Don’t Let Your Crazy Person Ruin Your Holidays

Who irritates you the most?

advertising

Don’t overthink this . . . but who’s the first person that pops onto your radar that makes you frown instead of smile? I’m not thinking of public figures or politicians that drive you crazy (that’s another blog post). This is someone you know personally:

  • An overbearing friend.
  • An extended family member that you’ll see at a holiday meal.
  • A boss or co-worker that drains the energy out of you.
  • Your teenager who seems to be in the “pre-people” stage of development.
  • Your spouse – who changed since your married them.

Got them in mind?

OK – how do you feel when you think about them? If it’s negative, you might have given them control over your emotions. They can’t ruin your life unless you let them.

We have the ability to choose our how we respond in any situation. It just seems tougher when we see them often, like barnacles attached to the hull of an ocean liner.  We feel like there’s no escape from their craziness.

So how can you begin taking control? Here’s one simple place to start, and you can do it today:

  1. Write down the five things that bug you most about them. Seriously – write them down.
  2. Ask yourself if you can change those things. Probably not. It’s hard enough to change ourselves, much less someone else.
  3. Now write down five strengths that person has – things you’d be grateful for if the negatives weren’t there.

Those things that irritate us might be accurate. But focusing only on those things gives us a lopsided view of another person.

The best people have faults, and the worst people have strengths.

We need to see both.

stainsFocusing on the negatives is like seeing dark stains on a white sheet. When we focus on the stains, we don’t even notice the rest of the sheet.  The stains are real, but so is the sheet.

I’m not suggesting that we ignore the negatives.

But they lose some of their power when we see the whole person, not just their issues.

Will this solve the problem? Probably not.  But it can give us perspective.

Try it before they show up during holiday celebrations.

You might just feel a little more in control – and you won’t have someone else ruin your holidays.

 

How do you keep your sanity when others try to steal it from you?  Share below in comments . . .

How to Actually Change the World

When my son, Tim was about 10 years old, we went to a sporting goods store and tried on ski goggles. Each one had a different color lens.

kids-goggles

The clerk suggested that amber-colored lenses gave the best visibility in poor weather conditions, such as fog or haze. When I put them on, the entire store became brighter and sharper.

The problem was that everything was yellow.

We tried on other pairs of goggles, and found that the color of the lens impacted how we saw things. Red goggles made everything red; blue goggles made everything blue.

Tim put on blue lenses, and I put on red. I saw a jacket on a rack across the room and said, “Tim – what color is that jacket?”

“It’s blue,” he said.

“Nope,” I replied. “It’s red.”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “It is not.  It’s blue.”

Finally, we took off our goggles.

The jacket was white.

kids-gogglesWhen we looked through those lenses, we were actually seeing the jacket in those colors. We believed we were right.  We couldn’t understand why the other person didn’t see it the same way, because it was so obvious.  We could have argued all day, trying to convince each other of our position.

But the lenses didn’t change the reality.

The jacket was still white.

Sound familiar? When we have people in our lives that we disagree with, we’re often on a mission to convince them that their position is wrong, and ours is right. We use logic and passion to explain why our position makes so much sense. We do it on Facebook and politics and marriages and work relationships.

They do the same thing with us.

How many times has your mind been changed in that way? Probably none.  We want to get our point across, so we say it louder or use more logic.

But as someone once said, “If I believe I’m right, do I really want your opinion?”

We’re not caring about the other person. We’re only focused on getting them to change and agree with us.

Everybody’s talking. Nobody’s listening.

On the other hand, think about a time when someone deeply listened to you. They didn’t agree with your position, but they let you talk.  They gave you a chance to share your position instead of forcing theirs. They gave up their agenda of changing you and switched to an agenda of caring about you.

They looked through your lenses.

How did that feel?

When we listen, it builds trust.

When trust is built, relationships grow.

When relationships grow, we feel safe looking through each other’s lenses. We can still disagree, but it doesn’t divide us.

It connects us – and opens the door for genuine dialogue.

Want to make a difference in the world today?

Talk less. Listen more.

Make it your mission to love somebody, no matter what they think.

Maybe they’ll do it back.

Are You Talking to an Extrovert or an Introvert?

A Simple Test

Fifteen years ago, you didn’t hear much about introverts.

eye-contact-1

Everybody assumed that extroverts had better social skills, and that introverts were shy and needed to be healed. It seemed like they were lacking the tools to function well in society.

But in 2003, Jonathan Rauch wrote an essay for The Atlantic that went viral (before we knew what that meant).  He said that introverts make up 25% of the population, but are among the most misunderstood and aggrieved groups in America – possibly the world.

He put words to what introverts were thinking, and started the dialogue. That was followed by Marti Olsen Laney’s book The Introvert Advantage: How Quiet People Can Thrive in an Extrovert World that showed how introverts had a distinct place in society.

  • Extroverts tended to think faster, but introverts think deeper.
  • Extroverts are like solar panels – energized by group interaction. Introverts are like rechargeable batteries – they recharge when they’re alone, which allows them to function in groups.
  • Extroverts tend to think by talking. Introverts think before talking.

In 2013, Susan Cain wrote Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking. It quickly hit the bestseller list, because introverts were given a voice.  She told us that introverts had the strongest role in making a society solid, and they could make a serious difference in the world.

It’s a great book, if you haven’t read it. She’s the voice that extroverts are actually listening to, and her TED talk is a now a classic.

I’ve written a lot about introverts and extroverts in my books. As a practicing introvert, I’ve learned that we can actually celebrate the way we’re wired.  We have no desire to become extroverts, because it robs the world of our unique contribution.

Relationships get interesting when you mix and match temperaments.

  • Put two extroverts together, and the energy is nonstop.
  • Put two introverts together, and the connection runs deep.
  • Put an introvert and an extrovert together and it’s . . . well, interesting. If they don’t value the differences, they’ll be constantly frustrated with each other. If they learn to celebrate those differences, the potential exists for a world-class relationship.

So, how can you tell if someone is an introvert or an extrovert?

eye-contact-1Pick up Cain’s book or read Rauch’s article and you’ll gain a wealth of wisdom on the topic.  They’re a great overview to understanding the differences.

But here’s one simple thing you can do to test it out in a conversation.  It’s not foolproof, but it’s an interesting place to start.

The next time you’re sitting across a table from someone at Starbucks or a restaurant, observe their eye contact.

  • Extroverts usually make really good eye contact with you while they’re talking, and tend to look around more when they’re listening.
  • Introverts tend to break eye contact when they’re the ones talking, but give solid eye contact when they’re listening.

Why? Because we make eye contact when we’re comfortable. 

When an extrovert is talking, she’s in her “sweet spot.” It’s what she does best, so it’s natural to focus her attention on the other person.

When an introvert is listening, that’s her unique sweet spot for the same reason.

Like I said, it’s only a place to start. Observe someone for a while, then talk together about it.  Ask them to do the same for you.

Isnt’ that what healthy conversation is based on?

Paying attention to each other, and talking.

Sounds like a good reason to go to Starbucks . . .

How Will You Be Remembered?

I lost at Monopoly.

monopoly

And I loved it.

Last weekend, our 11-year old granddaughter, Averie spent the weekend with us. We rotate having all three grandkids, and it was her turn.

It was an amazing weekend.

We finished a jigsaw puzzle.

She and I went to Starbucks at 6:00 AM, and sat outside and just talked while the sun came up. Then we went out to breakfast.

We went to a home and garden show.

She and Grandma made a “spa day,” then worked on sewing a skirt together.

She baked. She drew.

Then we played Monopoly.

monopolyMost people either love Monopoly or hate it. In our extended family, Averie and I are the only ones who really like playing it. She got out the board, set everything up, and the three of us sat down to play.

She managed to buy every property on the cheapest row – from Mediterranean Avenue to Connecticut Avenue. She quickly put up hotels on each property.  They must have been really nice hotels, because I stayed at all of them multiple times.

I managed to buy every property on the most expensive row – from Pacific Avenue to Boardwalk. I couldn’t buy hotels because I kept spending my money to stay at Averie’s hotels.

Averie won. Grandma and I lost.

It was awesome.

Partway through the game, Averie told us about playing a video version of Monopoly with a friend. She described all the things that happened that were unique.

“When you land on “Go to jail,” a big cage slams down over you,” she said. “Then a crane picks you up and carries you across the board to the jail square.”  She described how different characters move across the virtual board, and the cool things that happen when you draw cards.

It sounded great, and I’d love to try it with her. It would be fun to play it like that and see the clever things they’ve built into the game.

I thought about that for a few minutes, and realized that I’d still rather play the board game.

  • When you’re playing a video game, you can still talk – but you’re looking at a screen.
  • When you’re playing a board game, you can still talk – but you’re looking at each other.

I realized why I love playing Monopoly so much that day – because of the dynamics that happen between the people who are playing.

Whenever Averie made a good move, she would glance up at us to see how we were reacting.

We made eye contact. We laughed.  We talked.

We were playful about our facial expressions, acting frustrated when someone hopped right over our best property.

We were being entertained by each other, not distracted by animation.

I spend my life looking at screens. I’m looking at one right now while I’m writing this.  For many of us, it’s our default setting.

Screens aren’t bad. But someday when I’m gone, I don’t want Averie’s mental image of me to be where I’m looking at a screen.

I want her to remember me looking in her eyes.

Producers of video content know exactly how to grab our attention with the right kind of graphics and movement and content. It’s not that it’s bad – but it can easily distract us from what matters most in our lives.

Goethe said, “Things which matter most must never be at the mercy of things which matter least.”

We focus on the things that we love and value the most.

Where are you looking?

How will the most important people in your life remember you?

Maybe it’s time to play Monopoly with someone who means the world to you . . .

What Cows Can Teach Us About Tough Conversations

I don’t know much about cows, except that they seem really peaceful when I see them on the side of a hill munching grass.

Cow running

Low stress. No hurry.  They’re just enjoying being cows.

But they don’t like rain.

The other day, I read about a rancher in a Midwestern rural community who has hundreds of cows. His cows roam freely over miles of pastureland, and they lead pretty comfortable lives.

At certain times of the year, cloudbursts come through on a regular basis. They only last about five minutes, and they move pretty slowly.

But the cows don’t like those mini-storms. So they try to run away from them.

The problem is, cows don’t run very fast.

The storms don’t move very fast.

So the cows run along with the storm, and they get soaked a lot longer. If they just stood still, the storm would be uncomfortable – but it would be over a lot quicker as it moved over them.  By running with the storm, they prolong the pain.

Relationships are like that.

When there’s something uncomfortable that needs to be addressed, we don’t look forward to it. We put off talking about it.  We procrastinate. We hope it’ll just get better.

The longer we put it off, the more it grows – and the worse it becomes.

By putting off the tough conversation, we prolong the discomfort.

We run with the storm.

It’s uncomfortable to deal with tough issues when they first surface, but it’s the best time to address them. If we wait, it always gets worse.

Issues that are procrastinated on are always magnified.

Cow runningAre you dreading a tough conversation? Now’s the time to make it happen.

Don’t be a cow.

Don’t run with the storm.

Deal with it now, and it you’ll get past it more quickly.

Maybe it’s time to mooooove into the conflict.

(Sorry – couldn’t resist.)

For Women Only . . .

"I Wish He Had Come with Instructions"

Over the years, we’ve bought a lot of do-it-yourself furniture. It’s become a familiar process:

Dana point
  • Open the box
  • Look for the instructions
  • Lay out all the pieces
  • Try to follow the instructions
  • Get frustrated
  • Eat cookies

The instructions read as though they were written by someone who had never seen the actual pieces. Their “step-by-step” process becomes more like “stop-by-stop.”  We think, If I stay focused, I’ll figure it out.

But it doesn’t happen.

Women – does it ever feel like the same thing is true of men? You find one you like, and the picture on the box looks promising.  But when you look inside, there are no instructions.

“That’s OK,” you think. “He comes preassembled.” You won’t need to figure out how to put the pieces together.

But it’s not just the instruction manual that’s missing. There’s also no operation manual to describe how he works:

  • You can’t find the power button.
  • He turns on all by himself at random times and turns off suddenly when you least expect it.
  • He usually seems to work OK, but there seems to be no way to control him.

Most of the time he does what you expect him to do. But there are those unexpected times when he doesn’t cooperate.  You think he’ll help with the housework, but instead he plops down on a couch and plows through a bag of Cheetos while watching people run around a field on a big screen.

That’s when you notice the warning labels on the box that you overlooked:

  • “Fragile” (he needs an ego boost to keep functioning)
  • “This end up” (if he gets upset, he doesn’t work right)
  • “Batteries not included” (he runs out of energy at the worst times)

So, what do you do when there’s no operation manual? You end up writing your own.

Most women have experienced something similar with the men in their lives. So they talk to each other, trying to figure out what their men are thinking. But without knowing exactly what’s going on in a man’s mind, it becomes an exercise in futility.  They write their own operation manual from their own female frame of reference.  It’s what they know.

That can be dangerous, because those male differences can be seen as problems to solve. I’ve seen a number of books that focus on two approaches:

  1. Fixing those differences
  2. Coping with those differences

Both of those can be unhealthy.  They ignore the fact that differences are essential for a relationship to grow and thrive.  That’s the third option:

Embrace the differences.

When I was getting ready to write my latest book, “I Wish He Had Come With Instructions: A Woman’s Guide to a Man’s Brain,” I went to the bookstore to see what had already been written.  I found two categories:

  • Books written by women about how men think
  • Books written by men giving advice to women

I decided to fill the obvious gap – a book about a man’s brain, written by someone who’s lived in there for a long time.

My wife, Diane started me in the right direction. “There are too many books written by men telling women what to do,” she said.  “Men don’t know how women think, either – so they shouldn’t be giving them advice like that.”

Bechtle_Instructions.inddSo, in this new book, I’ve chosen to simply be a tour guide. I’ll take you on a journey of a man’s brain so you know what’s going on.  I won’t tell you what to do.  I’ll just show you the scenic lookouts and the switchbacks on the trail and the toxic waste spots to avoid.  I’ll just walk with you on the journey.

It’s an understanding manual, not an instruction manual.

It was a fun book to write – and I think it might be my favorite. It’s gotten some great reviews already, and I’ve had some pretty energetic media response during interviews.

Now, it’s your chance to find out for yourself . . . and I’d love your help getting the word out, so others can benefit.

The book launched this week. The first couple of weeks is important for the success of a book, because it shows how much interest there is in the book.  The more “buzz” that takes place initially, the better the chance of it taking off.

Since you’re the people that have allowed me to have good conversations with you every week or so, I’d like to ask your help. Here are some things you can do as part of my “team:”

  • Buy a copy for yourself (you can purchase or download it here), and maybe an additional one for a friend.
  • Rank it with “stars” on Amazon. (Yeah, I look at those, too when I’m buying things.) Add a short review if you’re so inclined. That also applies to Barnes & Noble, Goodreads, etc.
  • Let people on Facebook, Twitter, etc. know that you’re reading it. Add a cat video to capture their attention.
  • Share this blog post with others and invite them to join our discussions.
  • If you have a blog, post something about it there. If you use guest posts or author interviews, I’d be happy to drop by. If you do book reviews, I’ll get you a copy to give away. We’re in this writing thing together, and I’d love to help you out.
  • Donate a copy to your church or public library. Or put it in your dentist’s office so people have an alternative from reading a copy of Reader’s Digest from 2006.

Let me know your thoughts as you read. I’d love to hear your input, especially how it helps you understand the men in your life.

And if your man reads it, that’s OK. It could make for some interesting discussions!

Thanks – just know how much I appreciate the chance to connect through this blog every couple of weeks. Soon, you’ll see a new website and a new approach – so stay tuned!

A Tale of Two Brains

Our brains are pretty amazing.

two_brains_FI

There’s a part of the brain (we’ll call it “Brain 1”) where we make decisions, solve problems and come up with creative ideas. When we have jobs, our companies are renting that portion of our brain.  It’s where we make intentional choices.

There’s another part of our brain (we’ll call it “Brain 2”) that runs pretty much on autopilot. It’s a wonderful part of our brain, because it helps us develop routines and habits that guide us through our lives.

Got a relationship problem you have to work out? Brain 1 goes into action.

Want to improve your life? Call on Brain 1.

When we read self-help books or inspirational books that motivate us to grow and become more effective, it’s Brain 1 that’s impacted.

Brain 1 helps us change. It helps us dream.  It helps us become better than we are.

Hooray for Brain 1 . . . !

two_brains_FIBrain 2 isn’t nearly as flashy. It runs quietly in the background.  But we couldn’t live without it.

Brain 1 says, “Let’s try something new.” Since it’s new, it takes intentional thought and effort.  But the more we do it, the less effort it takes.

Over time, it becomes routine.

It moved into Brain 2 – and we didn’t even realize it.

Remember the day you drove to your current job for the first time? You had to use your GPS, study every turn, figure out where to park and enter the building, and how to find the correct office.  Every step was intentional, and took your whole focus.

Now, you show up in your office and never thought about how to get there. You just did it.

That’s Brain 2.

That’s why they say it takes 21 days to develop a habit. Every habit starts in Brain 1 but eventually becomes the “new normal” in Brain 2.

Both parts are important, because they do different things. If we’re being chased by a hungry tiger, we don’t want to use Brain 1 to make a list of my five best responses, then prioritize and take action.

We just run. Brain 2 made that happen.

So, I’ve been thinking about life lately. It seems like the older we get, the more we live in Brain 2.

We’ve figured out how life works, and we get comfortable.

We find routines that keep us in our comfort zones, and follow those patterns day after day.

We find what works for us and stick with it.

We eat meals at the same time, have the same type of conversations with our families and watch the same shows every night.

We stay in Brain 2, living by default instead of design.

But we weren’t designed to live comfortable lives. We were designed to grow and change and make a difference.

Wilma was in her 80’s when I was in my 30’s. Everyone at church knew her for her energy and spunk.  Whenever she saw me, she wanted to know if I was still growing.

“What are you reading right now?” she would ask, sneaking up behind me and slapping me on the shoulder. No matter what I answered, she would tell me the best book she had read recently, and why it was so good.

“You said you were going to get your doctorate,” she would say. “Have you started?  Why not?”

“Are you treating your wife well? So, what have you done for her lately?”

Wilma was growing. She was involved.

She was living from Brain 1.

Here’s a simple question for today: Are you living your life from the comfort of Brain 2, or the vision of Brain 1?

There’s nothing wrong with Brain 2. We need those comfort zones as a place to rest and recover.  It’s the “home base” where we build the foundation for our life journey. It’s where we rebuild our courage and strength.

But it’s our launching pad, not our landing pad.

So, how are you going to stretch today? How will you use Brain 1 to learn or grow or make a difference?

It’s worth some intentional thought.

Why Negative is Stronger than Positive

(and what to do about it)

A couple of weeks ago, I was in my surgeon’s office for my post-op visit (it’s been a month since I went under the knife).

happiness-1

After hearing the “all clear” pathology report and getting staples out, I asked the good doctor a question:

“So, do you ever take it for granted that when you perform surgery on someone, and it goes well – you get the cancer out – that you’re actually saving people’s lives?”

Long pause.

“That’s a really kind question – and a good reminder,” he said. “Yes, I guess I do take it for granted.  Usually, I’m just thinking about how amazing it is that I get to do this job that I love so much, and people actually pay me to do it.”

“I know,” I said. “I got your bill.”

He continued: “But you know, what really sticks with me are the ones that don’t go well, and I know the patient isn’t going to make it. Those keep me up at night.”

Why is it that we focus so easily on the negative, but we take the positive for granted?

When I was researching for my latest upcoming book, I ran across some interesting data from neuroscience:

Our brains are wired toward the negative, not the positive. We’re naturally drawn to it.  Avoiding pain is a stronger motivator than seeking pleasure.

Someone said, “The brain is like Velcro for negative experiences, but Teflon for positive ones.”

Here’s an example:

Whenever I’ve taught seminars, participants fill out an evaluation form at the end of the day. I might have 50 people in a room, and 49 of them give scores of “9” or “10.”

One person marks a score of “4.”

I’m depressed. I lay awake thinking, “I got a 4.  Why did I get a 4?  I need a different career.  I’m not cut out for this.”

One out of 49, but my whole focus goes there.

Here’s what happens inside our brains:

  • When we hear bad news, it takes 3-4 seconds for it to go into our long-term memory.
  • When we hear good news, it takes 12 seconds before it drops into our long-term memory. If we get distracted before the 12 seconds is up, it doesn’t go in at all.

happiness-1What’s it all mean?

If we’re not intentional about focusing on the good things in our lives, we’ll automatically focus on the bad things.

Think back over the last 24 hours. Has your mind been filled with the things that are going wrong in your world?  Or the things that are going right?

Now look at the upcoming 24 hours. What if you were intentional about focusing on the positive things – instead of taking them for granted?  You wouldn’t be ignoring the negatives – just keeping them in balance.

There’s an old hymn that says, “Count your blessings – name them one by one.”

Grab a sheet of paper or pull up a new note on your tablet. Start listing the positives that are present in your life.  Make it your goal to fill the sheet before the end of the day.

Your brain will fight you on this. But you don’t have to give in.

Don’t take your blessings for granted.

We can change our focus – 12 seconds at a time.

 

What’s positive in your life?  Share in comments (below) . . .

Don’t Forget to Remember

When Diane and I first got married, we didn’t have a lot of money. We lived in a tiny house in Redondo Beach, California.

Cans

Tiny, meaning 450 square feet. That was it.  It’s what we could afford.

It was a fixer-upper, and we saved rent by agreeing to do some repairs and restoration ourselves. We worked together to put in a lawn, paint the house and install flower beds and plants.

It was a lot of work, but we didn’t care. We were in L-O-V-E, and we did it together.

The house was only a few blocks from the beach, so we’d often walk down there in the evenings. It didn’t cost anything, and we could just hold hands and talk.  We couldn’t afford to go to the movies or out to dinner often – but that was OK.

We were just grateful to be together.

CansFor our wedding, someone had given us several large, heavy boxes for a gift. When we opened them, they were filled with dozens of cans of food – but someone had taken all the labels off.  “What a clever gift,” we said.  We laughed because it was so random.

We tucked those cans away in the top shelf of our kitchen cupboard, wondering what we would ever do with them. At least up there, they were out of the way.

But in that first year or so of marriage, there were more than a few times when we ran out of money and the refrigerator was empty. So we would select three cans, shaking them to guess what was inside.  We would set them on the table with a can opener, and say grace over them – thanking God for our meal.

Then we opened them.

It wasn’t unusual to have a meal of canned peaches, beans and olives.

I don’t think we would ever go to a restaurant and order that combination. But we always remember those meals – not because of the randomness of the food, but because of the gratefulness we felt for provision.  It was there when we needed it, and we never took it for granted.

Next week, we’ll celebrate our 39th wedding anniversary.  There have been ups and downs in every area of life – but we’ve worked hard to stay grateful.

All of the cans in our cupboards have labels today. When we plan a meal, we know exactly what’s coming.  There’s something comforting about that.

But it’s not nearly as exciting.     

At the beginning of a relationship, most people have more time than stuff.

Later in a relationship, most people have more stuff than time.

Stuff isn’t bad. But it’s easy to take it for granted when we have a lot of it.

Time is good, because it’s where we live. But it’s easy to let time get crowded out by stuff.

Maybe it’s good to think back to the beginning.

  • What was your relationship like when you had more time than stuff?
  • How is it different now?
  • What choices could you make to find more time in your relationship?
  • How can you become as grateful for the present as you were for the past?

Now, there’s a dinner topic . . .

Why They Don’t Have Books at the Getty

I tried to like the Getty. I really did.

Getty-Museum

The Getty Museum is a world-famous art museum perched high above the 405 Freeway in Los Angeles. It contains priceless paintings and sculptures, and people come from all over the world to visit.

You can’t live in Los Angeles very long before someone says, “Have you been to the Getty?”

I have good friends who can’t get enough of that type of art. Debra is a major patron of the art community in Phoenix.  Jenni tells of using high-quality photo books of those masterpieces with her kids, then sharing their excitement when they visit a museum to see them in person.  Another friend (unnamed) sneaks away from work just to visit art museums.

“You just have to see it,” people would say.

It’s not that I don’t like art museums. I just don’t have an emotional response to what I see. I’ve even stood in the Sistine Chapel in Rome.  I saw people in tears because they were so moved.

I was impressed at being there, but I wasn’t moved.

And I felt guilty because of it.

I’ve always wanted to appreciate fine art. But I’ve never felt the emotion that so many people describe.

So when my sister and her husband were visiting, they wanted to visit the Getty. I had heard that the building cost a billion dollars to build, so I wanted to see what made it so valuable.

We drove up there on a Saturday. Once inside, she led the charge.  We followed her from gallery to gallery, trying to keep up and listening to her commentary on everything she saw.  The further we went, the more excited she became.

Bless her heart – it was so much fun to watch her excitement.

But I didn’t share it.

We had a great day being together, and I learned a ton from her. But I still felt guilty because I seemed to be missing the “masterpiece” gene.  I resigned myself to living a life devoid of culture.

———————

A few weeks later, a large box was delivered to my door. I was expecting it, because it comes every year.

Inside were a couple dozen new books.

For the past 25 years or so, I’ve been one of the judges for the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association’s Christian Book Awards. It’s the most prestigious award given to the top books in that category, and I’ve been privileged to participate.  Every year they send me a shipment, and I have the chance to vote on the best of the best.

So I lined them up on a shelf. Each morning, I’d settle in as the sun was rising with a cup of coffee – and read a couple of chapters.

What a great way to start the day!

Book - FoundOn my first day of reading, I picked up a book called Found: A Story of Questions, Grace & Everyday Prayer
from an author I didn’t recognize named Micha Boyett.  I turned to the back cover for context:

“. . . she’s passionate about monasticism and ancient Christian spiritual practices and how they inform the contemporary life of faith . . .”

I wasn’t hopeful, and it sounded stuffy. I took another sip of coffee and started reading.

That’s when it happened: her writing caught my heart.

Just reading her first few paragraphs sucked me into her world. Somehow, I wasn’t reading any more.  I was there.

I know that different people are impacted by different books at different times. Maybe that was my time.  But I felt the sheer joy of reading words that had been so well-crafted.

Was it the best book ever written? Of course not.  But on that day (and the days that followed), Micha took my on a journey of her life as a wife and mom in San Francisco. She made me feel the fog and taste the bagels and hear the swings creaking on the public playground.  She just put the words together in a way that captured my emotions throughout the book.

From my perspective, I was reading . . . a masterpiece.

I was having the emotional experience that eluded me at the Getty. It came as ink on paper rather than oil on canvas, but it was still the expression of an artist.

Great painters and great writers both use their tools of expression, and they both touch the heart.

They both create masterpieces.

Here’s what I discovered: Books are my Getty.

I have art-loving friends who can’t get excited about books. I have author friends who can’t get excited about paintings.

It’s OK.

We’re both impacted by a masterpiece.

I can’t wait to take my sister to a bookstore for the day . . .

 

What’s your Getty?  Share in the comments (below) . . .

Off the Road Again

I miss writing.

large

There was a time when I used to say, “I don’t like writing – I just like having written.” The process was tedious, but I enjoyed seeing my words in print.

That’s changed. It’s probably because I’ve taken a break, and I miss moving words around to express something.  I’ve missed writing these posts, and especially the interaction with you – my readers.  It’s like not seeing good friends for a while.

The break wasn’t by design. It started with a wake-up call last September that involved an ambulance ride while on a business trip.  I didn’t see the effect that years of travel was having on my body.

But it was there, and it was real.

So the past nine months have been a “do-over” (as Jon Acuff would say). I’ve taught people for years how to live a balanced life, but realized that I needed to pay attention to my own precarious position on the high-wire as well.

That meant looking at everything I was doing – my job, my schedule, my exercise, my choices – everything. It meant starting from scratch and rebuilding.

Finally, I’m starting to practice what I teach. It’s certainly not perfect, but I’ve made some major changes.  I’m eating differently.  I’m exercising consistently.  I’m sleeping more.  I’m keeping the little stuff little, and focusing on the few things that matter most.

And I’m coming off the road.

After 28 years of travel and 3000+ days standing in front of corporate audiences, I’ve changed jobs. I’m working from a home office, coaching those people who are still training within their companies.  I’m taking my years of experience and helping them make an impact within their organizations.

My travel each day is about 50 feet.

Which means I have quiet early mornings to watch the sun rise while I sip java in a ceramic mug – instead of chugging out of a paper cup on an LA freeway. And evenings to read and talk and relax instead of mapping out logistics for the next day’s commute.

And it means I’ll have time to write.

That’s become one of my favorite early morning activities – crafting words while the world around me is still in their jammies.

This new job itself is more intense than anything I’ve done – but it has a beginning and an end each day. I have to fight to keep to keep that balance.  But setting boundaries is becoming a small price to pay for quality of life.

largeWhat will that writing look like? I’m not sure.  But it does mean I’m going to start connecting with you again.

I’ll probably do some magazine articles, and I’ll start thinking about another book. (My newest will be in bookstores on August 6.  I finished that one shortly before my ambulance ride.)  I’ll also be building more of an online platform, since I’m not standing in front of live audiences as much.

If you’d like to come along for the ride, I’d love to have you on the journey.

So, get your coffee. I’ll get mine.

Let’s slow down and just talk.

It might just save you an ambulance ride.

 

 

What We See in the Darkest Night

It’s easy to take earthquakes for granted when you live in California.

Galaxy

If I’m sitting quietly in my home office, I’ll feel a little jolt once or twice a week. It catches my attention, but I go right back to what I was doing.  Sometimes it’s big enough to rattle the windows, and I’m more engaged.

But when a big one hits, it changes everything.

Most people were asleep at 4:31 AM on January 17, 1994. That’s when the “big one” hit in Northridge, California.  It lasted 20 seconds, and nobody slept through it.

I know I didn’t.

Freeways collapsed. Buildings crumbled. Almost 60 people died.  Hundreds were injured. Adrenaline flowed like a river.

And then the lights went out.

Massive power outages took place throughout Los Angeles. In the predawn hours, major sections of the city were powerless. People scrambled in the confusion and rubble, trying to find flashlights and candles.

Outside, there were no streetlights, no signals, no neon signs.

It was just . . . dark.

Later that day when the sun rose and the power gradually returned, the Griffith Park Observatory began receiving dozens of calls from people who had seen a huge, silver cloud floating over the city. Some feared it was related to aliens, while most simply wondered if the earthquake had somehow impacted the atmosphere.  As the sun rose, the cloud dissipated.

After hearing similar descriptions from callers, the observatory staff finally realized what the cloud was – what the people had actually seen.

It was the Milky Way.

GalaxyPeople who had lived in the distraction of city lights for decades saw stars and constellations they had never seen before. Those stars had always been there, but the lights overpowered their view of the galaxies.

The darker the night, the easier it is to see the stars.

As a child, our family used to drive across the Arizona desert in the middle of night to escape the heat. I would lay in the back of our station wagon and look at the stars out the back window.  I remember wondering why there were so many more stars in the desert than in the city.

The stars are always there. But when the lights are bright, we can live under them for years and never notice them.  It takes our world being shaken and the lights going out for us to really see.

For me, it’s a reminder that we’re surrounded by wonder. But our lives are so filled with trivia and schedules and shiny objects that we forget that it exists.

Nobody likes dark times in life. But if you’re in one, look up.

Some things can only be seen in the darkest of nights.

That’s where we see the wonder.

Take a break.

Take a breath.

Get perspective. Listen to someone deeply.  Remember the things that matter most.  Tell someone you care.

Look for the silver cloud.

Don’t Miss the “Real Thing”

Hbowl

I must have been distracted.

So were 2500 other people.

The guest speaker was great, and the sermon was stimulating. People were engaged, taking notes and listening carefully.

But as I glanced around the room, I noticed that nobody was looking at the speaker. They were looking above his head – at the high-definition images of him speaking on the screens hung from ceiling.

They’re big screens – really big. The idea is that people in the back can’t really see the facial expressions of the speaker, so putting him on the screen makes it easier for them to see.

I think that’s a valuable addition. It makes you feel closer to the action.

But as I looked around the room, I realized how strange it was. Here was a well-known speaker that people couldn’t wait to hear.  But when he was on the platform, nobody was watching him.  We were watching the screen.

We were right in the room with him, and choosing the video version while the “real thing” was right in front of us.

HbowlIt happens at concerts, too. We’ve gone to outdoor concerts at the Hollywood Bowl, where we saw some really famous artists perform. We fought traffic and parking and crowds to be there, and paid a lot of money to sit on uncomfortable benches – just to catch a tiny glimpse of the artist.  Then we spent the whole evening watching them on the big screen.

I remember thinking, “I could watch this at home on TV.”

I could. And I’d have a much better view than I would in an arena.

But there’s something about being there, knowing we’re breathing the same air as someone we admire. That’s why we go.  We want to be there with them.

We went to a musical in Hollywood years ago (“Beauty and the Beast”) with our good friend, Sheri. We got dressed up, went out to dinner first, and then looked for our seats in the theater.

They were in the back row. Literally.  If we put our heads back, they would hit the back wall.

That wasn’t unusual, because we’ve often bought the “cheap seats” in order to be able to afford the concert. But it was before the days of massive screens, so we enjoyed it from a distance.

Afterwards, we were talking with Sheri about it. “Sorry the seats were so far back,” we said.  “We didn’t realize how far back they were.”

“That’s OK,” she said. “We still had a great time.”

I said, “Where do you usually get seats when you go to concerts?”

“The front row,” she said. “I don’t go that often.  But when I do, I save up and get seats right up front.  I want to experience the artist up close and personal.”

We’ve never been in the front row at a concert. But it made sense.  If you want to see an artist live, you lose something if you’re just watching on a screen.

So I’ve decided that I have two viable options for live events:

  1. I can watch the high-definition images on the screen, but make sure I’m intentional about focusing part of my time on the live person on the stage.
  2. I can get there early and sit in the front row. That way, I won’t need the screens.

It’s probably not realistic to do the second option all the time. But I need to make it happen occasionally.

In the meantime, I don’t want the virtual to crowd out the visual. I want to be fully present.

I have enough screens in my life . . . so when I have an option, I want the real instead of the reflection.

So, I’m going to sit in the front row in church sometime. Not all the time, but occasionally.  It’s not a natural place for an introvert, but it’s an experience worth stretching for.

And I want to pick a concert that we really want to attend, and plan and save far enough ahead so we can be up front.

If we’re close enough to the front that we can see facial expressions, we won’t be interested in watching the screens.

Maybe it’s time to move up front.

 

When you’re a live event, do you find yourself watching the artist or the screen? Comment below . . .

“And the Winner is . . . “

Wow.

resize

I didn’t expect that many people to respond.

But I discovered that a lot of people are passionate about the books they read, and they want to share that passion with others.

Three weeks ago, I asked for your help. I read a ton of nonfiction books each year, but realized that I wasn’t applying a lot of it.  They were interesting, but it wasn’t changing my life.  So I decided to pick one book and read it twelve times – and I asked for your suggestions.

I got a few comments on the blog itself, a few through Twitter or Facebook, but most came through email or personal conversations. That tells me that I have a lot of introverts in my tribe who have great ideas, but prefer not to put them out there for the whole world to see.  That’s OK – I’m one of those.  I rarely leave comments, preferring to have a direct conversation.

I observed something interesting during this process:

I have two groups of readers: those who are more “”business-oriented, and those who are more “faith-oriented.” I started the blog originally as a way of staying in touch with people who have attended my seminars (which are usually in business settings) or read my books.  That’s the majority.  So we’re mostly talking about living an intentional life, no matter what the setting.

There are others who know me personally, and understand that my faith is my worldview that forms the foundation of my life. They can read between the lines and see the spiritual overtones.

Because of my primary audience, my purpose is to converse – not to convert. A blog is an opportunity to have real conversations with real people.

I believe that truth is truth, no matter where it comes from. That’s why I read widely, including both faith-based books and others on a variety of topics.

I suggest you do the same. Rich dialogue only comes when we converse with people who have different perspectives.  We don’t have to agree with everyone.  But as one person said, “If two people agree on everything, one of them is unnecessary.”

So, I received a ton of recommendations from both perspectives. I wish I had room to list them all, but here are a few that stood out (I’ve added Amazon links if you want to see the descriptions):

The Bible was the most suggested book. I read through that one last year.  Great choice.  I know the author.  Highly recommended.

The Compound Effect (Darren Hardy) was also mentioned often. I had already been considering that one, because I’ve read it in the past and was impacted by its message – the choices we make have a compounding effect over time, and direct the entire course of our life.  A very practical choice from Hardy, the former publisher of Success Magazine.

Rising Strong was mentioned several times. Brene Brown wrote the bestselling Daring Greatly, and her TED talk is in the top 10 based on millions of views.  Watch her talk to see if it might be a fit.

I found it interesting that most of the secular books recommended had more to do with character than performance – an inside-out approach to living. Those included Credibility by Kouzes, Mindset by Carol Dweck, and The Speed of Trust by Stephen M.R. Covey.

The top suggestions for faith-based books included Left to Tell by Imaculee Ilibiganza (based on the Rwandan Holocaust), The Purpose-Driven Life by Rick Warren, Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis (I love C.S. Lewis) and the biblical book of Proverbs (a great choice, because it has 31 chapters – one for each day of the month).

An interesting crossover choice was Chris Lowney’s Heroic Leadership: Best Practices from a 450-Year Old Company that Changed the World (business principles learned from the Jesuits).

So, which one did I pick?

I mentioned my friend Craig in the earlier blog, and how he reads about 60 books a year. I asked him if he could share his top recommendations.

His response gave me a new perspective on recommending books. He said that when someone recommends a book, it’s because the book spoke to them in their current situation so strongly that it had an emotional impact on them.  It touched them, and they want other people to have that same experience.

But everyone is at a different place. A book that impacts me deeply might be great, but it won’t have the same effect on you if you’re at a different place.  Maybe in six months, it will apply.  But we’re all looking for help with our current situation.

The book recommendations of others narrows the field for us. Then we need to pick what’s appropriate from there.

So I’ve actually made a list of all of your recommendations, and will probably be reading through all of them over time. I’m grateful to have your input, and that you took the time to make those suggestions.  That’ll be the basis for my reading list.

51i0QG0W8KL__SX323_BO1,204,203,200_The one book I’ve landed on for myself for this year, based on where I am in my life, is Primary Greatness: The 12 Levers of Success by the late Stephen R. Covey.

Here’s why I picked it:

Dr. Covey wrote The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People (which is one of the courses I teach in various organizations). After his death, his family and colleagues found some of his original writings and notes that he used in preparation for writing the 7 Habits back in the mid-80’s, but they were never published.  So they collected his thoughts and put them together in this book.

Dr. Covey believed that there were only two ways to live: a life of primary greatness or a life of secondary greatness. The rewards of primary greatness – integrity, responsibility and meaningful contribution – far outweigh the superficial rewards of secondary greatness – money, popularity, and the self-absorbed, pleasure-ridden life that some people consider “success.”

Seems like that would be some interesting food for thought – and discussion. It’s that “inside-out” approach to living a life of integrity.

I’ll spend time on it this year, and write occasionally about what I’m learning. Will it be an awesome read? I don’t know, but I’m going to give it a shot.  You can join me if you’d like – or just stay tuned for insights over the rest of the year.  (I picked up the hardback edition so I could focus differently than other books.)

So, thanks for your help. If you pick a book to focus on this year, I’d love to know what it is – and what you learn during the process.  I so appreciate the conversations we’re able to have, and what I learn from you.

Let’s get started!

Do you have a book you’re going to focus on this year?  Share your choice in the comments below . . .


Does “New Years” Always Have to be “Happy?”

silhouettes and clouds

Today, four people said “Happy New Year” to me.

It’s mostly a casual greeting, like saying, “How are you?” Nobody expects a serious answer, but it’s a way of opening a conversation.  It’s friendly, and it’s nice.

But why “Happy?” Is that the ultimate goal for this year . . . that it’s a chance to be happy and feel good?  Does it imply that last year was unhappy, and this is my opportunity for a do-over?

silhouettes and cloudsI don’t think it’s that deep. But I’ve wondered if there’s a better word – something that really expresses what I’d like the year to be like.

I’ve heard people say “I wish you a prosperous New Year.” Hmmm . . . that might be nice.

What about a “Peaceful New Year?”

Maybe an “Adventurous New Year?”

I kind of like “Interesting” myself.

Bottom line: When we wish someone a Happy New Year, we’re really saying, “No matter what last year was like for you, I hope this new one gives you what you need to handle what the year brings you.”

It’s not really “happy.” It goes beyond that.

What about Grace-filled?

I looked up “grace” in the dictionary. One definition said, “Mercy; reprieve; favor shown in granting a delay or immunity.”

I have friends with cancer. I wish them a year of grace . . . reprieve . . . immunity.

I know people whose relationships are dissolving. I wish them a year of mercy.

Others are in financial struggle and can’t see a way out. Others struggle with depression or addiction.  Others are gripped with fear when they simply watch the news.

I want the best for them. I want them to have a year of support and reprieve and mercy and love and miracles and breathing room and refreshment.

I want them to have hope. And grace.

I think it’s OK to say “Happy New Year.” But I hope we’re a little more intentional about the meaning.  It means we care about someone, and want the best for them.

It means we’re wishing them a year of grace.

What word would you pick instead of “Happy?”

Help Me Read Less This Year

Book pile

I wish I could get paid to read.

That would be like getting paid to eat ice cream.

I heard recently that the average person reads less than two books a year. I have trouble wrapping my head around that statistic, because I love to read so much.  Two-book-per-year people make New Year’s resolutions like, “I need to read more this year.”  And that’s a wonderful resolution.

I’m not one of those people. Neither is Craig.

Craig shares my love of books. In the next few days, I’ll be receiving an email spreadsheet from him with his annual reading list summary for last year.  It will be broken down by:

  • Monthly pages read
  • Annual total pages read
  • Titles
  • Personal rankings
  • Total number of books read
  • Fiction vs. nonfiction
  • DNF (Did not finish)
  • Top 10 books of the year

. . . and about ten other categories. Last year he read around 60 books.  I read about 40. (If you’re a two-book-per-year reader, you probably have a therapist in mind for us.)

I can’t wait to see his results. I always look forward to his list, and his top picks from last year often end up on my shelf for this year.  His list inspires me to read more.

Book pileThis year, I want to read less.

And I need your help.

Here’s the thing. I read mostly nonfiction, and love the insights I get.  But I find myself reading a lot, but not applying much.  I stuff my mind with all these great ideas that I want to try, and then feel guilty because I’m not doing all these great things I need to do.

This year, I’ll still read quite a few books – both fiction and nonfiction. I enjoy the process, and don’t want to give that up.

But I want to decide on one significant book to focus on.

Just one.

And read it 12 times. Once per month.

So I need your suggestions.

If you were to suggest one book that would be worth spending an entire year on, what would it be?

I’m open to any kind of topic. It could be about productivity, relationships, faith, communication, business – it’s up to you.  I want to keep it in the nonfiction category for the purpose of the experiment.  I’ll track the insights, and implement the things I’m learning.

That’s my experiment for this year. I want to immerse myself in one book until it sticks.

I’ll collect your ideas for the next couple of weeks. Then, I’ll make the final decision.  I’ll let you know what it is, in case you’d like to join me.  I’ll write about what I’m learning occasionally, and we can chat together about it.

Kind of a mini-book club without the croissants or chairs in a circle.

You might not choose the same book to focus on that I do. That’s OK, because we’re all at different places in our lives.  We each need to choose the book that’s most relevant at the moment.  It will be interesting to see what others suggest.

You can share your ideas in the comments section – or by email – or text or skywriting or personal conversation or Facebook or Twitter (and I’m just getting on Instagram in the next few days). Whatever channel we usually use to connect.  (Craig – we need to do this over breakfast.)

I’ve always appreciated the conversation we’ve been able to have. So in advance, thanks. Can’t wait to hear your suggestions!

What one book would you recommend to spend an entire year focusing on? Add your comments below . . .

The World’s Quietest Book Launch

Today, I’m breaking all the rules.

IMG_2865

I’m launching my new book without fanfare. No parades, no book tours, no carefully-orchestrated campaigns.

I’m ignoring the many promotions I receive about how to make your book a New York Times bestseller by following someone’s program.

It’s a quiet launch, not a noisy one.

And I’m doing it on purpose.

Writers are often introverts, but they’re told they need to become extroverts to get the message out. If you don’t have a big launch, nobody will notice.

There are a ton of books being released each day that are clamoring for attention in the marketplace, and they’re all shouting, “Hey! Buy me! Buy me!” Success comes to the one who yells the loudest, who makes their voice heard above the others.

It’s true. I’m taking a risk.

But this time, I’m choosing to announce this quietly. I’m letting you know in a casual conversation at Starbucks, not in a stadium with a Jumbotron screen.

That’s the relationship we have. It’s a real one, connecting quietly through words.

I want to respect that.

There’s a reason for this quiet launch – the title of the book.

bookToday, my newest book is available in bookstores and online retailers like Amazon. It’s called You Can’t Text a Tough Conversation: #RealCommunicationNeeded. It grew out of seeing people talking less and texting more, and seeing what the shift to electronic communication has done to our relationships.

I love technology. I’m not villainizing it. But technology is a tool. A tool is something we use to do a job better than we can do it without the tool.

Real relationships need real communication. Technology is a great tool when it enhances our communication, but dangerous when it replaces it.

This book is written to get our relationships back, and protect them in the future.

It’s about restoring human moments – face-to-face, eyeball-to-eyeball, voice-to-voice. It’s about talking first instead of texting.

It’s about how to control our technology instead of being controlled by it.

So . . . it makes sense to launch a book like that through real conversation rather than a commercial campaign.

Let’s do this. Ready?

The Official Book Launch

  1. My new book comes out today. I think you’ll find it helpful.
  2. Please buy a copy and decide for yourself. You can click the following link to find it on Amazon: You Can’t Text a Tough Conversation: #RealCommunicationNeeded (it’s also commonly found in grocery stores, airport bookstores, etc.)
  3. Read it.
  4. If you like it, take someone to Starbucks and tell them about it. Or buy them a copy. If you don’t like it, let me know – I’ll refund your money. Seriously.
  5. Share this launch on Facebook or other places where you hang out with friends – so others can experience a quiet launch. Maybe they’ll find it refreshing.
  6. Review the book on your personal blog or Amazon. Be honest about it – people need to know what they’re getting.

That’s it.

I might not sell as many books this way, but that’s OK for this one. I’d rather have the word spread through conversations than coercion.

I might do a traditional launch in the future. My next book comes out next summer on August 1, and I might have trumpets and prizes and airplanes carrying banners (the topic lends itself to that).

But for now, enjoy your day. Get some coffee and curl up with a good book for a while.

Enjoy the quiet.

———————————————————————————

“What a fantastic book!  Mike Bechtle is not only entertaining and compelling, his advice is rock-solid and practical.  Anyone who is serious about having healthy relationships – at work or on the home-front – will love this book. Don’t miss out on Mike’s message.”
 
Drs. Les & Leslie Parrott
Authors of Saving Your Marriage Before It Starts

 

Why Nobody Steals Hotel Artwork

I’m sitting in a hotel room in Lancaster, California. It’s a simple room with the basics: a bed, a desk, a TV, and a microwave.

Hotel art

And there’s a painting on the wall. It’s pretty big, and has an even bigger gold frame. I’m sure it’s just a print, and there’s a piece of glass covering it.

Now, I’m not an expert on art. But I think good art is supposed to capture your emotions. It catches your eye when you see it, and you interact with the painting in an emotional way.

In other words, it moves you.

I’m not being moved.

Hotel artIt’s colorful, but I’m not sure what it represents. I’m not driven to pull it off the wall and sneak it into my car.

That got me thinking. I don’t know how many nights I’ve spent in hotel rooms in my life, but I’m guessing it’s over 1000. Fancy hotels, cheap hotels, and a bunch in-between. In all those nights, I can’t think of a time when I’ve noticed a painting.

I’m sure there was a painting in almost every room. But I didn’t notice. They didn’t grab me.

But they didn’t irritate me, either.

I wonder if the hotels buy those paintings in bulk, and use them to decorate their rooms to set the tone and make them feel “homey.” By hanging nondescript art, nobody is offended – and they don’t have to worry about people stealing it.

I wonder if the original artist feels bad knowing that his/her artwork is so bland that nobody would notice it or steal it. (But then again, if the artist gets a little commission for every print that’s purchased, having it in thousands of hotels might ease the pain a bit.)

If I compare hotel art to a masterpiece in an art museum, it will always look cheap. But if the purpose is to set a tone for the room, it does its job well.

It makes the room feel comfortable. If that’s the purpose, it’s the perfect painting for the wall.

It’s a “masterpiece” in fulfilling its purpose.

Can you feel the life lesson coming? Here it is:

You’re unique.

There’s nobody else like you.

There’s a purpose for your life that nobody else can fulfill.

If you fulfill that purpose, your life is a masterpiece.

If you compare your life with somebody else’s masterpiece, you’re trying to fulfill their purpose, not yours. When that happens, you’ll probably feel like cheap hotel art.

Don’t be somebody else. It robs the world of your uniqueness.

Be yourself. Make your own unique contribution. Quit comparing yourself to others.

Be the best “you” you can be, and the world will see a work of art.

Be a masterpiece today.

 

Virtual Coffee

friends

Writing can be a lonely task. You do it by yourself, because you have to think.

Speaking is anything but lonely. But it’s short-lived. You stand in front of a group and interact with them for 8 hours, but they leave at the end and you’re alone again.

I make my living doing both.

It’s not a bad gig for an introvert.

friendsI love the speaking days – especially the chance to connect with people one-on-one during breaks. But constant interaction can be draining, and I’m usually pretty drained by the end of the day. I recharge on my drive home – alone.

On writing days, I love the chance to think and process ideas. I often don’t know what I think about something until I write about it. My ideas take shape during the writing process. (That’s happening as I write this; I don’t know how it’s going to end yet. I almost always get a surprise ending!)

But I’ve also learned that I need human interaction on writing days. If I don’t have it, I can get stuck in my own thoughts or get too introspective.

Going out for coffee with a friend is probably my favorite thing to do.

And maybe the most important.

When I have coffee with a friend, it’s a chance to get outside my head. I get to explore their life and their thoughts and their passion and their ideas. I always learn things I didn’t know before, and get to feel like we’re sharing life together.

When I come home and start writing again, all my thoughts are different. Interacting with a friend hits a “reset” button in my brain, even though we weren’t talking about the subject I’m writing about.

We were made to do life with other people.

We communicate through email, social media and even phone calls, and it can be a great way to connect. But something different happens when we’re face-to-face, relaxing over a cup or a meal: We have what Dr. Edward Hallowell calls a “human moment.”

Human moments refresh us. They restore us. They remind us that we’re . . . well, human.

If you’re one of the people I have coffee or a meal with, you need to know how much it means to me. Doing life with you gives me the ability to write and speak. It keeps me from being alone and introspective.

It also gives me a different perspective on blogging.

Most of the blogs I’ve read are people sharing their ideas with other people. That’s not a bad thing, but it can feel one-sided. The blogs that seem to have the biggest impact are the ones that feel like you’re having coffee with them – virtually.

Those blogs don’t seem to be about teaching; they’re about connecting. It’s about the writer laying a few thoughts on the table, and readers responding with their thoughts. It’s a true conversation, not a monologue. It’s real, and it’s vulnerable.

It’s about mutual curiosity.

It has the scent of a human moment.

Connecting through a blog doesn’t replace human moments. It’s a way for thousands of people to feel like they’re actually having an intimate conversation at Starbucks.

That’s what “comments” are for. It’s not something to stroke a writer’s ego because they get lots of comments. It’s a chance to do what we would do across from each other at a table: notice each other, hear each other, respond to each other.

It reminds us that we’re not alone. There are other people working their way through life, and we get to encourage each other on the journey.

I can’t have coffee with all of my readers. But I’m grateful we have a chance to connect in this way.

Thanks.

Go find a real person to have coffee with today.

They need a human moment – and so do you.

 

I’d love to hear your thoughts, and so would your fellow readers . . . comment below.

 

 

 

 

 

Why I Haven’t Liked You

I thought you should know the truth:

imagesU7WQSCJK

I haven’t liked you for a while.

You may already know that.  In the past, you’ve posted things on Facebook about your life, your travel and your thoughts.  When I saw things I connected with, I would hit the “like” button so you would know.

I haven’t done that for a while.  I haven’t been spending much time on Facebook.

So when I haven’t responded to your posts, it’s nothing personal.  In most cases, I didn’t see it.

I still like you.  I just haven’t “liked” you.

Like

I haven’t spent as much time as usual on email, either.  Or LinkedIn or Twitter.  Or social media in general.

There’s a reason.  It’s the same reason you haven’t seen a blog post from me for a few months.

It’s called bandwidth.

Bandwidth means you can only do so many things effectively at one time.  The more you try to do, the more diluted everything gets.  You end up really busy, but never accomplish anything.

We all have 24 hours in a day, but about 100 hours worth of opportunities.  There are so many things we want to do, and they’re good things.  It’s tempting to try to cram as many things as possible into those 24 hours.

But we can’t.  At least not while keeping our sanity.

I read a book earlier this year called “The ONE Thing: The Surprisingly Simple Truth Behind Extraordinary Results” by Gary Keller.  A friend recommended it.  It’s exactly what I teach every day in different corporations, so I identified easily with it.  But seeing it through someone else’s eyes gave me a fresh look.

The author says that the less we do, the more effective we’ll become. He suggests that we should pick the one, single thing that is the most important to do over the next six months to a year – something that would have huge payoff if we accomplished it.  Then focus our energy entirely on that one thing.

Just one.

The biggest takeaway for me was thisOnce you decide what that one thing is, everything else is a distraction.

Distractions are “shiny objects.”  They come unexpectedly from every angle, and they look a lot more interesting than the important thing we’re working on.

But if we go after them, it takes us away from the one thing.

So here’s what it means for me:

What has my one thing been for the past six months?

A new book that I’m writing that’s due at the publisher in three weeks.

What are my shiniest distractions?

Facebook, email, social media, other articles I want to write, blog posts, cleaning my office, maintaining my yard . . .

They’re all good distractions – things that fit into the category of “really important.”  But they keep me from writing.

Good writing takes time.  Great writing takes undistracted time.

I want to do great writing.

So, my apologies for not “liking” you.  Or emailing you.  Or blogging, or having coffee with you or responding to your calls.  It’s not malicious, but it’s intentional.

I’ll tell you more about the book another time.  But I’m in the home stretch – enough that I feel OK letting you know through this post.

As I put a ribbon around the manuscript, I’ll start ramping up again on blogging regularly.  I’m exploring what that should look like, and might change the focus in the future (depending on what you value the most).  It’s a gift to me that you let me into your mind and your inbox occasionally, especially when it’s a 2-way conversation.

I don’t take that for granted.

In the meantime, thanks for your patience.

Having been mostly away from Facebook for a while, I’m wondering how much I want to go back.  Something to ponder.   But whether I push the “like” button or not, rest assured:

I really do like you.