Last Tuesday, I tweeted – just once – that I was no longer with ThoughtWorks. When I arrived at the conference venue, and started seeing friends, colleagues, and acquaintances, I was astounded, amazed, and overwhelmed.

“I heard, and I’m so sorry.”

“You look great! You look so relaxed.”

“What will you do next?”

Consider that I had not personally spoken with more than one or two people about my change in circumstances. What I had done was to tweet and post on Facebook, LinkedIn, and Google+.

One of the most amazing occurrences came when I was talking with my friend Doc Norton (@docondev). As we were talking, one of his co-workers sent him a message: “Did you see that Steven ‘Doc’ List is no longer with ThoughtWorks?”

Consider the amazing power of the social networks and community we live in. A few years ago, I would have been calling and writing to people individually and in groups to let them know what’s going on. Today, one posting and BAM!

The implications that go with that are important:

• Your online reputation is important and real
• Since perception is reality, people believe you are who you seem to be online
• Building your network well can mean the difference between career choices and career compromises
• Treating people well online, as well as in person, has real value
• Think carefully about your online persona, and craft it with intent

Think carefully about your online persona, and craft it with intent.

A poorly crafted one will come back to bite you in the butt. A well crafted one will serve you well.

For this post, I’ll refer to that persona as Vern (since it could be a male or female name).

Vern complains. In fact, Vern seems to be happiest when complaining, which is ironic.

Vern seems to be helpless in frustration, seeing the world as beyond his/her ability to affect and change. The bad things seem to have overwhelming power. The situation always seems to be beyond Vern’s control. And Vern can always find something to complain and be unhappy about.

For a while now, I’ve been saying to people…

Sadly, Vern is too ready to say “I can’t”.

I disagree. I can always do something about it. If I can’t change “it”, then I can change me. I can leave, for instance. Or I can learn to accept things as they are. These are frequently the ends of the spectrum, with various forms of changing me and it in the range in the middle.

However, if Very chooses not to take any of the many choices available, then my follow-up is…

I mean, if you choose not to do anything to change your situation, Vern, then do me the courtesy of not battering me with your frustration, whining, griping, or other expressions that make it clear that you believe that something or someone else is in charge of your life and circumstances.

Take charge of your life, willya Vern?

Check out the line of shirts and mugs with these images and variations.

And just at that magical moment when Michael reached total peace and balance – just as the recliner was at the perfect angle and his mind was like a still pool – a small voice said “Daddy? Daddy? Will you take me to the store? You promised!”

Oh, my. There was nothing Michael wanted less at that moment than to sit up, get himself in gear, and get in the car to drive his daughter Megan to the store.

Of course he’d promised. But it wasn’t really that important, was it? It wasn’t something that couldn’t wait, was it? And if he just held on, he could regain that place of peace and balance. Just for a few more moments, maybe?

“Can we wait just 15 minutes, honey?”

“Well, umm, okay Daddy. Fifteen minutes. You promise?”

“You betcha, honey! Fifteen minutes.”

By the time that last word was out of his mouth, Michael was back in Nirvana. Ahhhhhhhhh.

In what seemed to Michael to have been just seconds, there was that voice again.

“Daddy? Daddy? It’s been fifteen minutes Daddy. Can we go now?”

Michael struggled. A promise is a promise, after all, and everything we do as parents teaches our children, right? But how often do we, as adults, find that wonderful moment?

Sigh.

Truthfully, Michael was feeling put upon. Of course Megan couldn’t get to the store by herself. But it just wasn’t that important and Michael really wanted to enjoy his stolen moment of peace and she could go any time – it’s not like it really had to be today and now!

Sigh.

Michael straightened his recliner and forced himself up. He went to the bathroom to rinse his face and pull himself together. Somehow he found a smile and a wink for Megan. Off they went to the store.

Of course, Megan being Megan, it didn’t quite turn out to be a direct trip to the first store.

“Daddy?” Megan asked.

“Yes, punkin?” Michael responded with some trepidation.

“You ‘member those school supplies I need? We haven’t gotten them yet. Since we’re already out, can we go by that store too and get my school supplies?”

Sigh.

“Sure, sweetheart. Might as well.”

Somehow, Michael had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be quick.

And then Michael figured that as long as they were out, he might as well stop by the book store and pick up that book he’d been wanting. But before they got there…

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I forgot that Mommy said that we should pick up her prescriptions at the pharmacy while we’re out. Can we please do that too?”

Sigh.

“Sure. I guess we might as well go there first, since the pharmacy closes in a few minutes.”

Of course, that meant going a couple of miles in the other direction. And since it was about 4:30pm, it meant going through rush hour traffic as well.

Sigh.

They made it to the pharmacy before closing time, but had to wait behind three people.

Sigh.

And then they made it to the stationery store, and realized that Michael had most of the supplies that Megan needed at home. If only they’d checked before they left.

Sigh.

And when they got to the store that was their original destination, they found that Megan hadn’t called and they didn’t have what she wanted.

Sigh.

Finally they made it to the book store. Megan got fidgety and squirmy while she waited for Michael and finally asked if she could get a book too.

Sigh.

When all was said and done, they’d been out for almost two hours, much of it spent driving, and driving through rush hour traffic no less! And for almost no result.

Sigh.

When they got home, Megan had a sheepish, slightly unhappy look on her face, and said “Thank you very much, Daddy.” And she gave him a big hug and a big kiss and ran off to play or watch TV or whatever it was she was off to do.

And Michael settled back into his recliner with a sigh.

There are moments when, if we’re lucky, we catch ourselves.

As Michael settled into his favorite chair, he heard himself sigh.

And he realized that Megan had heard every one of his sighs for the past two hours.

Michael realized what the look on Megan’s face and the hug and the kiss were all about. Michael had been blaming Megan for his “hardships” and his sighs were messages to her that he was frustrated and that it was hard work and that he’d rather be napping in his recliner.

That wasn’t the message that Michael wanted to give his daughter. His children were special and important. And there would always be times when they were dependent on him to go somewhere or do something, and those times might not be convenient for him.

Michael went upstairs to Megan’s room. She was working on her homework, having gathered up the school supplies she needed.

Michael sat down on the floor next to Megan, put his arm around her, and said “Thanks for the outing, sweetie! I know I was a little tired and cranky, and that’s not your fault. I had fun.” And he gave her a kiss and he gave her a hug.

And she gave him a smile that made him happy from his toes to his cowlick.

We’re all born selfish. That doesn’t mean we can’t learn to be selfishly giving and rejoice in the happiness of others.

[Perhaps this is not just about parenthood, eh?]

I swear I heard a bell go off in my head!

I’ve always said “Everything counts.”  And also “if I’m present, whether I’m active or passive, I have an effect on what happens.”

And then this fictitious characters says “Everything has consequences.” and it all comes together for me.

Everything you do, or don’t do, has consequences.

“Right, Doc. Like if I give my wife a gift, it has consequences?”

Yup. And sometimes unexpected ones. Maybe the gift is too expensive, or not expensive enough.  Maybe you thought she’d love it, but she sees it in a way you’d never think of.  Or maybe she just loves it, and feels warmer towards you for a while.

“Okay. How about if I do nothing?”

There’s no such thing as “nothing.” Being inactive is not nothing. Being silent or withdrawn is most definitely not “nothing.”

As always, since It’s All About Me, whatever you do or don’t do, I will interpret according to my context, my view of the world at that moment. And that’s my reality.

So “nothing” might be angry or hostile or sad or frustrated or… And, as they tell us in Crucial Conversations, I will then proceed to tell myself a story about how you feel, what it means, and how it affects me.  All as a result of you saying and doing… nothing.

I’m not suggesting that you either stop doing anything, or that you do something all the time.

I’m saying that it pays to be aware that Everything has consequences.

Cory Haines' post http://is.gd/im5f reminds me of learning to type.
You never learn until you stop looking @ the kb

Followed by this:

Stop looking at the keyboard, speed goes *way* down immediately.
Then, you get faster than you were at hunt n' peck...eventually

My response was this:

@ajepst there's some profundity in that beyond just about typing,
 isn't there?

It really got me to thinking about how hard change is, because that’s what this exchange is really about: change.

In fact, my entire series of posts in this category, Coping and Communicating, is largely about change.

Learning to see my own behavior as my own, to see your behavior as being about you and your feelings, and understanding that we only interact at the external, behavioral level – that’s all about changing.

Change isn’t instant. Change takes practice and commitment. Change usually involves some failures and some frustration and exasperation, and strong temptation to give up and go back to what we know that is comfortable.

Like learning touch typing. It’s easier to look at the keyboard and take your time, if that’s what you’re used to.  In fact, I’ve seen some hunt-n-peckers who are blazingly fast. But their focus is on the keyboard, not on what they’re typing, if they have to look to find the keys.

I was fortunate, in that I was required to learn touch typing in Junior High School in NYC. I was less fortunate when it comes to personal development.  There were no requirements, and I was able to self-delude into believing that there were no consequences.

It took a long time for me to embrace the ideas that I’ve been sharing here, and longer to actually be able to put them into practice.

Just this week, I had a lengthy email exchange with a dear friend. He was very angry, frustrated with me, and hostile. He swore at me, was accusatory, told me how much he’d done for me, and so on. I was able to listen, pay attention to what I saw as being most important (our relationship, and his difficulties, and  how I might help), and respond without taking any of it personally.  It felt really good.

Like when I realized that I could, in fact, type without looking at the keys (95 wpm, btw ).

Thanks, Anne.  Thought-provoking.

Motto

It does go on and on.

It’s frequently hard to spot the Evil Genius, because they mask their insidious manipulation so well.

And their manipulations are destructive, because they violate all the principles of collaboration.

“If I can get this one to side with me against that one, then I’ll weaken the entire group so that I can achieve my ends.”

And they frequently delude themselves into thinking that they are working for the good of the group.

Frankly, I have trouble imagining someone acting in this antipattern as a facilitator. And if they were, I can’t imagine that they’d be open and honest enough to own up to it and change.

This one is hard to deal with, because they are so good at being deceitful and duplicitous.

Motto

When you go to a meeting, which occupies you: Telling? Or asking?

Like Curious George, Sherlock Holmes is interested in gathering information through asking questions. Unlike Curious George, Sherlock Holmes also collects evidence, relates what he’s learned and gathered, and drives toward conclusions.

Sherlock Holmes, the fictional character, was known for his use of deductive reasoning. Using deductive reasoning, we move from the general to the specific. We collect evidence and knowledge, and then use that evidence and knowledge to reach conclusions.

Holmes was also known for employing abductive reasoning, along with deductive reasoning. One description of abductive reasoning is “creating new rules to explain new observations”.

The facilitator’s role is to use her skills in data gathering, abduction, and deduction to guide the participants. As noted repeatedly, it is not the facilitator’s role to offer the conclusions, although that happens from time to time. It is the facilitator’s role to use these skills to guide and teach.

As is no doubt becoming clear, many of these patterns and antipatterns overlap in various ways. That is, they are not mutually exclusive.

Coming up? Dr. Moriarty, The Evil Genius!

I find myself thinking “I did X. I didn’t do Y. Debbie* will probably be upset that I did/didn’t.”

Do you do that?

When I catch myself, I stop, take a breath, and think “When’s the last time Debbie got upset about that? Hmm. Never, maybe? So why are you getting yourself all worked up about it?”

This ties back to the idea that we all live in our own heads, and interact with the world through behaviors – speech, action, results. I define results as the things I observe that can reasonably and rationally be assumed to be the result of someone’s behavior. Like coming home and finding that the bed is made. I didn’t make it, so someone must have. My wife was the only one home, so it was probably her. “Thanks for making the bed, Sweetie!”

In Crucial Conversations: Tools for Talking When Stakes are High, Patterson et al (yes, I’m going to keep referring to this work – I think it’s seminal) talk about the Stories we tell ourselves, and understanding our Paths. In the example above (I did/didn’t whatever), my Path was the thinking that led me from what I did or didn’t do to assuming something about Debbie’s feelings, with no evidence to support that.  Assumptions – you know about assumptions.  Once I recognize my Path, and I can see my Story: “Debbie will probably be upset.” What happens when I tell myself that story? I feel angry/defensive/upset/hurt. That leads to me stepping out of the shower/kitchen/living room and acting on those feelings towards Debbie.

Poor Debbie is then sitting there wondering what she might have done to lead me to feel that way, or what kind of an ass am I for treating her that way, or…

The thing is, for a moment – just a moment – whatever is in my head seems to be real. What I expect, what I think someone else has/does/will feel, and therefore my emotional, mental, and physical reactions are based on that pseudo-reality that exists only inside of my head.

The challenge, therefore, is to stop and think in STATE terms: what has actually happened. Not what I think will happen or interpret, but what has actually happened. Has Debbie actually gotten upset? Do I have evidence to expect that she will feel upset? If so, I can choose my behavior, informed by what I know of her.

But thus far, it’s all in my head. Reacting based on what is in my head is something I can take control over. Now. Right now.

* Debbie is my amazing wife of 32.5 years. She hasn’t killed me or dumped me yet, so I’m hopeful that is’ going to last.

There are many pitfalls (think of the word literally, as well as figuratively) in meeting with and talking with others. In the role of Guide/Sherpa, the facilitator’s responsibilities include steering the group around the pitfalls, helping them to avoid the known dangers and recognize the signs of upcoming trouble.

In many ways, the Guide is also a teacher, as through his behavior, the Guide teaches the group what signs to look for.

Can a participant be a Guide? Of course.

One of the key factors in participatory/collaborative events of all kinds is attitude.

Do you ask “What am I going to get out of this?” or “What am I going to put into this?”

Simple wisdoms:

• To give is to receive.
• To teach is to learn.
• Sometimes asking is telling/teaching.

There are some interesting implications to that.

For instance, all that time I spend feeling guilty for “hurting someone’s feelings” is time wasted. I’m not saying that I think we shouldn’t be aware of others’ feelings. I’m not promoting insensitivity or callousness or meanness.

What I am promoting is the idea that I am not responsible for your feelings. Your response or reaction to my behavior is just that – yours.

That said, I do believe that we can learn what behaviors lead others to feel certain ways, and choose to behave or not behave in those ways.

And yet, I can’t spend all my time thinking about how my behavior affects you. More importantly, I can’t go back and change the way you feel.

Have you ever known someone who – no matter what you did – always seemed to get upset with you? Always blamed you for what you did, didn’t do, or the way in which you did or didn’t do it?

Sadly, too many of us use our (supposed) feelings as weapons and tools to manipulate others.

• You hurt me
• You made me angry
• I only did it because I knew that you would be upset if I didn’t
• Why are you so mean?

Guilt, manipulation, control.

So what happens when I say “I’m not responsible for your feelings. How about if you take responsibility for your feelings, I take responsibility for mine, and we talk about why you’re upset about this?”

Of course, I wouldn’t say it quite so directly. I’d probably do a STATE thing.

The point is, I believe that being a mature human being, being an “adult”, means taking responsibility. I take responsibility for my feelings, for my behavior, and for being committed to my relationships. Relationships include any situation in which I have a connection with another human being, no matter how close or distant.

The reality is that we can never know.  All of us live inside our own heads.

So my premise is that I can never know what someone else is thinking, feeling, or what motivates them.

If that’s valid, then it means that time spent trying to figure it out is time wasted.

How can I use that time to find/create more value?

How about looking at the other person’s behavior, and wondering what the behavior means in terms of our relationship?

I can ask.

In Crucial Conversations, Patterson et al propose an approach to initiating a conversation they call STATE: State the Facts, Tell Your Story, Ask for Others’ Paths, Talk Tentatively, and Encourage Testing.

State the facts is pretty straightforward, if you can remember it’s about facts – not assumptions, interpretations, motivations, feelings, or anything else. Just the facts – what happened, what behaviors you observed.

Tell your story is about sharing your interpretation of the facts in the context of your relationship.  Things like “I felt like that meant you didn’t respect me” or “I took that to mean you were angry with me.”

Followed by Asking – “Is that anything like what was going on?” or “What was going on for you?”

Note that it is critical, in this approach, to avoid putting responsibility for my feelings on the other person.  I tell my Story as MY story – what I feel, what I interpreted.

Not “Why are you angry at me?’ or “You hurt my feelings.”

So rather than spending time trying to figure out what you’re feeling or thinking, I share what I know, what I’m feeling, my interpretation, and then I ask you for yours.

A conversation.  A dialogue.  A sharing, rather than conflict.

Yes, I believe that I can choose to feel angry or happy or patient or hurt. Getting to that point is a process.

Let’s start in what I think of as the worst case: “You made me angry and I’m still angry!”

Whether it’s angry or hurt or happy or sad or serene or whatever doesn’t matter. What matters is the point that (a) I put the responsibility for my feelings on you and (b) I hold onto both the feeling and the blaming/assigning.

The first change point is way out there where I am holding onto all of this: I begin by acknowledging that my feelings are my own, and that they come from within me. “You didn’t make me angry – I felt angry because your words/actions were the trigger for me to feel angry. Maybe I can choose not to feel angry now. Maybe I can see that my feelings are about me, and your words/behavior are about you, and I can let go of the anger.”

[event]..[anger]...................[still angry]...[change]


The first timeI do this, it’s just hard. I’ve been conditioned by my experience, by the people around me, and even by society to assign responsibility for my feelings – and sometimes my behavior – on others. “You made me…”

The second time I do this, just like with any learned behavior, it’s a bit easier. The next time, even easier, and earlier.

[event]..[anger]........[still angry]...[change]

As I progress, I get closer and closer to the moment when I actually feel angry.

[event]..[anger]..[change]

And as I get closer, I begin to change myself. Not just my behavior, but my feelings.

“That behavior used to make me angry, now I know that I was becoming angry, that my feelings are about me, and I don’t need to feel angry.”

Over time, I find that the anger is a short blip, as I change and realize that I don’t have to feel angry at all.

[event]..[ang..change]

My goal for myself is to evolve to the point that the anger never manifests within me. My goal is that I reach the point where I accept that your behavior is about you, my feelings and behavior are about me, and you don’t have any control over my feelings and behavior.

[event]

What happens then? You do something that I used to get angry about, and I just smile (maybe only on the inside, just in case you’re some kind of violent maniac ) because your behavior really only says something about you, not me.

My good friend Scott Bellware (blog) once asked me “Don’t you ever get flustered, Doc?” That was one of the moments when I realized that this stuff was working for me. I said “I don’t know – I guess you’ll just have to keep trying.”

How about you?

• We are all born selfish.
• For our first few years, selfishness/self-gratification drive us.
• Society teaches us to socialize our selfishness.
• At our cores, we remain selfish.

Does that sound negative or cynical? I don’t think of it that way. I think of it as an “is” – just a fact of nature.

Those of us who are unusually unselfish – focusing on the needs and wants of others – do it because it feels right/good. If you don’t want to call that “selfish”, pick the term that works for you. I’m not saying that the unselfish among us (too few, sadly) get specific, immediate gratification out of each unselfish, generous act. Rather I’m saying that the condition of being unselfish gives them pleasure and satisfaction.

Yes, there are some who do unselfish things out of commitment to something larger, obedience to something larger, or otherwise. Those actually support my belief.

So if you accept my premise that we all start out selfish, and are all fundamentall selfish, then what are the implications for human interaction?

It’s all about me.

Why am I writing this? Because I have something to say, I hope that it will influence others, and I will feel good if it does.

How about my individual interactions? What am I listening to when I talk to you? My thoughts.

What is driving my behavior when I talk to you? My beliefs about what you feel, my feelings about what you said or did, my physical condition, my mental condition…

It’s all about me.

In future posts, I’m going to explore this in terms of specific behaviors and beliefs, and how we can change them.

Did I mention that It’s All About Me?

Everything I say and do is about me. It doesn’t matter if I talk to you, at you, about you, or through you. It’s still about me.

The other side of that is that what I say and do is not about you, it’s about me.

If I say “that was ridiculous” or “you make me angry” or “you’re just stupid” (not that I would actually say any of those things, of course), what I’m really saying is “I think that was ridiculous, because it doesn’t match with my view of the world.” or “I’m feeling angry about what you just said/did, but I’d rather that you be responsible for my feelings, because I don’t like them.” or “I don’t think that was a very thoughtful/clever/reasonable thing to say, and I know that if I call you stupid you’ll feel bad. Maybe you’ll also think about what you’re going to say before you say it next time.”

Sigh.

The difference between the first and the second is this: in the first, I push everything onto you; in the second, I take ownership. I even take ownership for my own “bad” behavior. I even take ownership for my own feelings.

This is at the heart of what I believe about how I relate to the world I live in and the people in that world.

• I believe that I own and am responsible for my behavior.
• I believe that I own and am responsible for my feelings.
• I believe that I can only know you through your behavior and your words.
• I believe that the only interaction we have is through our behavior and words.
• I believe that I cannot know your feelings, your motivation, or your history (except my experience of your history).
• I believe that while hearing and understanding your motivation/feelings/history enhances my ability to have a good relationship, it is not necessary in order for me to have a healthy and happy relationship with you.

Everything else comes from these beliefs. I state them as beliefs because while they are Real and True for me, I don’t know that they are for you.

In a series of posts, I plan to explore this framework.

I give credit to Larry B, a therapist in Austin whom I saw with my wife at one time, and to the four authors of “Crucial Conversations” and “Crucial Confrontations”. Without them, these thoughts might never have penetrated my barriers to make it into my brain.