Drop the mic and listen.
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Drop the mic and listen.

Let’s just be honest here. Sometimes, we just wanna have fun - whatever “fun” means to you. Reading a book. Free climbing. Traveling. 

But when high achievers and performers have fun, there’s usually a part of us that starts should-ing all over ourselves. “I should be working.” “I should be focused on X, Y, Z.” If we let it get outta control, it can spiral into “I should be doing this, but I'm not, therefore 'm a horrible A, B, C.” We get lost in our feels and we can’t move forward. Or if we do, we do it begrudgingly, or angrily, or reluctantly. Not exactly inspiring material for anyone who we work with (even if we’re just a team of one.)

We’re not the kind of people who do things half-assed, so we either dive headfirst into fun, or we swing completely in the opposite direction, denying ourselves play out of shame or guilt about taking time for ourselves “at the expense” of our mission.

When we’re torn between two options on seemingly opposite sides of the negotiating table like this, it seems inevitable that everyone loses, or at the very least walks away from an outcome that’s less than optimal. 

The truth is, we can want two seemingly competing things simultaneously. For example, to play and to make a big impact.

And if we’re working on a team, chances are our teammates want these things too.

This occurred to me last week when I was sitting in the middle of a meeting with members of an organization working on the strategy for a huge project. This is my jam - I love working out how to bring ideas to life. It’s like putting together a puzzle. But I noticed that the other people around the table were not having it. They seemed distracted, like they didn’t wanna be there. To be honest, it felt like pulling teeth. The proverbial death knell sounded when the mobile devices came out. 

Cue the “should.” This “should” be simple and straightforward. This “shouldn’t” be so difficult.

I sat with my “shoulds” for a second. Why couldn’t people just get with the program and get this done?” (Could, by the way, is the near relative of “should.” It generates ideas without commitment.) We had important work to do! 

I felt like I was on my own.

Instead of going down the path I used to go down, where I jump ship and do things by myself, sacrificing myself for the greater good, I took a breath and chose to look at things in a different way. (Remember discernment from last week?)

The people around this table probably didn’t have the same reasons I had to engage in this work, but nonetheless there they were. So I took this as a sign that their presence signaled a commitment to getting things done.

All of a sudden, I went from feeling on my own to feeling like I was part of something.

Then, I thought, what is it about this situation that is inviting people to respond in this way? 

Is it what we’re talking about?

Is it how we're approaching the work?

Is it the room that we’re in?

Is it something that has nothing to do with either our work or our environment?

Instead of assuming I knew the answer, I just asked “what’s going on here?”

The fact that I didn’t start my inquiry with an accusation, or a judgment, but an open question invited the other people around the table to share. And the responses surprised me.

Some people owned up to their distraction and put the devices away. Another said they didn’t understand the direction we were going in and asked for clarity. And a different person said that we seemed stuck and suggested that take a break and reconvene once people had a few minutes to reset and reorganize their thoughts.

Rather than using my position of authority to issue some mandate from on high, I asked a question that invited others to take responsibility for their part in the situation, and to co-create a way to move forward.

After a brief pause, we were able to get back to work and complete the tasks at hand, more efficiently and with more enthusiasm than when we started.

That’s music to my ears

One of my mentors once told me that the quality of your work is determined by the quality of the questions that you ask.

And to get to those powerful questions, one of the biggest skills we have to practice is listening. A skill that’s hard for people who are used to being in positions of leadership - as advocates, as entrepreneurs - a role that by its very nature tasks you with providing vision and direction. 

You know that old adage, the more you’re talking, the less you’re listening? 

I’m not here to judge you - hello, I'd be judging myself in the process, and that's so...2000s. I’m just helping to open the aperture a bit so you can become more aware.

So, listening. Listening happens at at least two levels - what’s being said, and all the things that aren’t being said.

I trained as a violinist for many years, giving solo concerts but also participating in youth orchestra and chamber music groups. And one of things you learn as a musician in an ensemble is to listen for all the voices in the group: the bass, which determines the rhythm; the counter voices of the harmony; and of course, the melody which lies on top of that foundation.

The music doesn’t work if all those elements aren’t in sync. It just sounds like a bunch of talented musicians who are good at playing their individual parts. You can tell.

The next time you’re with your team or a group during moments of tension or high stakes, I want you to consider how you normally approach listening.

Do you listen in order to respond (which, by the way, isn’t actually listening?)

Or do you listen with a desire to understand?

Opening yourself to other perspectives may risk going in a different direction than the one you originally planned, but it may also unlock a new level of trust and credibility for you as you exercise leadership.



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