emotional intelligence

Last weekend I attended a meditation retreat, which was uneventful.  A lot of sitting on a bumpy meditation mat.  But it was a much-welcomed opportunity to slow down and reconnect with myself, particularly as I’ve been running hard the past few months.  I soldered on and struggled through several hours of sitting meditation, walking meditation and lecture on the four aspects on mindfulness.  I left thinking it was somewhat useful but probably not the most effective use of my time. A few days after the retreat, I was down in the dumps.  Thursday of last week I walked around in a sad fog, it was almost as if a large heavy cloud had descended upon my head and was raining down on me wherever I went.  I thought it was particularly odd considering nothing had really happened to cause it.  Or so I thought. Then I remembered what my friend Michelle had said when I mentioned I’d be going to the retreat – “Wow, a meditation retreat.  It will be interesting to notice what comes up for you in the week or so after.  These things are so powerful!” Were the two things connected I wondered?  Indeed they were.  And then a realization hit me like a ton of bricks.  The immense amount of change I’m currently going through but hadn’t thought to acknowledge or show myself any tenderness or compassion for.  Change is an interesting thing.  It can often creep up on a person, where we don’t even recognize we’re experiencing it.  I’ve seen this many times with my clients.  They solider on bravely and stoically, through job changes – maybe a career transition or a layoff, changes in living arrangements, changes in relationship status.  There is no escape from the universal human change curve There is a way that humans tend to experience change, and it’s called the change curve.  It often looks something like this: This model was developed in the 1960’s by Elizabeth Kubler Ross and if you look closely enough, you’ll notice that it tends to follow the grieving process.  This model underscores the journey of change every human goes on, whether we consciously realize it or not.  And when you think about this, it makes perfect sense. Change means the death of something old and the birth of something new.  And it will be stressful and chaotic,  even if the change was a wanted change, which in my situation it was. My husband decided to take a sabbatical and spend some much-needed time determining whether he wanted to make it permanent and retire early or go back to work.  He’ll still not sure.  And I’ve been super supportive considering he traveled a lot for his job and was away over half of the time we’ve been together.  The first six months were great.  A joyous time for us to have fun together and do all sorts of things that had been put on the back burner for years.  And then the reality of the […]

I was thinking about the journey of learning the other day, as I’m getting ready to start another course on leadership for a cadre of participants.  It’s an unusual course, as it allows a lot more time for unconventional mindfulness practices and self-reflection.  And I was thinking of what I would say to kick it off, as getting participants to buy-in to such unorthodox methods isn’t always an easy sell. Give me the formula In our fast-paced world we’re used to impatience, and we need the answers, and we needed them yesterday.  We want to be handed the content, the checklist, the model, or technique and then we want to know exactly how to apply it.  We have a “people problem” and we need it solved.  “Tell me what to say.  Tell me what to do.  This is a difficult person.  I need to know the exact words to say to get them to do what I want.”  But the interesting thing is life just doesn’t work that way.  Unfortunately, there’s not a model or a checklist for every possible thing that could happen and often in these types of situations we need to look within first and ask ourselves a few questions… Learning and growth is often messy Real growth and learning is often messy and can require us to lean into things that are frankly just uncomfortable.  I often mention this to potential coaching clients.  The path to growth is not an easy one, and it’s not linear.  Some days you might feel like you’ve taken two steps forward, and some days it might be a step back. Development is a messy, messy business. This reminds me of a situation many years ago when I went on sabbatical.  I talk about this in my book.  I was strung out, burnt out, and even more than that, disillusioned with life and the direction I was headed.  I was stuck in a job I never wanted and didn’t like, and I had ticked all the proverbial boxes and yet was miserably unfulfilled.  Learning and growth comes to those willing to stay open I went on sabbatical because I figured I needed some time out (which I did) and figured I’d distract myself with yoga teacher training.  In the end, the teaching of yoga was probably the least important thing I learned.  Don’t get me wrong, it was helpful.  But I learned something far greater than that, and something quite unexpected.  I started the long and arduous journey of practicing compassion for myself.  The long and arduous ride of stepping into my real power, because that’s what happens when you can accept every aspect of yourself.  And what a ride it’s been.  When I returned from my sabbatical, I sat down with my beloved boss Timothy, a boss who recognized the importance of self-discovery and gave me the space to start the journey for myself.  It took me forever to work up the courage to ask him for permission to go, […]

Recently I was helping facilitate a program on coaching for leaders, and on day 1 we spent quite a bit on time on the subject of listening.  You may wonder why, considering it’s something we do every day and most of us think we’re more than competent when it comes to this skill. Think again. “This is hard!” “I keep wanting to butt in and offer my thoughts or advice.”  I so appreciated the honesty and vulnerability from the participants.  The bottom line is that most of us are average at best when it comes to this skill.  And the problem is if you’re a leader looking to inspire and motivate your team to greatness, average just won’t cut it. This reminds me of a story from many years ago.  I was speaking with someone who was known in the organization I was working for at the time to be a great leader.  A fantastic reputation, the kind of person people sought out to join their team.  So I asked this individual, what’s your secret.  I was expecting something magnanimous, something I’d never thought of before. Some simple but not easy advice on listening The response caught me by surprise.  “I give whatever or whomever is in front of me 100% of my attention.” I was underwhelmed to say the least.  But they were really on to something.  Because the reality of how we show up is often quite different.  Let’s take the following scenario:  Someone pokes their head in your office – “Do you have a minute?”  They ask. “Sure!” you say, wanting to sound interested and helpful.  You’re the boss that cares.  You’re approachable.  People like you. They walk in and your eyes are still on the email you were in the middle of writing.  Your thoughts are still halfway consumed by it.  You’re unaware you’re doing this.  You’re halfway listening to what they’re expressing.  You’re nodding your head in agreement, eager to get back to your draft.  They leave and you carry on, you barely notice the interaction and later you forget all about it until they awkwardly remind you of what you’d agreed to in that moment.  Listening isn’t an innate thing we can take for granted.  It’s a skill.  And just like any skill there is a methodology to it and we must practice it. The levels of Listening Level 1 – Halfway listening.  In the previous example the manager I mentioned was listening at the equivalent of level 1.  They’re halfway there, they’re caught up in their head in something else.  They really didn’t have the time for the interaction but instead of setting a boundary and asking the person to please come back later, they acquiesce.  The result is they’re not present, they’re not tuned in, and the person on the receiving end of the conversation knows it.  The employee with the question leaves disengaged and slightly annoyed.  People know when they’re not being listened to.  Another version of level 1 is what […]

“You know what I’ve realized?  I’ve concluded that it’s okay to just be average.” I heard this from a client a few weeks ago.  He continued on to say, “For so long I’ve been worried about my image.  What others thought about me.  I would leave every interaction wondering whether I’d said the right thing.  Worried that I didn’t.  Worried about the interaction.  Did I dazzle them enough?  Wondering if they were seeing the smart and successful attributes in me that I wanted them to see.  I had to get them to realize I was special, a star.  Was I successful in getting the sale or the deal?  Wondering how if it hadn’t gone well, how I could later manipulate the situation to get the outcome I wanted.” (We all do a version of this, just in case you were wondering if this is unique.) “Sounds exhausting.”  I replied. “Extremely.”  He confirmed. “And now you’re realizing it’s okay to just be average.  How does that feel?”  I asked. “I feel free.” I smiled.  It reminded me of the moment when I realized it too.  And the feeling of serenity and intense peace that came with it.  I was so jazzed about the revelation that I even broke out into poetic genius and wrote a poem about it – The Joy of Being Average. It wasn’t a very good poem.  It didn’t even rhyme.  I even tried to find it to insert it into this blog because I thought that would make me look quite clever, but my filing system must be pretty crap because it’s disappeared.  But I swear I wrote it.  The Pursuit of Special is Stressful The image management aspect of trying to prove ourselves is exhausting.  I got told growing up I was smart.  I was special.  I believed it.  I so wanted it to be true.  And it was all very well intended appreciation meant to lift me up from family members, teachers, friends and colleagues.  But then I had to prove it.  Then I had to live up to it.  I spent a lot of time thinking about it.  My image, who I wanted to be, who I wanted people to think that I was.  An international woman of mystery, a courageous trailblazer who had conquered the globe and lived and worked in multiple countries, started my own successful businesses – twice.  I carefully crafted and perfected these stories, used to spend a lot of time thinking about them for when I would give a speaking engagement.  It had to be just right.  It had to dazzle the audience.  I had a whole wall in my office filled with degrees, certifications, accomplishments.  I ran out of room for them eventually and started putting them in the bathroom.  It’s not a surprise I did this.  It’s not a surprise my client did something similar.  Our context sets us up for it, and we unconsciously fall straight into the trap.  If you look on social media it’s […]

2022 was big.  Big for me at least.  Biggest revenues, biggest number of clients.  Biggest number of challenges I had ever taken on.  Explosive growth on the personal and on the professional front.  I don’t think I had ever felt as comfortable in my role as a career and leadership coach, as a leadership facilitator, a mentor coach.  The pressure was high, but I was enjoying it for the most part.  I was flying high.  I had finally arrived!  Then I Crashed and Burned And then something strange happened at the start of this year.  I started hesitating before sessions with clients.  I started second guessing my reactions to things, the words coming out of my mouth, my interactions with people.  Did I show up with a compassionate open heart???  Maybe I’m being too hard on them…Maybe that thing I just said was really stupid…What a lame question!  I’ll never be as good as a facilitator as X.  I started thinking I had lost my edge.  And then I wondered if I had ever found it to begin with. I stopped the diatribe and instead started to ponder why – why these thoughts?  Why am I torturing myself?  It reminded me of when I was a fledging yogi, at yoga teacher training in LA.  One of the opportunities of said yogic experience was being forced to listen to our esteemed guru rant on about any number of topics for hours on end.  But one rant stood out, where the guru was talking about achievement.  “Achievement is nothing.  Anyone can achieve anything they want to.  Maintaining it over time, now that’s a different story.  That’s near impossible!” Achievement versus Maintenance I think he was on to something there.  And then it dawned on me what was causing me to hesitate.  To second guess and doubt my every move.  The gnawing feeling that I didn’t have what it takes to go the distance.  The success was a fluke.  An anomaly.  And what was hiding in the wings (although very cleverly disguised) was my inner critic.  Whispering soft things in my ear like, “You should know this already.  Someone with your level of training wouldn’t be hesitating right now.  If you were emotionally intelligent you wouldn’t be over-reacting right now.” I spent this morning in tears, having a good cry.  (Crying can be extremely therapeutic if you’re so inclined to try it…) I made a list of all the things I’ve been struggling with (it was a long list in case you were wondering).  All the things I didn’t think I had gotten “right” lately.  And then I just let the tears flow.  Tears of forgiveness for all the things I haven’t navigated well over the last few months.  Things maybe I got wrong.  Or maybe I didn’t get perfect.  Because no matter how long I’ve been doing this coaching and training gig, I still: This list could go on and on by the way. And I still just allowed the tears to […]

The other day I decided to step down as an organizer for a women’s group I founded several years ago.  The decision was a long time coming and was bittersweet.  It was a fantastic experience, and yet intuitively I knew it was time to move on.  I think years ago I would have held on longer and pushed myself to muddle on.  Quite often the things we take on become a big part of our identity.  Sometimes the hardest decision to make is when to let go. The 4 Cycles of Change And this got me thinking about the cycle of change, which I often refer to as a deck of cards.  And when you think about how a game plays out, there are 4 phases: The Shuffle Phase of Change Shuffle – in this phase we’re wondering what game we want to play.  We’re thinking about the options that might be on the table.  Perhaps we’re thinking of transitioning our career or learning something new.  There’s often excitement, but there’s often a lot of fear, a lot of trepidation.  What if I make the wrong choice?  What if I make a mistake?  What if it doesn’t work out?  What if I embarrass myself?  We may find this phase to be exhilarating if we’re focused on all the possibilities and opportunities that may manifest, or our inner saboteur may be rearing its ugly head.  Or both at the same time.  We may find ourselves paralyzed by inaction as we are overwhelmed by the possibilities. The Deal Phase of Change Deal – in this phase we’ve chosen the game we wish to play, and we start to signal our intent.  We are making our first move, so to speak.  A lot of excitement again potentially, and a lot of potential for inner turmoil.  But the difference is we are now committed.  We are taking action, the ship is starting to move in a certain direction, although the path may not be completely known.  In this phase we might feel quite unsteady, some days we might feel like we’ve made great progress and other days maybe we feel we’ve gone backwards.  Our emotions will most likely be a mixed bag – there will be wins and successes as we start to make our moves, and there will be setbacks.  The choice of how we ultimately respond to these is up to us. The Play Phase of Change Play – in this phase we are all in.  We’re playing to win, to succeed, we’ve defined what success looks like.  We know the drill, we can handle the inconveniences that may come along the way.  Of the 4 cycles, this is the one that is the most stable.  The problem with the play phase is that sometimes we stay too long.  We may have a tendency to overplay our hand.  We might find ourselves eventually becoming bored, stagnant or lacking purpose or meaning in our endeavor.  Maybe we crash and burn.  But we hold […]