Three Rules

Andre De Shields won a Tony Award last night for his performance in the musical, Hadestown. Here’s what he had to say in his acceptance speech:

“I would like to share with you just three cardinal rules of my sustainability and longevity:

One, surround yourself with people whose eyes light up when they see you coming. 

Two, slowly is the fastest way to get to where you want to be.

And, three, the top of one mountain is the bottom of the next, so keep climbing.”


 

Poem for a Sunday Morning

Just about a year ago I gave my girls a book of poetry from which the following selection is taken. They are both wise, each in their way, and I am privileged to support them as they grow into their inherent wisdom, adding to it one layer at a time with each new milestone, each new level of maturity.

That my children have a lot to teach me is a forgone conclusion. That I will pay attention, listen and learn, is not. We are preparing for much different futures, but we are always preparing.



Feeling Wise

A lady was quoted in the newspaper.
“It’s not so hard to feel wise.
Just think of something dumb you could say,
then don’t say it.”

I like her.
I would take her gingerbread
if I knew where her house was.

Julia Child the famous chef said,
“I never feel lonely in the kitchen.
Food is very friendly.
Just looking at a potato, I like
to pat it.”

Staring down
makes you feel tall.
Staring into someone else’s eyes
makes you feel not alone.
Staring out the window during school,
you become the future,
smooth and large.

{Naomi Shihab Nye, A Maze Me: Poems for Girls}


DAVID BERRY is the author of “A More Daring Life: Finding Voice at the Crossroads of Change” and the founder of RULE13 Learning. He speaks and writes about the complexity of leading in a changing world.

Do the Work

“You can’t microwave emotional intelligence.”
Chip Conley, author of Wisdom at Work

There is no “fast forward” button. There is no shortcut, no “work around,” no Cliff’s Notes.

You have to do the work. And there is a hierarchy that can be learned, can even be mastered, but only over time and through experience, persistence, patience and a deep commitment to continuous learning:

Self-awareness: you accurately notice yourself, both your inner state and your behaviors – especially under stress.

Self-management: armed with your awareness of what you feel and how you act – again, especially under stress – you are able to anticipate and redirect yourself into more positive and beneficial behaviors.

Social awareness: perhaps the greatest gift of self-awareness and self-management is that it makes you keenly, empathetically aware of other’s feelings. Once you become fluent in your own emotional state you are capable of acknowledging the emotional states of others.

Relationship management: because you notice more you are prepared to respond well. You are prepared to stay present with another person as they experience a difficult emotional state and help them to work through it constructively.

As I ask my students: You will be a great accountant. So great, in fact, that you are promoted to management. And in your first week as a manager, an employee, formerly a peer, comes to your office to tell you that his mother has died suddenly. She had been sick but was expected to recover. The loss is sudden and your employee is shattered. He breaks down in tears standing in your doorway. What do you do?

What do you do?


DAVID BERRY is the author of “A More Daring Life: Finding Voice at the Crossroads of Change” and the founder of RULE13 Learning. He speaks and writes about the complexity of leading in a changing world. Connect with him on Twitter at @berrydavid.

I don’t know

“The human ego prefers knowing and being certain over being honest. ‘Don’t bother me with the truth, I want to be in control,’ it invariably says. Most people who think they are fully conscious or ‘smart’ and in control, have a big iron manhole cover over their unconscious. It does give them a sense of being right and in charge, but it seldom yields compassion, community, or wisdom.”

– Richard Rohr


If you want to encourage more compassion, start with “I don’t know.” Your vulnerability will signal to others that their vulnerability is ok, and normal. The other day, not knowing what to say to a sick friend, I somewhat shamefully Googled, “what to say to a sick friend.” It turns out that there are some very compassionate people in the world with more practice than me in being in those tough situations. My “I don’t know” led me to the help I needed.

If you want to establish a stronger community, start with “I don’t know.” You will signal to others that it is the combination of your perspectives and experience that form a strong community. You will become an invitation for others to share what they have to offer. The leader of the band I’m a part of consistently asks for the group’s ideas about what music to perform and is always open to suggestions about how we can most successfully sing and play.

If you want to discover more wisdom, start with “I don’t know.” A momentary pause leaves space for more thoughtful consideration, for a deeper learning to take place. Early in my work as a leadership coach, I felt self-conscious pressure to fill in any gaps in the conversation. I have learned to pause and allow brief silences to serve as catalysts for my curiosity.

It’s tough to remove the manhole cover, and I’m not sure I will ever be rid of it entirely. But I have enough encouraging examples of ways I have learned to let go of being right, to let go of being in control.

I am reminded, again and again, that they all start with “I don’t know.”


DAVID BERRY is the author of “A More Daring Life: Finding Voice at the Crossroads of Change” and the founder of RULE13 Learning. He speaks and writes about the complexity of leading in a changing world. Connect with him on Twitter at @berrydavid.

The Stream Becomes a River

When I wrote about love a few weeks ago I wrote from a place of inspiration. I witnessed love in an unexpected time and place and expressed my hope that the expansiveness of love could be normalized within the more sterile landscapes of organizational life.

Today as I write about love, I write from a much different place. It’s mired rather than inspired in feelings of loss; loss of control, loss of solutions, loss of the familiar.

Some of that loss is about my son’s impending departure for college and wondering if I’ve done enough, been a good enough father.

Some of that loss is connected to a current family crisis that has resurfaced old hurts, bringing a sense of childlike helplessness.

Poet David Whyte says it is a delusion to believe that we can “take a sincere path in life without having our hearts broken.” That is, anything we wholeheartedly devote ourselves to – marriage, career, children – will undoubtedly, inevitably pull us apart at the seams.

It takes resilience to stitch those seams of sincerity back together, and resilience like that only comes from a more expansive heart.

Each of us is moving along a continuum of pulling apart and stitching together. For some it’s conscious and deliberate work. For others, it’s beyond awareness but present in corrupting behaviors. Some are inspired, others are mired. This is in the marketplace, in our homes and in our workplaces where we spend so much precious time and energy.

Which is why we must – especially as leaders – cultivate a presence that not only accepts this truth but also helps us learn how to work with it.

We can do this – I can do this – if I remain open to experience instead of turning away; if I remain open to learning from the wisdom of others instead of struggling alone.

Here is one example of that wisdom:

“If you pour a handful of salt into a cup of water, the water becomes undrinkable. But if you pour the salt into a river, people can continue to draw the water to cook, wash, and drink. The river is immense, and it has the capacity to receive, embrace, and transform. When our hearts are small, our understanding and compassion are limited, and we suffer. We can’t accept or tolerate others and their shortcomings, and we demand that they change. But when our hearts expand, these same things don’t make us suffer anymore. We have a lot of understanding and compassion and can embrace others. We accept others as they are, and then they have a chance to transform.”

 – Thich Nhat Hanh –

I know that the feelings of loss that come with change are temporary. I know that the seams can be stitched back together. What I must learn, and what I remain hopeful we all will learn, is that the garment itself can not be repaired to what it was. That in fact, with time and faith, it will be even more beautiful than before.

Though I feel like a stream, I seek to become a river. And streams become rivers as long as they continue to flow.


DAVID BERRY is the author of “A More Daring Life: Finding Voice at the Crossroads of Change” and the founder of RULE13 Learning. He speaks and writes about the complexity of leading in a changing world. Connect with him on Twitter at @berrydavid.