Category: Testimonials

How Quickly We Lose It

Good day, team.

The theme of this week’s challenge is how quickly we can lose our cool in challenging situations.

My husband and I recently took a 10-day vacation to Great Britain. Inspired by our godchildren, who are spending the summer in Europe, we concocted a plan to surprise them in England, in an incredibly beautiful area called the Cotswolds. After a few days in London, we rented a car and took off for our destination, which was a few hours drive from the city.

Thus commenced one of the most trying three hours of our marriage. To start, our motorcar, as the Brits call them, was small, had a standard transmission and very little power. Second, getting into the driver’s seat on the right side of the automobile was disorienting. As we settled into our seats, my husband instructed, “I need you to be the navigator. It’s going to be challenging enough for me to drive on the left side of the road without having to worry about how we get there.” Little did I know how challenging it would be for both of us to fulfill these roles.

Getting onto the motorway was easy enough, although as we approached our first roundabout, trying to remember to stay to the left and watching other cars sail past us on what seemed to be the wrong side of the road gave both of us a hair-raising preview of what was to come.

Once off the main motorway, we drove along country roads that were no more than 9 feet wide, surrounded on both sides by hedgerows that were sometimes 12 feet high. How were we supposed to navigate our way down these roads when we couldn’t see what was coming up or even when another car was approaching from the opposite direction? Each time a car approached, it struck panic in both of us. The amount of jockeying that had to go on in order to pass the other car was a complex set of maneuvers. After both cars came to a screeching halt, we were never quite sure if we should back up, drive forward, move sideways or what. Once we managed to get past another car, I often found an assortment of broken plant matter in my lap from the hedgerow because we usually swiped the hedges in our attempt to get past the opposing traffic.

All this, and I had to navigate as well. Those of you who know me may be thinking, “Never make this woman the navigator.” I am good at a number of things, but navigation is certainly not one of them. I don’t think in terms of direction, and I have a hard time envisioning which direction I’m going at any given time. If the sun’s out, and I can look up and see if it’s not high noon or dark, then I can tell you which way is east or west. That allows me to then determine north and south. But short of that, I am lost.

So I’m in the passenger seat (in what I think should be the driver’s seat) with two maps open on my lap, my cell phone (hoping to use my GPS), the map my husband has copied for me on his iPad and a compass (as a last resort) in my hand. I won’t go into the sordid details, but suffice it to say that after 2½ hours of struggling to read road signs (which were cute but not accurate), trying desperately to figure out where we actually were, and lots of shouting and accusations, eventually we ended up completely lost. As my husband pulled over to the side of the road — a space that could not have been more than 2 feet wide — we realized that this situation had taken us to the limits of our ability to get along. I remember thinking, “I can’t believe I married this guy!”

This was a humbling situation. I saw how quickly I can lose it — even after all the meditation and spiritual work I’ve done over the years. Despite all of my attempts to be more “Buddha-like,” there was definitely no Buddha in the car that day!!

Herein lies this week’s challenge. It’s easy for us to be calm, cool and collected when we’re not feeling challenged. But in situations where our abilities are in question, it’s easy to descend into backup behaviors. How quickly we move into negativity and resentment!

This week, observe how tense situations change your state of mind and actions. What can you do about it? Maybe it’s appropriate to argue and express your thoughts. Or maybe you need to step back a bit. Is it really so important to try and prove your point or convince someone that you’re right and they’re wrong?

When I get angry, I try to breathe through it. This technique helps me have more perspective. That day in the car, however, I couldn’t neutralize my anger. I was completely caught up in trying to defend myself. At one point, I thought, “This is one of those times when I could say something I really don’t mean, and it’s important right now to be aware of what I’m saying.” In the heat of an argument, we often say and do things we regret later. I didn’t want that to happen. Fortunately, my husband and I managed to not do any lasting damage. But I know that a trusting relationship can be threatened pretty quickly by viperous words and actions.

Try stopping in the midst of an argument, if possible. I recall having a heated discussion with a co-worker when suddenly she said, “Wait, let’s stop for a moment. I’m not sure this is worth arguing about.” We just stood there in silence for a few minutes and realized that we were making a mountain out of a mole hill and that trying a different approach in the discussion was going to work much better for both of us.

However you choose, take a look at what happens when feel you need to defend yourself or want to argue your position. Is it worth it? If you do need to express yourself that strongly, are you prepared for the consequences?

As my husband and I continued our journey in the car that day, we reached an intersection that I thought would tell us where we were. There we sat, at a crossroads surrounded by high hedgerows on all sides, without a sign in sight. In complete frustration, I looked at the compass. My next statement truly summed up the entire experience as well as my ineptitude as a navigator: “This must mean that north is west of here!” In disbelief, my husband just shook is head.

This week, do your best to see how you lose it in challenging situations — and if it’s really worth it. And if you never lose it, well, that’s worth looking at too!

Have a good week,

Kathleen

© Copyright 2013 Pathfinders Coaching, Scout Search Inc., all rights reserved.

What Body Language Can Tell You

Good day, team.

This week’s challenge comes from the New York Times editor, Adam Bryant. Bryant’s column “Corner Office” runs every Friday and Saturday. He also writes a blog where you can read his editorials and make comments.

I’ve been thinking a lot about body language lately, and when my good friend Jan Foster sent me this article, I realized how well it expressed what I’ve been observing in myself and others.

In that vein, today’s challenge is about the messages we send with our expressions and body language in the work environment. This week, become more aware of the impact your body language and facial expressions have on others. See if you can alter them to evoke better responses from your co-workers.

Are You Mad At Me?

“Are you mad at me?” That surprising question packs a powerful lesson.

A colleague I have worked with over the years came up to me in the hallway and asked if we could talk in a conference room. Sure, I said, wondering what was up. We sat down, and the question came out of the blue: “Are you mad at me?” Of course not, I responded immediately, since I had to no reason to be.

I was puzzled, but I realized later what was going on. As an editor, I faced a lot of tight deadlines, and I would often have just a short window to get a story into shape for the next day’s paper. I’m guessing I was thinking hard about some story as I walked through the newsroom one day — probably furrowing my brow, my mind a million miles away — when I briefly locked eyes with my colleague, who was startled enough by my body language to later pull me into a conference room to wonder if the air needed to be cleared between us.

That colleague did me a huge favor because I learned a memorable lesson that day about how people can read so much into subtle, often unintended, cues. From that moment on, I found myself making much more of an effort to be aware of my body language, particularly with the team of reporters I was leading, and to always show energy, confidence and optimism, even if I was on a tight deadline and wrestling with a difficult problem.

Many CEOs have told me similar stories about moments when they realized how much they were, in effect, constantly under the bright lights of a stage, intensely scrutinized by employees who often pay more attention to the nonverbal cues than what their leaders are saying. Do they look concerned? Is something up?

The leader who best crystallized this notion for me was Linda Hudson, the president of BAE Systems. I’ll let her tell the story, which comes from my interview with her a few years ago. I asked her about important leadership lessons she had learned. Here was one of them:

“It was when I first became a company president, and it was the first job where I was truly responsible for the performance of a company. I had mastered the day-to-day mechanics of running organizations. But I don’t think the leadership part of it had settled in quite as profoundly as it did when I took over a company.

“I was the first female president of the General Dynamics Corporation, and I went out and bought my new fancy suits to wear to work and so on. And I’m at work on my very first day, and a lady at Nordstrom’s had showed me how to tie a scarf in a very unusual kind of way for my new suit. And I go to work and wear my suit, and I have my first day at work. And then I come back to work the next day, and I run into no fewer than a dozen women in the organization who have on scarves tied exactly like mine.

“And that’s when I realized that life was never going to be the way it had been before, that people were watching everything I did. And it wasn’t just going to be about how I dressed. It was about my behavior, the example I set, the tone I set, the way I carried myself, how confident I was — all those kinds of things. It really was now about me and the context of setting the tone for the organization.

“That was a lesson I have never forgotten, that as a leader, people are looking at you in a way that you could not have imagined in other roles. And I didn’t see that nearly as profoundly when I was leading a functional organization or a smaller enterprise. But to this day, not only the awareness of that, but the responsibility that goes along with it, is something that I think about virtually every day.”

It’s a challenge that every leader faces. Here’s a smart tip that Jeffrey Swartz, the former CEO of Timberland, told me he learned from his father:

“I remember him saying, ‘Pick a face. If you want to be serious, then you have to be serious all the time. Because if you’re serious one day and happy the next, people will be confused. They won’t be able to figure out where you’re coming from and that’ll be threatening.’”

Pick a face. Ever since that colleague asked me the surprising question about whether I was angry, I’ve tried to pick a face — no more furrowed brows — and be consistent. If leaders are consistent, then their employees can spend more time focusing on their work, and less time searching for clues in the boss’s body language.

***

This week, try “picking a face” that is appropriate for your situation. I don’t think this suggestion was meant to imply that you should only have one expression all the time but that finding the right face for a particular situation is important for sending the right message to your team members. Try noticing how other people’s expressions change when you talk with them. Often, they will imitate what they see on your face. So if someone starts furrowing their brow when you’re speaking to them, check it to see if you’re also furrowing your brow. Perhaps you’re smiling while someone is speaking to you about a difficult situation. This makes it look as though you’re laughing at them or not taking them seriously. Or maybe you often roll your eyes when you’re frustrated and you didn’t even realize it.

Whatever the case may be, pay attention to your own expressions or body language first and see if you can adjust them so they appropriately convey your attention, your concern or your levity. Have the presence and confidence to convey the right message and not one that’s mixed up and confusing to others.

Have a good week!

Kathleen
© Copyright 2013 Pathfinders Coaching, Scout Search Inc., all rights reserved.

Facing Your Fears

Good day, team.

Today is Mother’s Day, and in honor of the day, I want to share a wonderful piece of writing that my stepdaughter Sari, shared on Facebook recently. It was written by her friend Angela Schuler. Sometimes the very thing we fear most happens and changes everything. I am grateful to Angela for her heartfelt and honest message and to Sari, my stepdaughter for sharing it.

“Before I had my children, I never wanted children. I also was frightened by other people’s children. I knew they were smarter than me and would see right through my insecurities and blurt them all out to everyone in their precious, honest-to-a-fault little voice! Man, I’m glad my life isn’t up to me! I started to transform into the person I should have always been once Linc came along—not while I was pregnant with him (I was still petrified) but the second he was born. I could feel it happening. People who had been around me before and after commented on it, and all I could say was, “I love being a mom.” It wasn’t what I wanted, but it turns out it was what I wanted. The movie “Waitress” with Keri Russell shows my transformation in movie form. Just take out the affair, the deadbeat husband and the pie-making skills.

These three amazing people that live in my house and depend on me, I have no doubt, they are my angels. Happy Mother’s Day. “

This week, think about how your fears hold you back from experiences you might actually want. Try stepping out of your comfort zone for 20 seconds to do something completely different, out of character or frightening. Maybe say something to a work associate you’ve always wanted to say but have been too afraid. How about standing up and speaking out in a group, when normally you would sit quietly? Perhaps call a relative and have that conversation you’ve always avoided. Or maybe find a way to approach a homeless person on the street, look them sincerely in the eye and ask if you can help them.

Whatever the scary thing is, see what happens when you jump into it rather than avoid it. You may discover, like Angela did, that it wasn’t what you wanted, but it turns out it was what you wanted.

Life offers us gifts in so many ways, and we often get in the way of receiving them. In Angela’s case, she was moved out of the way of her fears, and it brought her three children and more joy and happiness than she could have ever imagined.

Have a good week!

Kathleen

© Copyright 2013 Pathfinders Coaching, Scout Search Inc., all rights reserved.

Dealing With Our Blindspots

Good day, team.
A former client of mine sent me an article this week about our blind spots — character traits or personal behaviors we don’t see but that show up in our interactions with others. This week’s challenge is about being willing to see our blind spots and what to do about them once we see them.
When I took my training to become a coach, I was introduced to one of my major blinds spots: I often interrupted people when they were speaking. I did this in a variety of ways. I interrupted them mid-sentence to express what I thought about their subject matter, I finished their sentences for them, and I sometimes asked them a question while they were still talking. This behavior was definitely not appropriate for coaching someone and, I painfully discovered, was extremely irritating to my friends and family who had been putting up with it for years.
Once I got over the embarrassment of having this behavior pointed out to me, I began to observe what was happening to me when I interrupted someone.
First, I was more prone to interrupt someone if I was really engaged in what they were saying. Getting excited about the subject matter raised the energy in my body. My heart would beat faster, and I felt the excitement of connecting with an idea or having thoughts quickly come to my mind. I had to do something with all that energy, so words would come out of my mouth before they were supposed to, often right in the middle of another person’s sentence.
Second, somehow I thought I knew exactly what other people were talking about, so I finished their sentences for them. This became such a habit that I found people I often talked with just naturally allowed me to finish their sentences.
Third, I was clueless to the reaction people had to my interruptions. I was usually so absorbed in what I was saying that I would miss their reaction. This kept my blind spot fully intact. I was missing all of their “this really irritates me” signals. I had no reason to change my behavior if I wasn’t aware of how irritating it was to others.
When I became certified in the Goldsmith stakeholder coaching program recently, I realized the importance of having others give us feedback so we have an opportunity to observe our blindspots. At the heart of this coaching model is the participation of the stakeholder, and that’s why it’s so successful. It’s the people you ask to observe your behaviors and give you constant feedback — or as Marshall Goldsmith calls it, “feed forward” — that make this coaching model so useful.
With this method (if you have the courage to do it), you ask your stakeholders to tell you if you’re using the behaviors you want to use to improve or if you’re still stuck in your blind spot behaviors. In my case, I asked my stakeholders to observe whether I was still interrupting them, and they had my permission and encouragement to tell me when I was. In the spirit of feed forward, they could also give me ideas for what I could do going forward to change this blind spot behavior.
I have a clear memory of the first time my coaching professor observed my interrupting behavior in front of the rest of the class. I was so embarrassed and humiliated. To make matters worse, within my body I felt like someone had just taken all the wind out of my sails. All that energy that was enthusiastic about what the other person was saying was stopped dead in its tracks, and I was left to wallow in it as it slowly dissipated.
I weakly asked, how do I stop this and what do I do with all this energy? What do I do instead? The teacher was smart enough to ask my fellow classmates. Many of them chimed in with great suggestions, and I realized that by being vulnerable and willing to listen, I got some very sincere and great suggestions:
“Try being present to your breathing while the other person is talking, and when the desire to speak arises, breathe your way through it until the person is done speaking.”
“Sit on one of your hands or put your hand in your pocket as soon as the other person starts to speak. Don’t allow yourself to say anything or move your hand until the person is done speaking.”
“Listen to your voice when you speak. Is it high and excited sounding? Or does it sound like it’s coming from deeper within you, from your belly rather than your throat? Try hearing the difference in tone, and when you do speak to someone, try speaking from your belly. You may find that speaking from there allows you to control the urge to interrupt and slows you down enough to catch yourself from interrupting.”
I was humbled by the sincerity of their suggestions. Everyone could see that we all have blind spots, and mine weren’t any better or worse than anyone else’s. And when they were caught in their own blind spots, I greatly wanted to help them see their behavior and find good ways to change it.
All of this encouraged me to ask for more feedback and suggestions. As painful as it was to receive it, I knew that this was where I really needed to do my work — in the places where I was most blind.
This week, have the courage to ask some of your stakeholders (the people who see your behaviors daily) what behaviors they see you doing that are not helpful or useful. Ask them how you could change your behaviors to better suit the situation and be more appropriate.
Maybe you get immediately defensive when someone gives you constructive feedback and say things like, “I do not” or “You’re mistaken.” This certainly won’t encourage the person to continue to offer suggestions. Maybe you’re someone who talks too much. Try becoming more aware of how people react to you in the moment. Do you notice that people stop listening to you while you are talking? How about the blind spot of always playing the role of the devil’s advocate? Do you find that you almost always disagree with what’s being said just to make sure the other side is heard? Or maybe you want people to see how smart you are by raising the other perspective? Sometimes this behavior can be useful and sometimes not — it all depends on the situation. But if you always do it, chances are there’s a blind spot there. Here are two more of my favorites: acting as the class clown or the cynic. Do you frequently use humor to buffer situations, even at the expense of others? Or are you the one who often makes a cynical comment, particularly when someone in the room is excited or hopeful about the work he or she is doing? One client of mine told me he was afraid to go into meetings with his boss. He seemed so mild mannered and polite with everyone most of the time, but occasionally, his boss would make a snide remark to someone in a meeting. It was so out of character that no one was even sure if he’d actually said it — except for the person he made the snide remark to. They never forgot it.
The best part about asking others to help us increase our self-awareness is in their sincere responses. We all know we need help, and it’s the loving kindness in us that wants to serve each other in the best way we can. When someone sincerely asks for help seeing their blindspots, we are more than willing to assist. It’s like seeing a blind person trying to cross a busy intersection, would we just allow them to walk into the street without trying to help them cross it?
Have a good week!

Kathleen

Many thanks to Christian Buschow for sending me this blog entry about blind spots. Here’s the link: http://aslantraining.com/blog/what-does-your-sign-say.

How We Like To Learn

Good day, team.

Over the past few months, I’ve been participating in a number of different coaching training and certification processes. My experience in these classes has reminded me how important it is to understand how we learn best — and this is the subject of this week’s challenge.

Research has uncovered three major types of learning styles. Auditory learners enjoy learning through hearing. They would rather listen to a subject being explained than read about it. Reciting information out loud and having music in the background while studying or reading is common for these learners.

Visual learners prefer to see examples of what they are learning. They learn best by looking at graphics, watching a demonstration or reading. For these people, it’s easy to look at graphs and charts, but they may have difficulty concentrating while listening to an explanation.

Kinesthetic learners learn by touch. These people enjoy hands-on experiences. Doing an activity can be the easiest way for them to learn. Sitting still while studying can be difficult, but writing things down makes it easier to understand.

It’s certainly possible for a person to learn through all of these methods, but many find that one is preferable. For example, I can’t concentrate when there’s a lot of background noise. I find it difficult to listen to music, for example, while reading a book. On the other hand, if someone is teaching me something and explaining it to me while giving me a visual representation of the subject, I learn far more easily.

Last week, while sitting in a training class, I noticed that the gentlemen sitting next to me was a very different learner than I am. The trainer presented the information in a number of different ways. First, she explained what she was trying to teach us. Then she gave each table of five participants an opportunity to do some activity that taught us the material. After that, we shared our experiences, and the teacher finished by walking us through the written material in our manual.

I definitely learned more by participating with the group at the table. The activity gave us an opportunity to experiment with what the trainer had presented and to learn it by doing it. I was least interested in the last part when she referenced the manual and walked us through the written descriptions.

On the other hand, the gentleman next to me made very detailed notes when the trainer first introduced the subject. His handwriting was small and neatly placed in his notebook. When it came time for group participation, he was quiet and didn’t seem very interested in participating. But when the trainer referenced the manual, he took out his yellow highlighter and highlighted the parts he found most important. Another woman at our table talked more than the rest of us during the group activity, and when we reviewed the manual, she spent her time texting. Still another person at our table seemed anxious for the trainer to move along at a faster pace and had trouble paying attention.

These observances showed me just how differently we all learn. I realized how important it is to understand what particular style works best for each of us individually. For example, I am a visual and kinesthetic learner. I often think in pictures, and the best way for me to learn something is to try it. I’m not afraid to jump right in because I believe that it’s not until you’re actually doing something that you can learn it on all levels. If I have to sit through PowerPoint presentations with more than three bullets per slide or a presentation that’s more than six pages long, I have trouble paying attention. If someone puts a spreadsheet up on the screen, I’m bored, regardless of how important the information might be. On the other hand, if someone demonstrates what the spreadsheet represents or tells me an interesting story about the information, then I can begin to learn it.

The gentleman in my class who wrote everything down is obviously not a kinesthetic learner. He found participating in our table experiments and exercises difficult, and he much preferred to read the information and pick out the specific parts he found relevant. The woman at our table who talked a lot needed to engage with the group and ask questions. She seemed to be an auditory learner and wasn’t distracted by other teams in the room or incoming text messages.

The week, observe how you like to learn. Watch your teammates in meetings and see if you can determine how they like to learn. Maybe one of them has to frequently repeat what someone else has said in order to get it. Or maybe someone on your team loves to take notes and refer to them often until he or she fully understands what’s being presented.

Do you prefer visual presentations of a topic more than reading about it in a manual? Perhaps you are like me and prefer to plunge right in before reading the manual. Maybe you like listening to audio recordings, podcasts, webinars and lectures. Or maybe you find that the tactile method of hands-on learning in labs, workshops or participatory classes works best.

Acknowledging how you like to learn can save you an enormous about of time and energy when it comes to learning something new. Don’t be afraid to let the people around you know how you like to learn. If you love to learn through visuals such as movies, presentations or whiteboards, tell your boss, your teacher and your other associates. Knowing this about you will help them decide which learning format is the one you thrive in.

Whatever your preferred style, try to create situations for learning that are enjoyable.

As Confucius advised, “He who learns but does not think is lost! He who thinks but does not learn is in great danger.”

Have a good week!

Kathleen

© Copyright 2013 Pathfinders Coaching, Scout Search Inc., all rights reserved.

Poetry During Poetry Month of April

Good day, team.

It’s April, and that means it’s poetry month again. As I always do in April, I’d like to share a poem with you that speaks to me. Your challenge this week is to find a piece of writing that speaks to you — maybe it’s the words to a song, a piece of prose, a poem or even just one line. Write it down and keep it someplace where you can see it each day. Let it remind you of what’s most important to you.

Here is mine:

A Noiseless Patient Spider

I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,

Mark’d how to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,

It launched forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself.

Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,

Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,

Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them.

Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,

Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

— Walt Whitman

Have a good week,

Kathleen

© Copyright 2013 Pathfinders Coaching, Scout Search Inc., all rights reserved.

The Arrival of Spring

Good day, team.

Today’s challenge is about appreciating the arrival of spring. I’d simply like to share an article I read this week in the New York Times, “The Farm From Afar” by Verlyn Klinkenborg:

“Last week I got an e-mail from one of the two young farmers living at my small farm in upstate New York while I’m teaching in Southern California for the semester. She mentioned ‘green spears’ shooting out of the ground. The thought threw me into a vernal prolepsis, a mental flash-forward to spring, for which there must be a German word or a Chinese poem.

“I imagined the barn with the woodchucks beneath it stirring. I can picture the horses shedding winter, and their hair drifting across the snow.

“There’s plenty of spring in Southern California. Spring comes every time it rains, and it seems truly protean — herbs, trees, shrubs and flowers jostling one another, a mob of blossom, a fog bank of pollen. But I find myself missing the intensity of expectation that spring brings to the farm, the sense that the weather is rushing to meet a deadline, a linear thrust toward the heart of May. The cues come in sequence. One day it’s the hellebores, then snowdrops and then unruly forsythia.

“None of the real farmers in my family have been very good travelers. They went to war — World War II, Vietnam — and when they got home, they didn’t do much leaving again. Once I met an older farmer who told me he hadn’t missed a milking, morning or evening, in 40 years. It was more than just a sense of duty. It was a worry that things won’t go right — the corn won’t grow, the calves won’t fatten —unless you’re watching.

“In a small way, I know how that feels. Of course, the goldfinches will brighten without me. And the wild mint is already expanding its empire, I’m sure. The barn-loft door stands open, ready for the swallows. I’ll be along soon enough, just behind them.”

As I look out at the new blossoms on the trees and the daffodils in my garden this morning, I am reminded of the freshness of the season and how glad we are when it finally arrives. This week, enjoy the emergence of spring, wherever you live. Revel in its newness, its beauty and its promise

Have a good week,

Kathleen

© Copyright 2013 Pathfinders Coaching, Scout Search Inc., all rights reserved.

Appreciating Life’s Mysteries

Good day, team.

This week’s challenge is about allowing the great mystery of our lives and the things that happen to us be as they are. Here’s the experience that sparked this idea:

Years ago, I was in Ireland on a writing trip with the poet David Whyte and 22 other aspiring writers. We signed up for this adventure to learn more about writing and to experience the Irish countryside with someone who knew the land extremely well. Once there, we traveled, mostly on foot, throughout the countryside in Western Ireland with David and many of his poet, musician and otherwise eccentric friends.

Our days were pretty much the same. We woke in our lovely cottages in the seaside town of Ballyvaughn, had breakfast with our cottage mates, then walked to the main house for tea and coffee, and shared the stories and poems that we had written along the way. Then we’d hike together for the rest of the morning, which always managed to produce some amazing revelations, either from the earth or the stones or the animals, about life, love, the universe and nature.

After our morning jaunt, we usually had a hearty lunch at a pub or restaurant and then more ambling in the afternoon, followed by a late afternoon nap back at the cottage. In the evenings, we were entertained by local musicians or simply had a few pints at the pub and shared stories — with plenty of laughter. All in all, it was my idea of the perfect vacation.

One day, after a particularly strenuous hike, we arrived in a small town, anxious to plunk ourselves down at the pub for food and drink at lunchtime. As we drove into the town square, we all noticed a bright red phone booth and immediately expressed our desire to call home before lunch. We’d not had any Internet or phone access for about five days, so the idea that we could call loved ones, check voicemail or touch base with work associates seemed like a luxury. We exited our vans quickly and immediately lined up at the phone booth to make our calls. I ended up last in line — mostly because others seemed to have a more pressing need to call family and work. It was fine with me; I wasn’t in a hurry to call home.

As I stood in line, I noticed how much the light kept changing — not at all unusual for Ireland at the beginning of June when blasts of rain and wind can come up without warning to produce a mini-torrential downpour and, within the next moment, be gone as quickly as they came. I also noticed a gentlemen standing just outside the door of the pub, under a small bit of roof overhang, smoking a pipe. He donned a woolen cap and wore the typical wool blazer, you so often see on the farmers and field workers in Ireland, complete with a few holes and well-worn patches at the elbows.

He watched us Americans in our waterproof jackets, hiking shoes and nylon pants, with walking sticks in hand and backpacks slung over our shoulders. Here we were, all lined up at the only phone booth for miles around, looking anxiously at whomever was on the phone trying to be patient for our turn. I wondered what he must think of us as he stood so still and contemplative, pipe smoke drifting up around his capped head. He appeared infinitely patient compared with the anxiety and anticipation that circulated within our group.

It seemed odd to be so excited about a phone call, but we’d all grown up with the ability to pick up the phone at anytime, anywhere and get the information we needed. So this felt like our big chance! I watched as each person emerged from the phone booth, some with satisfied expressions, having made the connection they’d hoped for. Others, with disappointed faces, not having been able to connect with the person they were trying to reach. Who could explain this phenomenon of picking up a phone receiver, holding it to your ear, putting some money into a box, and then within a few seconds, hearing the voice of another person who was thousands of miles away from you? “Hello?” they would answer, and there you were in a bright red phone booth in a tiny Irish town no one had ever heard of, speaking to them as though they were sitting right next to you.

Now that, I thought, is a mystery. I know someone could explain how it all works to me at least mechanically and technologically. But I was baffled by the idea itself. Perhaps because I’d gone for five days without using a phone, it dawned on me what an amazing thing it was that we could do this. I’d never thought about it before. But now it seemed to be nothing short of a miracle that technology had enabled this tool for people to connect emotionally and intellectually in a fairly intimate fashion over such great distances. I remember distinctly thinking, “Goodness me, what other mysteries exist in my life that I take for granted?”

As the line got smaller, I gave more thought about who to call. I began to get excited about talking with my mother to let her know how I was. She was always so happy to hear from me, and she would love the idea that I was calling from a red phone booth in Ireland somewhere.

Just as my turn for the booth was getting close, the skies turned black and a sudden downpour soaked me to the bone. The person before me was just finishing his call, but until he did, I stood waiting in the rain. As he quickly opened the glass door to the booth, I heard a quick, “I’m so sorry,” as he made a mad dash for the pub. I got in the booth and, as the rain beat loudly on the metal roof, I realized that the deafening sound would prevent me from hearing anyone on the other end of the line. I waited, feeling like an idiot to be standing in a glass box, while the rain thundered across the town square in huge sheets of water. The man at the pub’s doorway, continued to smoke his pipe and made a slight adjustment of his legs, so that his right foot scooted back under the overhang, which now dripped incessantly from the rain.

As the windows to the phone booth steamed up, it became impossible to see what was happening outside, and it made my waiting for the storm to pass even more vexing. Then, as the rain began to dissipate, I picked up the receiver in hopes of making my call. The phone was dead. I would not get to make a call after all. All I could do was wait for the storm to pass so I could make my way into the pub.

After five or so long minutes, I began to see the inside of the booth lighten up, and I knew that it was over. As I emerged from the booth, I was happy to see rays of light streaming through fast-moving clouds and everything within my sight was twinkling as tiny bits of raindrops sparkled in the sunlight. What a miracle, I thought. The world around me was refreshed and enlightened.

I made my way across the now muddy main street to the front door of the pub. The Irish gentleman still stood there, now poking at the bowl of his pipe with a well worn metal tool, looking intently at its contents. As I approached, he looked right at me, eye to eye, heart to heart. His eyes were so bright and present that they disarmed me. I was suddenly embarrassed by the intimacy and buffered it by making small talk. “Gosh,” I exclaimed, “that was quite a storm!” He looked up at the sky for a brief moment and then back at me. “It’s a mystery,” he responded. The total acceptance in his voice and the presence in his eyes rendered me silent. We stood, in that moment, looking into each others eyes in complete silence. There was nothing else to say. It was a mystery, and it was perfect.

As I sat in the pub a few moments later with a pint in my hand, I realized how right he was. It’s really all a mystery, I thought. It’s all a matter of how you see it. You can take it all for granted and not see the great mystery or beauty in anything, or you can experience just the opposite. Every leaf of grass, as Walt Whitman said, is a miracle. In that moment, I knew that the great mysteries of life are just that and need no further explanation. The wise Irishman at the doorway had allowed me to see it simply for what it was — no need to analyze, no need to investigate, no need to explain — just a mystery. And being fine with that was the gift he gave me in that moment.

This week, take notice of the mysteries in your life. Perhaps it’s the shrubs in your yard beginning to grow new buds. Maybe it’s the color of your teammate’s sweater that matches the color of her eyes. How about the first bite of a warmed morning muffin or a sip of scrumptious red wine? Notice the changing weather this time of year from cold and rainy to bright and sunny, all within a few minutes span. Last weekend, I saw three different rainbows emerge across the city and was reminded again of life’s great mysteries.

See these mysteries and try being content with just observing them. Try experiencing them instead of explaining them. Allow them to seep into you like water into a sponge. Be with them just as they are.

As the great author Paulo Coelho wrote, “We have to stop and be humble enough to understand that there is something called ‘mystery.’”

Have a good week!

Kathleen

© Copyright 2013 Pathfinders Coaching, Scout Search Inc., all rights reserved.

Do What Makes You Happy

Good day, team.

First, a correction regarding last week’s challenge, “Remarkable Bosses.” The quoted piece was not written by Roy Gardner as I stated but by author Jeff Haden and was published originally in Inc. magazine. The article, titled “9 Hidden Qualities of Remarkable Bosses,” can be found in the Feb. 4, 2013, issue of the magazine. My apologies for the incorrect attribution and to Mr. Haden.

This week’s challenge has emerged from a book I just finished reading, “Short Night of the Shadow Catcher: The Epic Life and Immortal Photographs of Edward Curtis” by Timothy Egan. It’s a wonderful book about how the famous photographer Edward Curtis grew up in the Midwest, how he started taking pictures and eventually became the premiere portrait photographer in Seattle, and how he found his life’s mission in photographing and recording the dialects and cultural details of the American Indian.

He did most of his work in the Indians’ natural settings, and although disease and forced relocation reduced native populations to almost nothing, Curtis managed to produce an astounding 20-volume set of books called “The North American Indian,” which has become a national treasure. Somehow Curtis knew that he was photographing and recording a race of people that would possibly be gone forever, and it gave him a sense of urgency that caused him to focus his entire life on this project.

The dedication Curtis had to his project and the love and respect he experienced for the Indians inspires me.

What is it that captures a person so totally that they become completely devoted to a design, a project, an idea? What caused Thomas Edison to create 400 patented product designs within an eight-year period? What makes a professional dancer such as Rudolf Nureyev practice ballet six to eight hours a day, seven days a week to perfect his technique? How does this kind of dedication emerge and take hold of someone so that he or she gives up almost everything else? What drives the dedication?

In Curtis’ case, it started with the faces he saw through the lens of his camera. In the first few portraits of Indians he produced, he saw expressions of pride but also resignation in the faces of his subjects. He saw a wisdom and emotional depth that he didn’t understand but was drawn to. He saw a deep anger and resentment that he would only understand some years later after he had lived with the Indians in their diminished surroundings. He wanted to know more about these people, and because he knew they were disappearing, he knew he had a limited window of time.

Curtis was re-energized each time he arrived at an Indian camp, often after a weeks-long, perilous journey. I knew this was why he kept doing it, even at the expense of his family and financial resources. He loved their ceremonies and rituals, their spiritual beliefs and deep connection to nature, their familial ways and artifacts. They filled his heart in a way that no life in Seattle could, and he felt a deep devotion to making sure the things he loved about their culture would be shared forever.

In reading about Curtis, I began to understand that his happiness came not from dedication to his life’s purpose of recording a dying race of people but from doing what made him most happy. Even if Curtis hadn’t produced “The Native American Indian,” I’m sure he would have found a way to live and work with the Indians he grew to love and respect. Fortunately, the project continued to allow him to do what he loved.

Somehow, all this took me off the hook, so to speak, from having to have a life’s purpose. It’s kind of like being asked when you’re a kid, “What do you want to do when you grow up?” When you’re a kid, you often don’t have a clue and can feel like a real dummy when you reply, “I dunno.

There’s so much talk nowadays, particularly in coaching circles, about needing to have a life’s purpose. I see many of my clients struggling with the big question, “Why am I doing this when it doesn’t seem important?” This attitude fosters scarcity thinking. We focus on what’s missing rather than on an appreciation for what we already have or what we are already doing, which instead fosters an attitude of abundance. When I study people who were so devoted to what they were doing and who, in many cases, had a huge impact on the world around them, I see people who often didn’t start out knowing what their great mission in life would be. They simply stumbled onto something they grew to love and kept doing it. So the real devotion is not to some external purpose but to whatever it is that enriches our heart and feeds our soul.

I feel fortunate that the work I do has meaning and brings me joy. Of course, this doesn’t happen every day, but most days, in one of my meetings with a client, there will be a moment of understanding or a connection made that reminds me of why I do what I do. I get the most joy from getting to the heart of the matter and helping someone find what’s important and then learn to make decisions from that place of clarity. Each time this happens, I feel more renewed and invigorated. I love helping others find paths where they think there are none, illuminate dark places to see what comes to light, maximize strengths, reconnect with the people and activities that bring them joy, and try out different ways of doing things to be more successful. If this makes for a purposeful life, then so be it. But, it’s not the reason I do it. I do it because it makes me happy.

This week, find what makes you happy in your work and do more of it. First, identify the activities that you’re passionate about and that give you energy. Then, look to see how much time you’re doing those things versus the things that feel like drudgery and take energy from you. There’s always a balance between these two, but find ways to restructure your responsibilities so you’re doing more of what makes you happy.

If you’re beating yourself up for not knowing what your life’s purpose is, just stop. Stop long enough to look out of your eyes and be present to what you’re doing right now. Does it make you happy? Does it give you energy? Do you want to do more of it? It may seem small and insignificant, but some of the smallest moments create the most memory due to their poignancy and our presence.

We all know people who live purposeful lives. It gives them energy to think about how they can continue to do good and help improve the lives of others in this world. I respect their efforts and admire their fortitude. I also know that when asked how they can sacrifice so much to help others, they often say, “It may look like they get all the benefits, but in fact, I’m the one who gets the most out of this.” It’s because what they’re doing makes them happy. And fortunately for us, it’s helping all of us as well.

Have a good week!

Kathleen

© Copyright 2013 Pathfinders Coaching, Scout Search Inc., all rights reserved.