I love movies; someday I’d like to write some screenplays, or even produce a movie. Likely, this is among the (too many) things I dream about but will never get around to doing. If only I had 10 lives, or even get by on a few hours sleep each night, then perhaps. But, for now, in fleeting free moments, I’ll just let my mind wander to creating movies that only fit within a certain genre of “feel good” stories about overcoming adversity, leadership, and someone finding their “thing” in life–sometimes through the unlikeliest of people or circumstances.

So today Zoe woke up quoting scenes from Finding Nemo, a great movie, and begged me to watch it with her this morning. And, since it’s what one could classify as a crappy day and am postponing my bike ride–at least until this afternoon when it heats up from 42 to 45 degrees–I decided to sit down and see it again. Royce also joined us. There’s are some great scenes in the movie that make me think a lot about life and business, and I really do think it’s true to form.

So Marlin, Nemo’s dad, is on this quest for his son, and for most that have seen it the story revolves around this entire journey. And what I love about it is that he gets saddled with Dory, who is clumsy, charming, sweet, forgetful, and aloof. Yet he’s dependent on her. And despite Marlin’s hard core all out effort to find Nemo, they keep getting sidetracked–sometimes, usually, via Dory’s delinquencies. And this heavily annoys me. There’s little that I like in the movie about Dory, she’s just…well…annoying and incompetent. And we all have people in our life that we feel like are distractions or keeping us from getting what it is we want (perhaps sometimes it’s us), or where we feel like we’re supposed to be headed. I’m inclined to get really impatient with these people and events, I don’t love the tangents at times. A lot of times.

Finding Nemo, though, was this little reminder that some things are just a force of nature, and they’re going to go. And go, and go. Especially if you keep pushing. There’s an element of destiny to life. There’s also an element of “you’ve got to create it”, but often I think we discount the breaks and detours along the way that help us get to one of the milemarkers in life. And today’s reminder wasthat sometimes the detours and those “distractions” are not only part of the enjoyment of the journey (almost always after the fact), they also in some way help us get there, even when we can’t see it.

And a lot of times, I’m so fixated on getting there, and pushing hard to do it, I don’t.

“Correction does much. But encouragement does more.” -Goethe

I have blogitis again.

The origins of which are complicated, but the clinical presentation is always the same: an absence of compelling blog posts. But from last week up until just an hour ago, three people sparked me to blog right now about, well, what’s compelling me to write. Perhaps the reason it was so touching to me is b/c I’m just struggling to make time for this among all the other priorities.

But then it hit me, from three different people, during the course of last week. And it wasn’t logic. No money involved. No carrot. No guilt. No publicity. It was quite simple. There is just one thing that changed my outlook on my blog, and also my general perspective for my life today:

Encouragement:

I’ve spent too much of my life correcting and not enough encouraging. And I’m not talking about the slapdash stuff that we sometimes deliver people, like an impromptu “hey hey, what’s happening…love that shirt, hair looks great, you’re amazing!” whilst making a wink and a nod and a click click noise coming from your mouth with your fingers pointed at the person like you’re holding two revolvers.

For the record, I have never ever done that. Ever. At least not the winking part.

It costs us nothing. It takes practically no time. Yet we don’t do it very often, we treat it like it’s this scarce resource, when we should be offering it up freely–especially to those who need it. So, there it is. I could add 5,000 words, but I don’t think the reminder would be any more compelling.

Today I’ve got a packed day of activities out in Jersey, which is everything from working with a painter and separate carpet installers to going to the post office to Home Depot to the hot tub store to doing lots of yardwork to shopping at Healthy Habit (touching story about the guy who used to own this, someday blog material) and a myriad of other projects.

And of all the things I have to do today is to give someone else the gift that someone gave me today. Something that might either be as simple as brightening their moment, or changing their outlook on their life. Encouragement.

Special thanks to Robin, Louise, and Dr. Coldcall.
(see Dr, I told you you’d make the blog someday )

Lots has changed in my life in the last few months, though I’ll save my personal update and whereabouts for another blog entry. But as a result it’s put me majorly behind my writing eight-ball. Because I’ve been traveling all day and the night is still young w/ lots to do, yet I’m not going to bed tonight until I get a post uploaded to break my streak, I’m going to post a rather simple one from the weekend.

So Saturday I’m at the Farmers Market in Oly with Erica, it’s a cool kitschy place to go and spend a cold and damp summer morning (ahhhhh, the late summer starts in the NW!) and one of my favorites is to sit outside and listen to some fold band while eating “The Skillet” from Dingy’s along the food market portion (BTW, have them ease up on the meats, load it up w/ veggies, a little light on the cheese–and the thing is amazing!) of the Farmers Market.

Anyways, I’m walking along and I see a guy in the distance standing freely, wearing a Fedora-style hat and a white guitar case by his side. And literally I watch waves of people walk by him, and it’s almost as if there’s a vector that as people are getting closer to him they speed up and walk by much more briskly than they approached him. I was really intrigued as I sat and watched this from 150 feet away, but determined to check it out.

So as I slowly walked towards him, trying to listen to what he was saying to passerby’s, I finally made out the dialogue, which went like this:

Fedora-wearing man: “Do you like Poetry?”

Passerby: No. (whilst proceeding to bundle their small children and walk every more quickly)

This happened maybe ten times as I was watching, and I couldn’t help but chuckle–I was intrigued. But Fedora-man remained unfazed. Completely, unabashedly, and unflappably unfazed.

Then, every approximately 5th to 7th passerby the convo went like this:

Fedora-wearing man: “Do you like Poetry?”

Passerby: Yeah.

Fedora-wearing man: “May I read you a poem I wrote?”

Passerby: No.  (proceeding to walk much more quickly)

Still unfazed, he kept going. So then about every 4th person that answered the affirmative to the question about liking poetry (if you’re keeping track, that’s about every 20-28 no’s) someone would stop and say yes, he could read to them. And he did.

So at first I really thought this bizarre. And maybe it is. I sure as heck didn’t answer the question “Yeah” when he posed to me. But then I started thinking about Juan Mann, I did a post about him a while back that you can read here. But, as I thought about it, I was intrigued. Here’s a guy that loves poetry. Apparently he likes people. And he must even not have too great an aversion to hearing the word “No” repeatedly. Like every minute. Great salesman material. But what he loved was what he was doing.

So, there it is. A quick tribute to:

a) Fedora-wearing-poetry-guy-at-the-Olympia-Farmers-Market.

b) Being able to hear no and keep on keepin’ on.

c) And following your purpose and passion. However oddly structured to guys like me that may seem.

P.S. And on a very serious note–a belated thanks to all those who have or currently serve this Country to protect our freedom and liberty. I have such reverence for those who have provided our Country, and people like me and my family, such faithful service. I am deeply indebted.

Last night I had the opportunity to speak/facilitate a small group discussion around Coachability and Listening.

So the guys didn’t need to take notes, I promised I’d circulate the culmination of ideas and discussion points captured as we shared the dialogue. I thought it might be a good blog entry, so decided to simply publish my notes on this blog entry which is somewhat a “Part Two” to the Coachability posting that I wrote weeks back.

So here’s the outline, Coachability Part Two from the Men’s Small Group last night:

Coachability. Who cares, why’s it matter?

It’s upstream to all other wisdom, knowledge, and best practices. If we’re not coachable (learners, teachable, open, listeners, willing to change behavior and improve, etc) then we’re hugely rate limiting our potential–regardless our talent.

The resources used for the dialogue:

“They Call Me Coach” by John Wooden, book of Proverbs (whether you’re religious or not, this is a book filled with wisdom that people from all various faiths could appreciate–at least in part, if not whole), and a YouTube clip from Marshall Goldsmith–not exactly riveting, but it’s five minutes of a great premise and I think he’s right on:

So out of the dialogue, here were some of the best practices and ideas generated that I’m passing on. BTW, one of the key premises to the evening was that we’re not striving for anything profound, if that happened great. But the real objective were a few clear, simple, and actionable items that we could use starting today to take meaningful steps towards improvement:

1. Realize being “Coachable” isn’t innate in most of us. Most of us don’t even like receiving, let alone asking, for sincere coaching. And though you might have all the talent in the world, we won’t come close to fulfilling our potential without the key Coachability factor.  Realize you’ll resist, defend, brush off, or deflect feedback. It is in your nature to want to hear things that will stretch and sharpen you. For most of us. But it can become a part of you with time, patience, and practice.

2. Also realize, the more you ask, the easier it gets to hear the feedback and focus on your improvement areas (or, simply improving those things you’re already naturally talented in). Learn to love feedback. Takes training and discipline. At first it hurts. Then it hurts a bit less. Then a bit less. Then not much at all. Then you start to enjoy it (usually). Pretty soon, it becomes a natural habit that’s easy and conversational.

3. Coachability seems defined beyond just teachability, though synonymous to a degree the Coachability factor incorporates both the willingness to listen/learn as well as change and improve behavior.

4. Make it a point to ask people for feedback at least once a week. If you haven’t done it before, ever (and some in our group hadn’t), find someone you respect, pick something that you really want to get better at, and ask them candidly for a few things you’ve done well and a few things you can improve upon. And when you’re picking people, don’t just pick people who like you or you know will go easy. Get it from a variety of sources, your employees, customers, friends, mentors, kids, spouse (though I know for those of us married it seems like we probably get enough feedback as it is, that seemed to be the humorous consensus of the group yesterday ).

5. Find a mentor, someone that can give you unvarnished feedback regularly and that will help you progress along your journey.

6. Speaking of unvarnished feedback, remember how hard it is for the giver to actually provide candid feedback. Either they might fear you, or they might fear a “retaliation”, or they might simply not want to hurt your feelings or get into what could be an awkward dialogue. Make sure you explain you want to improve, and help them peel back the onion. First pass and they might only be sharing with you superficial stuff. To get good feedback, again and again, you can’t retaliate. You can’t resent, you can’t become bitter, you can’t become defensive.

7. Focus on your non-verbal, be open and friendly/warm, calm, relaxed–not all tensed up, arms crossed, scowling and whatnot (which we’ve all done–or at least I have). And with your verbal, don’t get defensive, don’t be annoyed or frustrated

8. Don’t assume all feedback is right on. Try to reflect rather than respond. Sit on the feedback for a day or several days, and really try to assess whether it’s relevant to you. Don’t dismiss it because you don’t like it, dismiss it only if it really is inaccurate.

9. Let’s remember that you can’t please everybody (but don’t use this as an excuse either). Part of your vice is probably your virtue. For example, for me personally I know there are times when I’m too hard charging, or too demanding and have too high expectations. But that’s also part of what is my strength, so for me to eliminate it altogether would be neutering something that’s innately me–and a skill. For me to balance it and know when to emphasize and minimize is what’s important. So remember there’s an ebb and flow, and also that not everybody is right about the feedback you receive. You can’t make everybody happy, and you can’t be doing anything productive in life without some criticism.

10. When you get great feedback, focus on a few core things and them implement, practice, refine, and re-assess.

This is only a small smattering of what we came up with, but I wanted to try to limit it to ten key ideas or principles around the Coachability factor. If you have other ideas or suggestions, please share them as a comment below.

So to the guys that I got to hang with last night (Neal, Bob, Mark, Doug, David, Matther, Don, Chris, Dan, and Alfred) thanks for such a lively discussion and the great ideas you helped to generate on ways we can be more successful at one of the key characteristics most of us lack to varying degrees. Loved the time, the ideas, and inspiration I received from each of you.

As many of you now know, yesterday with the internal team and today with the entire external field organization I announced publicly my resignation from Univera as the CEO of International. I’ll be wrapping up my time at Univera through the end of May.

I have nothing but the greatest things to say about my time at Univera. The people involved, and particularly each of the field leaders as well as some key people internally (special thanks to Regan, a great boss and friend, as well as my teammates, too many to mention), have been nothing short of exceptional to me–you’ve been true partners all along the way. I’m also grateful to Bill Lee, who has provided me such an incredible opportunity these past four years.

It’s now been 4.5 years, and after several expanded roles at Univera, I can think of no other job in North America that could have stretched me as much as did these past experiences. From good times to exceptionally tough times, from long-term strategic planning to dealing with urgent “today” issues, from driving to objective decisions based on market data to those decisions related almost wholly to heart, emotion and subjectivity, there is no other job that I can think of which would have been as powerful an accelerator in my personal and professional life as this one. It’s been 15-years worth of experience in a little under five years of time. And while I have learned so much, at the same time, I feel like I’m just getting warmed up.

Which puts me at a place in my professional career where, for a variety of reasons, I have selected to take a different path and move onto the next thing professionally. The dream that has existed at Univera for each of you still remains; for me, however, for now my dream and destiny rests elsewhere (the details of which I’m keeping quiet about for now). While I’m very excited about my future, I’m also bittersweet for the reasons each of you know.

What’s next?

As some of you recall, at Convention two years ago when I spoke about our goals and dreams, I made a firm commitment to achieve four goals in my life and created a plan in order to achieve each one. Two have been accomplished (a certain business goal, and also my trip back to Kolkata, India), yet two still remain to be completed–and I’m stubbornly determined to accomplish them both, in addition to some new ones along the way.

The two goals? One is to complete a book I am supposed to write, and it needs to be done this year. The second is a physical health goal, specifically to get down to 15% bodyfat. So I’m still going to succeed at these, no matter how frustrated or off course I’ve been with them both (and as an aside, neither should you be frustrated by any delays in your goal setting/achievement…you can still accomplish them, stick with it, keep re-loading as needed…don’t quit, don’t quit!), and those are going to be a focus this year in addition to my new professional endeavors.

And, there’s more writing I’ll continue to do. It’s not for lack of content that I haven’t blogged for the past month, for a variety of reasons I just felt better to let it rest. But I’m going to continue blogging.

And my focus will largely continue to be about personal development–to try to write in an authentic way, without idle BS that so often peppers our talk that gets in the way of truth, and to try to continue to share stories of people who have done either the ordinary or extraordinary, or have learned lessons along the way.

Some of them are stories of the deepest magnitude, a hero who touched–and saved–so many lives, like that of Rick Rescorla during 9/11. Others have been fun filled gifts of laughter and play, like the Forever Wedding Dance couple who taught us a simple lesson about celebration and having fun. And then there are stories about the unbridled passion to make a difference in the lives of kids–like Geoffrey Canada with the Harlem Children’s Zone. None  of those are original content, simply the pulling of stories of others with a few pieces of commentary alongside.

And it will continue to be sprinkled with some personal stories and anecdotes–some involving my business endeavors and others around personal experiences. So those things will continue, and I hope you’ll freely participate along the way. You can also follow me on Twitter (@richraz2) or on Facebook (“Rich Razgaitis”).

What I get absolutely fired up about is to see people pursue their passion, whatever and wherever that may be, so that each of us can find their destiny and achieve greatness (which, has nothing to do with title or money). These can mean radically different things for all of us. The key, though, for every one of us, is to find and pursue with unbridled passion those things for which you and I were intended.

That is when the magic happens.

It’s the reason that I love movies like Crazy Heart. Stories of redemption, personal calling, overcoming a struggle to achieve greatness. I read a great quote the other day: “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” I love to connect with those who are fighting the hard battle–but also remain determined and destined to achieve greatness. At the same time, I would love to imprint upon others a distaste for apathy in a way that makes them sick. Yes, we should hate apathy (in most all cases) because it’s one of the greatest thieves from you pursuing your purpose. Being apathetic is giving up, it’s not caring. And once we’ve lost the heart and passion to care, well, I don’t know how to reignite that again–let alone help someone win.

So onwards with the stories of perseverance towards purpose.

Erica and the girls are both torn yet excited for our future. They, too, went “all in” with us on this Univera journey. I’m thankful for the sacrifices they’ve made to let me have the time and adventure with each of you. They’re ready for the next move, though, and are resilient and excited despite this being bittersweet.

I will miss each one of you. Tremendously. Together we have gone through it all, especially those of you who have been on this journey with me for years. It is, really, too difficult to put into words without sounding trite or filled with hyperbole. There’s a lot that’s happened. A lot we learned. And even more we gained.

So I’ll leave it at this: together we’ve been through it all, and I love you a lot. No matter what.

Thanks for a great journey.

Your friend,

Raz

The reason I write in my blog is to connect with people. Not just from one segment of life, but from many. Usually the focus revolves around finding your purpose, passion, and renewal.

And as part of the thread of stories I try to share experiences and observations in leadership, volunteerism, wellness, as well as some events that are simply personal experiences that fall in none of those particular categories and, might, at times, be more personal.

Today’s entry is one of those. So if the personal aspect is too much, please skip this one today. The first entry that I made a year ago was here: Happy 4th Birthday Buddy.

Here’s today’s entry…

Dear Levi,

Today marks what would have been your 5th birthday.

This year I’m home instead of on the road, and lots has changed in our life–some for the better, and other parts not so much. But we’ve learned a lot, and we’ve grown a lot. God has been really gracious with us, and me, more than I deserve I am sure.

Royce is getting to be such a great soccer player, and has become so exceptionally good at reading. At night she reads to Zoe, sometimes “illegally.” She has a little flashlight that she pulls out after we’ve turned the lights off and I often catch her continuing to read into the evening. Mom makes her stop (as she probably should) but the truth is I sneak in and give her a little thumbs up when I catch her reading and tell her it’s okay. She has such a heart for people, and an exceptional ability to communicate with others. And she’s intense, in a high-achiever way. Perhaps sometimes too intense (that’s probably from my DNA). I admire and love her passion and enthusiasm for life.

Zoe is amazing as well in her own unique way as well, she has such a compassionate heart. And is so incredibly creative. You should see (or maybe you did?) the latest “dog feeder” invention that she made out of who-knows-what materials–I can’t believe what she thinks up! I love it, every day it seems there’s a new contraption for me to scope out. Her ability to develop deep relationships and comprehend complex information is pretty amazing too. She processes so quickly, I love her ability to think thoughtfully and deeply for such a young kid.

I’m so proud of both of them, and so is Mom. And today I know we would be equally proud of you as well. I wish I knew your attributes that I could brag about, someday I’ll find out what those are specifically. I’m sure there would have been, or are, lots.

We talked about you a great deal this week, and more than ever, we miss you.

Yesterday and today, especially.

You might not know it, but Royce and Zoe each have their own “baby song”, which kind of represents them as a kid. This whole thing started with Royce, when she was in the hospital NICU as a preemie and we didn’t know whether she would live–or if she did the kind of life she would have. At many points the outlook was grave. During our daily drive to Morristown Hospital, Mom and I often would hear the song by Marvin Gaye (probably one of my favorite artists) “Aint No Mountain High Enough”, which came to symbolize our confidence and belief that everything would be okay with Royce.

Of course, we still play that song and think about those days. So, naturally, about a year ago Zoe wanted her own “baby” song that represented her! We chose, with a strong bias from Zoe, “I’ve Got a Feeling” by Black Eyed Peas!!! LOL. I think that’s hilarious. You can listen to the song, I think the lyrics are fine, but don’t watch the YouTube video–it’s a little too racy. Especially for up in Heaven. That could be awkward.

So you’re the last one without a song, and yesterday I thought we should pick a song for you on your 5th birthday. I wish you were here to help select it, but I think you’ll dig it. Unanimously we picked “I Can Only Imagine” by Mercy Me. Your mom thought of it first, I can’t tell you how much she misses you. It’s beyond words.

Some people have told us that every year this would get easier. And while time helps heal some things, it doesn’t seem true as it relates to missing you. Every year represents another year without you, and we’re both comforted and saddened as the years go by.

This evening the girls made little cupcakes for you, RoZo decorated yours–it’s the one in the middle, with all the balloon candles. And we went to play laser tag–we’ve never done it before, but the kids thought it would be something you would enjoy doing so they picked it instead of going to some princess movie, which I don’t think you would have liked as well.

There’s one project that I was supposed to do for you several years ago. It’s been on my mind, and I know I’ve been negligent in finishing it and I’m really sorry about it. This is the year. I have to do it, and I want to make a commitment to you that I’ll get it done.

Tonight, as I wrote a year ago, I hope that this message gets to you somehow and in some way. I think it will. Know that we love you so deeply, and we’re so glad that we even had you for a few hours. I wish it had been many years, but the hours and memories that have ensued are better than never having the gift of you in our lives.

Levi, here’s your “baby song.” I hope you enjoy it. Whenever we hear it we’ll think of you.

I love you buddy, no matter what.

Find your passion.

Watch this guy, Jake Shimabukuro, play the Uke and ask yourself if this guy isn’t just amazingly passionate about what he does? With 50-years of training, I couldn’t do what he just did on this YouTube video.

But, the point is that he couldn’t do what YOU’RE supposed to be doing when you’re connected with your passion and purpose.

So he found his, and as a result can do some pretty amazing stuff.

Have you found yours?

Okay, that opening title is a bit dramatic.

First, as my wife reminds the kids–and me–we don’t HATE anything.

Second, even if I DID hate something, I don’t REALLY hate museums.

At least not all of them, just certain kinds.

But what was valuable is that I learned something this week about myself. And, Pascal would be so proud of me right now, because you know, the whole “to know oneself” line of thinking was so important to him.

And, really it is to us if we’re to find our purpose in life, to pursue it with a relentless passion, to be living in your destiny (or working towards it), you gotta know yourself. What you like. What you don’t. Where you’re good. Where you’re not. Why you’re doing what you are, and what you should quit doing as well.

This week I made a decision.

I’m not going to any more museums having to do with crafts, ceramics, or archeology. Period. At least not on my own accord.

I am sick of trying to find these things interesting, just because other people do or this is something culturally that is “smart” of me to do (and I am convinced that 50% of them are also faking it, like me, but just doing a better job). I really don’t care whether, Mr. Curator, there exist 2,000 little clay cups in your museum, that perhaps there was a ceremonial cleansing cup that forged together two Continents. In fact, it’s highly irrelevant to me whether they came from Costco twenty minutes ago or a big dig that resulted in a revelation dating back tens of thousands of years. And finally, Mr. Curator, if you give me one of those defibrillator-looking digital “walkman” player to hang from my neck, that is probably riddled with head lice from the 10,000 other people who have worn it proceeding me, it still doesn’t make me more interested. In fact, I think it hurts the cause. Because now I feel obligated to hear the five minute history lesson about the clay pot that I already had seen too much of when I walked briskly by.

I’m just…not…interested.

And, this week, officially I decided, that I will quit trying to be interested. Here’s the point of the story:

We’ve got to find the undercurrent of what gets your hot buttons. Too many of us go through life trying to do what we’re supposed to do because someone else thinks we should do it because someone told them it’s important. And, really, maybe it doesn’t mean snap to you or me.

Now, before someone thinks this is a good excuse to exercise out of discipline, learning, developing a well rounded personality, and on don’t misunderstand. I love space and science museums, I’m fascinated by some art museums. I love reading. I love language and culture and discussing deep subjects with people. I have even been known to love Readers Digest (big print version only, it just seems more appropos). No, my kids won’t get out that easy either. We will still continue family field trips, they will still learn about things they might not care much about, I will also force them someday soon to have Wall Street Journal article reviews on Friday nights as I had growing up. But I have decided, at least for me, at the magical age of 36, it is okay to decide to quit pretending or to try to force yourself to like something you really don’t and never did.

So this week, that’s what I learned about myself.

Which, upon reflection, is both silly and profound to me. Silly, because it’s simple and somewhat the humorous example (part of it has to do w/ the fact that I didn’t last 15-minutes in a museum that was to take me 3-hours one evening to fully explore). Profound for me, though, because it made me really consider that we can spend our lives trying to do things that we don’t love, or weren’t meant to do, and we’re living in our own personal prisons that have been created by perception of what’s important or intellectually trying to chase the proverbial Joneses (whose ubiquitous family, I would challenge, to a Raz Family Wall Street Journal Review contest any day of the week).

Today my message is as simple as an “I hate museums” shout-out to all those across the World (please, once again, no flaming emails; I’m not using the expression in a pejorative way, rather I’m stating it in this kind of wittingly clever sarcastic manner–and in no way do I intend to discriminate or discourage those who love museums of crafts and artifacts, let’s just not sit together at the next dinner party) to discard the pursuits that aren’t of interest to you, that suck energy out of your life without providing a tangible and disciplined return to you in some way, and to bypass the things that’s keeping you from unlocking the excitement and energy that rests within you to pursue something with rigor and passion that either serves you, serves someone else, or serves your purpose.

It doesn’t mean that we should love everything that we do, a good part of finding your purpose and passion involves the discipline of education, investment, time, energy, exercise, whatever. Just make sure there’s a reason for doing it, other than because someone else thinks you should.

Here’s a short entry that, I believe, is a key success factor in life…Maybe one of the success factors for YOUR life. And this will also help me break my complete absence of blog posts in the last ten days.

I also read the leadership books, magazines, listen to the stories and the speakers, and blah blah blah.

But there’s one critical ingredient that’s a huge success factor for your life and mine, that’s rarely (relatively speaking) acknowledged or addressed:

Coachability.

There are tons and tons of “best practices” that list everything imaginable: right seats on the bus, empower people, principle-centered leadership, sharpen your saw, words that work, servant leadership, and more blah blah (blah blah blah only in the most respectful of ways, I’m just trying to prove my point). And yet, the absolute irony is that none of this makes any (I so want to use a strong word here, but I resist) snaps worth of difference if you’re (me included) unwilling to be coachable (this has got to be a worlds record for parenthetical statements for two sentences).

Coachability is listening, understanding, accepting, hearing the feedback, acknowledging reality, not glazing over stuff, confronting the truth and receiving it–both “it” being the fun stuff and the not so fun stuff–so that you can make genuine and authentic improvements in your life.

The best people in leadership and management, that I’ve read and followed or seen and experienced, are the ones that have this underlying characteristic: they’re coachable.

Being uncoachable is like needing to buy a car that will be the catalyst for you to get to all sorts of places really important.

And amidst this, you’re going to be driving other passengers so you want to be in something comfortable, plus you also have a need to get there fast. And safely. Reliably too. So you’ve found your wheels, the car is decked out, it’s fast and comfortable. You’ve spent all this time and money and effort picking out the perfect car. And your first day you’re in the drivers seat, ready to roll. You pull out of the driveway and passively cruising, something is wrong but you can’t tell what it is, noises are coming out of the vehicle, it feels sluggish, there’s an acrid smell like something is burning. And it’s because you left the emergency brake on.

Being UNcoachable is like having the perfect set of wheels, but your e-brake is always on. It slows you down. It burns things up. And in the process you look silly.

This is how, unfortunately, a lot of us go through life. With our e-brake on, being uncoachable. Slowing things down, other people and ourselves.

So here it is, my number one success tip for leadership development: be coachable.

Because downstream none of the other stuff matters much, even if you read and can recite at rote all the common best practices, if you and I aren’t coachable.

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