and complete, down to the last element.

Rumor has it that hidden mickeys are personal (instead of corporate), inspired and created by the designers themselves. They exist as a calling card of sorts, letting you know that the artist has created something unique and special, and that he or she had you, the audience, in mind.

Do your internal/external customers feel this way? Perhaps they can; certainly, they should.

Find a detail during your workday, something that no one has asked you to do, perhaps something that no one even realizes that you can do, and do it. Take the time to add a special and important detail to your process, product, interaction, design, etc. Hide an extra moment's work to your product; someone will notice.

It might not be a hidden Mickey, but you just might win the appreciation of many.

shanti,
mjh

p.s.--ok, that "many"/Minnie pun just might be the worst thing I have ever written, but I couldn't resist. Apologies.

moment(s)

As we walked through the gates of the Magic Kingdom on Sunday, my 3-year-old daughter got a surprise; the lady who took her ticket looked her in the eye and said sweetly, "Happy Birthday, Lily". I was slightly impressed; my daughter, however, was amazed. In one fleeting moment, Lily realized that she, on this day, at this place, was special.

Then...it happened again, and again, and again. She was wished a happy birthday over 50 times during our day at Disney, each time with a smile and a moment. Every single 'cast member' that crossed her path, from the cashiers to the ride-runners, from the 'real' characters (i.e., Pluto and Ariel) to the virtual ones (i.e., Crush and Nemo), from the Voices of Liberty to the robot trash can, every one of them called her by name, looked in her eyes, made her feel special. Consumer/parental satisfaction? Check.

However, I was not struck by the 'customer service' or 'user experience', though I probably should have been. No, what kept amazing me was the consistent and total buy-in from the Disney employees. Though hundreds (probably thousands during peak times) of people celebrate their special days within Mickey's walls, I saw no hint of fatigue, no eye-rolling, no ignoring, nothing at all to make me feel like my daughter was one-of-many, instead of one-in-a-million.

She was, to each employee, special, if only for that moment when we crossed their path.

We talk a lot about 'evangelists' these days. We survey our customers, we survey our employees, we survey our management, all in an attempt to classify who the detractors are, who the evangelists are, and who lies somewhere in between. We crunch the numbers, assume that there is Truth in them, and present/spin them to make a statement to the masses, both internally and externally. But to what end? I have yet to find a number that has any special qualities, let alone one that can shift the tide.

Perhaps instead of pointing to numbers, figures based on questions that are less Truthful than vague, we should look to moments. Instead of asking ourselves how many employees fit within a certain fabricated category, we should ask ourselves how many of them feel special, how many of them feel valued, how many of them feel unique.

Numbers, graphs, figures: yes, they all have a place. But so do I, and so do my colleagues, and so do you.

Take a minute to ask yourself how many of your employees are special to you; take a minute to make a moment for one of them; then take a minute to watch what happens.

If we spent more time making moments and less time making surveys, well...maybe we wouldn't need surveys to locate evangelists. My guess is that they would reveal themselves.

shanti,
mjh

humbug

My neighbor's Christmas lights are still up. And they are on. It's 10:30 pm on January 8th, and their holiday decorations are still lighting up my normally-dark piece of the world. It's likely that you are faced with similar sparkling reminders of late 2009, and perhaps you are faced with similar angst. Don't get me wrong; I'm a huge fan of the holiday season, but seriously, it's over, right?

Interestingly, this phenomenon is not relegated to "joyeux noel" (or "bom natal" for my Indian brothers and sisters; at least, I think those are right). It crosses all of our minds when we hear about the TV show that we have long since stopped watching being canceled; the web platform that no one uses anymore finally being shut down; the band that we haven't thought about since our youth that is still touring; the news of the once-famous actor, still using his catch-phrase, who just passed away. We ask ourselves, isn't that, wasn't that, shouldn't that have been over?

This momentary pause begs the question, why do we (and I think we all do in our own way) continue to hang on to a past that has...well...passed?

There is a danger in not recognizing the fleetingness of moments and in holding on too long to an internal, personal definition of 'self'. It is said that you are not who you think you are, but instead, you are who others think you are. In plainspeak: you might think your band still rocks, but take a look at the audience; you might think you are spreading Christmas cheer all year 'round, but take a quick poll of your neighborhood; or more to the point, you might think you are leading, but you try listening to those who are (supposed to be) following.

If you, as a leader, are not adapting, evolving, shifting with the tides, then you are likely not leading at all. If your metaphoric Christmas lights are still up even though the moment has passed, then you need to check your credibility; your team might still be following, but the angst, snickers, or finger-pointing might be following, too. Just because your team is accompanying you does not mean that you are leading them.

Tomorrow morning, I will smile and wave at my neighbor, like I always do. But I will also roll my eyes as I walk back down the driveway, as I always do. Thankfully, he wouldn't care. He has no stake in my opinion of him; you, however, you just might.

shanti,
mjh

weather

It snowed here today in Tennessee; we had less than an inch of accumulation at my house. Yes, that's snow to us. Every school in the area was closed today; several businesses shut down early; medical appointments were canceled; the shelves were bare at the local supermarkets. This phenomenon is part of my culture.

On the other hand, we had numerous tornado warnings in 2009, and no one really blinked. School was not canceled when tornadoes threatened to appear; grocery stores functioned per the status quo. Having survived the devastating F-4 of 1998 in Huntsville, AL, tornadoes do not phase me, nor my kind. 22 people were killed (one of them, my friend's brother), 500 injured, hundreds of homes wrecked. Tornadoes are a fact of life in the South; snow, however, is not.

So, to me, those of you who panic over tornados...well, that's just silly; those who panic over snow, I completely understand. Perhaps, you are the opposite. Maybe an earthquake is no big deal to you, but it would freak the pants off of me. Hurricanes, no problem, but threaten to put me in the path of a wildfire, and I would lose it. Weather, and how we react to it, is a cultural divide; it's one of the only divides, in fact, that seems PC to discuss. It is not about race, religion, age, gender; it is, quite simply, weather. But it says a lot.

If you chuckle at the seeming overreaction of my town at the threat of snow, that is good. That means that you get the point. If you empathize with our snow freak-out, then that is good, as well. You also understand.

Each of our teams, each of our little cultures inside of this monstrous coporate universe, have a culture. Thankfully, that culture is not built on superficialities such as race or gender. The culture is based on empathy and understanding, skill-sets and competencies, experience and survival. Here in CLP (where I work), if you come to me with a customer's complaint about bleedbars, I totally get it. If you do not understand why EdSched is built the way it is, I understand. It's our culture, and, likely, it is a culture that very few "others" would understand. On the contrary, I read posts on our company site about programs and issues that are foreign enough to me that a 23rd-century being could have penned them.

So, what is the point?

It's simple. Cultural acceptance is not a phenomenon only relegated to the obvious classifications. We have rules, laws even, to make sure that we do not discriminate, nor demonize, those of a different creed, sexual orientation, belief system, age, skin color, etc. Too often, however, we fail to accept those who interpret the weather through a different lens than our own. You might not define 'snow' the same as me; I might scoff at your fear of tornadoes. However, the truth is, there is no right or wrong here; there is only culture.

Remind yourself: though you might not agree with, understand, or even care about the priorities or emotional reactions that are coming from parts of the company-culture that you don't fully understand, that those pieces are valid, important, and necessary to our overall, binding existence.

We are who we are, and we are where we are, because we are who we are. Once we learn to accept the differences in our corporate culture, we will be able to connect on levels very few companies have ever achieved. Then, and only then, will we will finally be able to weather any storm that might befall us.

shanti,

mjh

socks

i.hate.socks.

Let's just get that out of the way. The reasons will not be foreign to you: they lose themselves, unmatch themselves, rip themselves, and they fall down. Constantly. I believe wholeheartedly that socks are a necessary evil. However, for the sake of fairness, I will not ask you to agree that they are 'evil'; let's compromise and call them a "necessary nuisance" (NN).

NNs are, by definition, bothersome 'things' or tasks that cannot be avoided. Just as I have never found a decent alternative to socks (though this video has given me some ideas), I have also not found acceptable alternatives to many of my NNs here at work: timecards, PDPs, databases, administration, paperwork, etc.; passwords, login IDs, timeouts, VPNs, etc.; clutter, random long emails, phone calls, customers, etc. (I think you get my point). So what is a person to do when faced regularly with thorny 'stuff' that is unavoidable?

Thankfully, we already have a coping mechanism built in; we learn it from our first days on this earth. Dealing with NNs is not really the issue; all of us do it, with or without complaint. Acknowledging them, however, that is the key.

Take some time this week to do just that; let your team know that you know NNs exist, that you are aware of them, and that you think they suck, too. Genuine empathy can break down walls that no amount of logic can touch. This is not misery-loves-company, however; this is leading by example. If you acknowledge, instead of ignore, NNs, and if you handle, not complain about, them, your team will follow. Your team will follow.

There is peace in true empathy; there is peace in acknowledging nuisances; and there is peace in strong leadership. And if all else fails, come to work wearing only one sock and see how many of your team members understand you better.

shanti,
mjh

presence

First a repost (of a repost):

My 2-year old daughter, like most 2-year-old daughters, has a doll that she has latched onto. she carries it around; it rides in the car with us; she puts it down for naps. this particular doll has limited interaction: touch her cheek, "mama"; tickle her foot: laughter; squeeze her hand: crying. Lily, of course, does not understand the catalyst for her Darla vocalizing. However, her reaction is always the same. she does not sing to Darla, she does not chastise her, she does not try and converse with her, she does not ignore her.

Lily simply touches Darla's head and softly states, "Darla, I am right here. I am right here."

The one and only most important priority in the Lily/Darla relationship is presence; rain or shine, good or bad, light or dark, Lily simply states, "I am right here."

Sure, that is a bit emotionally-tingly, if you are in the right mindspace when you read it. However, there is a truth here that directly resonates within the corporate walls. I spent some time today watching a video (internal to my company) that featured RR-H, MV, and FR. I was impressed with the fact that each speaker, of their own accord, mentioned the importance of saying "thank you". It's a truism often understood outside of the company walls, but it was very uplifting to see it expressed internally.

And it got me thinking: if money is nice, and if expressed gratitude is motivating, then what is necessary?

I keep coming back to the episode above. Presence, it seems to me, is perhaps the most basic, yet imperative factor in a successful work culture. Not your own presence (the importance of that goes without saying), but the presence of those around you, those who support you, those who suffer with you. Without companions, partners, teammates, without a sense of belonging, there would be no "company".

We should all take the time today to remind those who rely on us, those we rely on, those we support and are supported by, that we are here; not merely here, but "right here".

Be present, not only in form but also in function.

shanti,
mjh

bubbles and their makers

A couple of months ago, my friend Jaime and I decided to make a bubble pact, effective January 1, 2010. Essentially, we both agreed that we have been very blessed in this life but that we really weren't living up to the responsibilities of such blessings. In other words, we were very comfortable in our bubbles. To remedy our mostly selfish existence, the bubble pact was agreed upon: once a month (at least), we will leave our cozy little circle and challenge ourselves to participate in (a) something new, (b) something uncomfortable (to us), and (c) something with a hint of "the greater good".

But I don't write this to discuss my personal bubble pact. I bring this topic up simply to ask about your own bubble, professionally speaking. Are you comfortable? Have you added anything new to your professional space lately?

2009 seemed to be a shoring-up year, a year where most teams/groups/decision-makers were afraid to make moves because there was such uncertainty in the market. However, if the fog seems to be lifting, if you think you can see a few feet in front of your face these days, why not adopt a bubble pact of your own for 2010? Adopt a new technology, research the future, befriend a random name from your Enterprise network, try some crazy new processes, write a simple program, and see what happens.

If bubble-bursting became the norm, well, there wouldn't be many bubbles left to contain us, would there?

shanti,
mjh

from LN blog: 1

losing the way

As with many readers/writers/collectors, I have many favorite quotes/passages. One, however, is permanently inscribed on my brain. I think it everyday; I face it everday; I try and live it everyday.

..frightened
I may already have lost
the way: the first step, the Crone
who scried the crystal said, shall be
to lose the way.
-- Galway Kinnell, The Book of Nightmares

Many large companies, many small teams, many promising ideas are lost and paralyzed by the fear of the unknown and the unwillingness to veer from "the way". Our hope should be that there is courage enough within ourselves, our teams, to see past the seemingly logical path ahead and to leap to that unknown. It is a universal truth of youth that a man must lose himself to find himself. I find myself often wondering why, then, this same inspired mantra does not find a home within corporate culture.

Let us remember that without the blind courage of others, we would not be able to see today.

I long for the mantle
of the great wanderers, who lighted
their steps by the lamp
of pure hunger and pure thirst
and whichever way they lurched was the way.

--Galway Kinnell, The Book of Nightmares

shanti,
mjh

crossing channels

I've started a new blog that exists only within the walls of my company. As part of Enterprise 2.0, Lexis has created an internal networking site that I have quickly come to enjoy. Since I can't possibly think of TWO things to blog about, I am going to be posting some writings "out here" as well as "in there". Call it a lazy way to try and keep both blogs going. Or you could view it as a peek into my corporate-tainted brain. Either way, it's cool.

shanti,
mjh