When the going gets tough, I write haiku. Personal haiku, political haiku, random haiku - I find it soothing to take something overwhelming and pack up all its punch in only 17 syllables. This week, I’ve been seeing the effects of fear everywhere I look, including the mirror. These 6 haiku are as much for me as for my clients and friends. Hope you enjoy them.

#1
Can’t do this, Can’t do
that. Start, stop, start, stop. Afraid.
That’s no way to lead.

#2
Start strong, keep going.
Shadows follow, never lead.
They cannot catch you.

#3
Do too little, do
too much, gossip, distance, blame.
Anxiety sucks.

#4
Tired? Stuck? Fear has
you. Get up! Energy comes
from movement, not thought.

#5
Wanting to rush through
I slow down. Key points I miss
now bite me later.

#6
Natural to push,
threaten, shout in times like these.
Counterproductive.

My uncle owns a garage that specializes in tires. When I’m in town for a visit, I go to the garage and talk to him while he works. I watch him balance each tire before he mounts it. It’s mesmerizing to watch the tire wobble on the balancing machine, and to watch his hands notice the exact place the tire needs a small weight pounded into the rim. He’s been doing this so long (he’s 86), he’s a tire psychic. After he’s done, it’s satisfying to watch the way tire spins when it’s perfectly balanced. It doesn’t wobble. With one tiny push, it spins and floats. It’s light as a feather, a perpetual motion tire.

Putting a balanced tire on a car makes the whole car run better: The tires want to spin! With balanced tires, the car gets better mileage, and it’s more fun to drive.

Aligning the front end of the car distributes the load evenly. It feels like less weight. It handles more easily, and is more responsive to the driver. The tire appears light as a feather when it’s balanced, and the car seems to weight less when it’s aligned.

It’s these two things that add up to relevance: You balance each task before you add it to the mix. You make sure the task is aligned with the goals of the department and the company, and then you align them with the goals of the person doing the task. Same workload, but it’s easier to carry. Same tasks, but they seem to spin on their own. We’ve all worked like this: It’s fun.

Balancing the task
A task will spin on it’s own when nothing is bogging it down. When a task wobbles and threatens to lose momentum, we’re quick to point to the motivation, skills and even the character of the person doing the task. And, that is one element of balancing the task: Making sure the task fits the skills of the person doing it. But, the other elements can be far more important: Is the task properly budgeted for, adequately staffed, and has it’s impact been thought out? Is there someone in the organization who hates what this task or project and has the power to stop it? Is there another department or person who’s life will be made miserable if this task is completed? Anticipating these obstacles and planning for them eliminates the wobble. Being blind-sided by them wipes out momentum.

And, finally, if this task is done successfully, will the person be rewarded or punished for it? This one is worth lingering on: If I give you a difficult, gnarly project and you knock it out of the park, is giving you another tricky, difficult project a reward or a punishment? This is personal and can vary moment-to-moment. If you can’t answer that question for everyone who works for you, you’ll never be able to get a task to spin.

Aligning the task with the organization and the person: WIIFM.
Nothing gives a task wings like alignment. You’ve seen how people can work when they believe in something. You’ve experienced it yourself: When the task matches your talents and goals, it’s worth all the energy it takes. That’s how you know it’s aligned with the person doing it. Organizational alignment shows up in organizational commitment: People walk their talk, the project is funded, when people get wind of what you’re doing, they get involved and spend time with you. It’s easy to get appointments with stakeholders, and they help you. You can see the momentum build.

WIIFM - What’s in it for me? - is always operating, for the organization and each person in it. Fighting it doesn’t work for long. Joining it builds momentum. Which will you choose? Write and let me know - I’d love to hear about how you navigate this.

There is a relationship between how hard a goal is to achieve and how motivated we are to achieve it. If it’s too easy, we are barely engaged and may miss it through neglect. Even if we make the goal, it won’t be our best work. If it’s too hard, we give up in despair and may think less of the person who set the goal. Or, we may get frozen in anxiety and turn in a lackluster performance, which is discouraging. If that weren’t enough, finding the motivation zone varies from person to person and from moment to moment.

It sometimes seems that making a goal achievable is itself unachievable.

Which is why it’s so lucky that you can just ask. Oh sure - you can lock yourself up in your office and slave over your keyboard looking the the magic wording, the right balance between stretch goal and boredom, then present your perfect goal to your employee, team, partner, colleague.

Or, you can ask:

“How should we set the goal so it triggers your best performance?”

That’s it. Simple, easier than slaving alone in your office, engaging, fun. Remember: if you’re working harder than they are, stop it!

Don’t forget to set a follow-up date so you can stay in touch and make corrections as needed.

Measurement is about paying attention to the right things at the right time. It’s not about enslaving yourself to meaningless numbers, and driving yourself mercilessly to achieve them. Unless, for your business, that is the right thing to be paying attention to. What you measure is what you and others will pay the most attention to and focus their efforts on. It’s what will grow and change about your business. Choosing what you will attend to shows others what you are committed to. Measurement is potent that way. Which is why some of us shy away from it: What if we choose the wrong thing to watch and people start acting in unexpected ways? Choosing what to measure and how to measure it is the tricky part.

WHAT TO MEASURE: Some Guidelines

Relax. If it’s worth doing - and it is - it’s worth doing badly. Just pick something, track it for a bit and see if it gets you the behavior and results you want. If it doesn’t, notice that and choose something else. If this is explicitly collaborative process - that is, you do it out loud - that’s even better. Then everyone sees that paying attention and making adjustments is normal, natural and everybody’s business.

Expect it to be awkward at first. Measuring makes performance public. This makes some of us squirm. We’ll adjust as long as the attention is fair, kind and has some connection with what matters, both to us and for the business. In fact, when you get this right, it’s like having the wind under your wings.

Some of what you pay attention to can shift over time. For a new business, a focus on cash flow is the right thing. Most new businesses find that their attention naturally goes here, because if cash flow isn’t primary, the business won’t make it to the next stage. For a more mature business, a focus on cash flow stunts growth rather than supports it. On a team, an exclusive focus on goals can lead to a lack of team behaviors. When you see team members undercutting each other, look at what you’re measuring and adjust it.

Some of what you measure will not shift over time. Your company values are on this list, as are the goals and performance measures that define your business. These two components make up your company’s identity. Measuring these is like checking your route you’re driving against the directions you got form mapquest: Are you still on track for your original destination? Are you still behaving according to the values you established for yourself? These two things can beat each other up - if you stop attending to one of them, that one will fall by the wayside.

HOW TO MEASURE

You can count anything if you can see it and name it, the more specifically, the better. Most of us count money, and count how many activities we complete. That’s a good start. Even better is finding a way to count results, rather than just activities. Is your 90% on-time delivery rate (an easy to count activity) pleasing your customers (the trickier to count result). They key here is to look for the observable behavior and count that. What do customers do when they aren’t pleased? Two things: They complain and they use someone else. So, count customer compliments vs. complaints and count customers retained and customers lost. Make sure to ask them why they stay or go.

What about so-called “soft skills:” How do you count those? Remember: If you can see it and specify it, you can count it. Let’s take the example of “teamwork.” Everybody wants good teamwork. Trouble is, we often don’t specify what we mean by that. This is like saying “I want to business growth” without specifying what you mean (more business in the stores you have, or more stores; more students in the classes you offer, or more classes, and so on). If we do specify what we mean, we don’t get down to the level of observable behavior - what do people who are team players do? How often, and with what sort of result? If you’re stymied at this point, ask yourself how you know you lack teamwork? Chances are, it’s because of something you see or hear. Behaviors are what you see or hear, like a lack of asking for help or receiving it. Turn these around - state them in the positive - set a target, and start counting.

You may also see a lack of teamwork show up in your business results, often in poor customer service, as when one team member throws a customer concern over the wall and hopes that someone else will attend to it, but without making sure this happens. “Throwing it over the wall” and “dropping balls” are two ways lack of teamwork makes itself visible. Turn these around, set a target, and count start counting.

Make it easy and if at all possible, fun. If it’s too complicated, you won’t do it. Keep it simple, easy to do and small. If it’s handled lightly and with humor, you’ll increase willingness a hundred-fold.

Change it up. If you don’t, everyone will start phoning it in or gaming the measurements you’ve chosen.

What’s your experience with this? Your wisdom is welcome in the comments below.

SMART goals: No concept is more important to being an excellent manager of groups or individuals. SMART goals can set you free. They can set your employees free. They are the key to successful delegation. However, their misuse can lead to senseless micro-management, planning overkill and employee ennui. I thought I’d write a reliable guide to walking the fine line between using SMART goals to free you and your peeps, and rendering them listless with managerial overkill.

Over the years, a couple of the letters in the SMART acronym have taken on a life of their own. I’ll do what I can to trim them back a bit. Here are the versions I’ve come across:
S = specific
M=measurable, memorable
A=Achievable, actionable
R=relevant, realistic
T=timely, time-bound

I’m going to start with T. For one thing, it’s the easiest to do. Even more important though is this: It’s the key to managing energy, and managing energy is the key to performance. Without a deadline, even the most specific, measurable, important goal flops around like loose string on Itzak Perlman’s Stradivarius.

Nothing tightens up a team like a deadline. And, nothing ensures a deadline will be met like setting a follow-up date. That’s all it takes, really: Give a specific deadline, like “Saturday, 10:00am,” then set a follow-up date to check on progress: “Let’s talk on the phone in 3 days - how about 3:00 on Wednesday?”

You’ll be astonished at how quickly things start to move.

I can almost hear your objections: “But, Liz, isn’t that treating adults like children?” Or, “Why should I have to babysit my employees? They’re professionals. They know what to do - they should just do it.”

Except:  You don’t set follow-up dates for them. You set them for you. Setting and keeping follow-up dates are what allows you to manage a project without having to step in and do it yourself. Follow-up dates give you all the opportunities you need to manage well. Here’s what I mean:

• Setting a follow-up date shows your commitment to the goal or task. Time spent is how you show people what’s important. When something is a high priority, you make time for it.

• Setting a follow-up date shows your commitment to them. Time spent is how you show people that they are important to you.

• Setting a follow up date gives you easy access to teachable moments. Regular contact makes this easier. The result is better alignment, early course correction and - best of all - the ability to express appreciation often.

• Setting a follow-up date keeps you both current. Has there been change in the priority of this project? In relevant information?  Regular follow-up dates make it easy to pass this information along.

You see? All the critical tasks of a manager, there in easy, bite-sized pieces, built right into the fabric of your day. No inertia to break through, no big hill to climb to reach your goal. Follow-up dates enable you to tag on to the energy and momentum of the actual work while working your management agenda. They are a twofer.

But the primary reason you set a follow-up date may surprise you: It will give you instant feedback about how clear you were in the first place. And, take it from one who knows: You weren’t nearly as clear as you thought you were. You weren’t as comprehensive either. You may have forgotten some critical detail, or failed to think things through to a logical conclusion. Follow-up meetings show you this with painful clarity. It can be embarrassing to respond to questions that arise during a follow-up meeting, but it will be some of the best time you’ve ever spent.

Next week: S is for specific.

As always, I welcome your ideas, input and stories.

We’ve all done it: We’re running a meeting and someone says something that just floors us, something like “That will never work - we’ve done it before and it failed. It will fail this time too.” You want to say something…pointed. But you know better. It’s your job to stay calm, cool, collected and above it all. To lead. To keep things moving. After all, there are 8 other people in the room and they are all looking at you.

So you say everything but what’s on your mind. You say, “I understand your point of view, but” Or “Thanks for that, John. Let’s get back to our…” Or: “I think it will work and here’s why.” Or “Things are different now and I need your help.” Or, you say “That’s great, John, we’ll explore that in a minute,” but your palms are facing John and pushing toward him. Pushing him and his ideas away. Running right over him.

Everyone of those tells John to shut up. He hears it, and so do the other 8 people in the room.

There is another choice, and it works better. By better, I mean faster and you get to take John with you into the rest of the meeting.

Tell rather than show. Instead of showing your irritation, anxiety and time pressure, just say it. But not just part of it: Tell John all of what’s on your mind. It might sound something like this: “John, I hate hearing that. I find it discouraging and that makes tense up and want to push right past you.” (Pause here and exhale. Notice that John has not exploded or expired from the force of your rage.) Then say the rest: “And, I know you’re trying to tell me something that’s important to you, so I’m going to do my best to listen. What is it you want us to know?”

Several things are possible now: John has a much better chance of articulating the information concealed in his unskillful first attempt (it is in there, and may have little to do with what he said at first), and you have a better chance of feeling more sane, human and connected as does the rest of your team. Chances are good that someone is smiling, maybe even John. Maybe you.

Even if John stands by his original complaint, it will have less bite. And, no one will be squirming.

Two things make this effective:

1. Say both sides of what you’re thinking - share both sides of your dilemma. You hate hearing it AND you know you must. Leave the first out and you risk sounding insincere; leave out the second and your risk sounding hostile.

2. Keep it in the present. This is not the time to let all your frustration at John’s past — and probable future — negativity spill out. It’s a moment - a moment for John, a moment for you. That’s all the weight it deserves. Staying in the here and now keeps it at the right level of intensity and lightness.

The careful reader will notice that I only listed 5 ways to say shut up. I was hoping to get your help with the other 45. I’ll start:

Refusing eye contact, saying nothing, looking at our watch, multi-tasking, reading anything, turning away, shuffling papers, talking over someone, interrupting, saying “I hear what you’re saying…”

Some mistakes you can only make with a computer. That’s how a draft of this went out well before its time. My apologies. Here’s what I meant to say:

“Give people a fact or idea and you enlighten their minds; tell them a story and you touch their souls” -Hasidic proverb

Lately I’ve been thinking about how disconnected a work team can get while each member is pursuing their separate responsibilities. Nowhere is this more evident than the in an executive’s team of directors. Each director has more to do than they can handle, and oversees a function that is wildly different from and independent of those of their peers. Add distance to this mix and building cohesion gets even more difficult. That’s why staff meetings can become recitations by the boss - tidbits of information, detailed reports from the boardroom - one endless, boring presentation after another. Rather than break down silos and territoriality, these meetings reinforce it.

Let’s face it: These middle and senior management teams have no common work product that they can come together in service of. Saying they all work together to realize the company’s annual goals is too abstract. And, the cost of gathering these groups together for face time necessary to build cohesion is significant.

So, if your group doesn’t realistically work on a common task, how can you build esprit d’corps?

1. Lower your expectations. You’re not failing if your group isn’t going bowling together every Friday night. You’re not getting substandard results because some people work best alone. Teams have been over-hyped and oversold. Instead of thinking your team has to join hands and sing Kumbaya, adopt this standard instead: No injuries, no deaths = a successful team.

2. Treat them like adults. They buy and sell big ticket items, make life and death decisions, balance their own budgets and work within limitations every day. Is it realistic to think they can’t handle the truth about a budget cut, a lay-off or be undone when they hear the word “no?”

3. Suck it up. Rather than swinging wildly between faux-sensus (get them in a room, ask them to come to agreement about something that is a foregone conclusion, but may prove unpopular, and call it “coming to consensus”) and dictatorial emails that infer the decision is someone else’s fault. Instead, notice that these are the same thing: You not owning a decision that is yours to make or announce. Eventually, your group will notice this is a game and they’ll stop playing it.

4. Use processes designed for groups. These make a place for the orderly expression of conflict which enables your group to disagree without becoming disagreeable. They allow you to get exactly the kind of participation and interaction you want out of every meeting. That’s what you want. The road to “teamosity” goes right through the town of conflict and returns there often. Having a clear path to walk ensure you’ll survive the trip. I’ll write more about these in next week’s post.

5.Stories. Tell each other stories about what touches you, what challenges you, what inspires you, what you’ve learned, what you’re grateful for. Tell your story. Tell them the story of the department you’ve always wanted, the vision you hold but need their help realizing, the reason you came to work here, took this particular job. Make yourself visible and vulnerable, then see what happens next.

I have this persistent idea for an icebreaker: Each time you meet, a different person has to bring a story, poem or quote that has touched or changed them. They tell the story, read the poem or quote, then say what it means to them. I’m looking for an on-going group(s) who will be my guinea pig on this. Any takers?

After the exciting beginning comes the inevitable complication. Isn’t that the way? It’s the hero’s journey. It’s always the hero’s journey.

After you resolve the initial complication comes the really big complication: The collaborative organizational change project where you realize that you’d underestimated just how little your managers know about sharing leadership. Oops. The new car that doesn’t fit in the garage. Oh, no! You don’t have time to do it the way you’d envisioned it. Uh-oh. You fall a little less in love with the whole idea. If the really big complication is really, really big, you reach a decision point: declare it a failure and end it, pretend it’s working and find someone to blame, or figure out how to move forward. This latter option always involves transformation. Of you, the hero.

I’m pretty sure this is the really big complication: When we realize we’re about to be inconvenienced. Mightily.

Many change projects founder here. We start arguing for the problem (”they’ll never…” “we should have realized…”) or decide that something was wrong with the whole idea (”well, THAT was a mistake”).

It’s as though no one has read The Two Towers. Do you remember it? It’s the middle book in JRR Tolkien’s trilogy, The Lord of the Rings. Reading it is like being flayed alive. The fellowship is split, the initial pact spoiled, flaws and hidden agendas revealed. All the fun is gone and all seems lost. The book details - excruciatingly - the separate journeys of the characters. There are long marches through barren landscapes, deprivation, hunger, terror, attacks and remarkable encounters. Everyone undergoes a transformation. Destroying the ring is that big an idea, that compelling a purpose.

Whatever you’re involved in may not be as big as destroying an evil ring. But I bet it’s important. The middle of anything is always like The Two Towers. The mistake we make is thinking that something is wrong because it’s no longer easy or simple. We pull back and then wonder what’s wrong with them. We get tired.

The middle of anything is about recommitting to it. Not to what’s wrong with it, but to the ideal behind it - to the purpose. It’s fine to change the details, or lop off entire sections. It’s fine to scale back. Just don’t equate the discomfort with being wrong or failing. Don’t panic. You’re not failing. This is normal. You just look for the next toehold and lean into it. This is how you find out the true nature of what you’ve committed to. And how committed you are. And to what. Is your commitment to the way you initially decided to do it, and now that that’s not working, you’re outta there? Or is there something bigger that still holds you and enables you to re-vision your involvement. The only way to fail at this point is to quit.

My ukulele was no different. I bought it to have fun, to enjoy its beautiful sound. I was seduced by that sound. I conveniently underplayed the nerve damage in my left hand that’s kept me from playing guitar for the last 16 years, although I’ve tried many times, and been to many physical therapists. I’d been a classical guitar major in college, and I’ve never stopped missing that sound. I thought: The uke only has 4 strings - surely I can play it.

And, for two weeks, I could: I dove right into difficult jazz and classical arrangements because that’s what I loved. It was fun, it was easy, it was…OUCH! My left elbow was on fire. Physical therapy seemed a logical next step, but not for treatment. I needed a decision: Can this left hand be rehabilitated, or do I need to learn to play with my other hand?

Ada Wells, an extraordinary PT, tested the pincer grip in my left hand. I failed miserably and the fire in my elbow intensified. My right hand passed the test easily, with no pain. Now my decision was: What do I want to do?

Took me a couple of days to decide, but I committed to making those sounds I love, and let go of the way I thought I’d get it. I restrung the uke and started learning to play left-handed. I’m quite a bit further from my goal of making sounds I enjoy, but I’m noticing something unexpected. I used to love playing guitar; in college, and later as a music therapist, it became my job and much of the pleasure drained out of it. Now that that I’m a beginner again, I can let go of all that performance pressure. Mostly I sound terrible, but what can you expect?

I wasn’t in Maui 2 minutes when the uke bug bit me. Waiting for our luggage, I heard a light, resonant strumming. Turning to find the sound I locked eyes with Rex, a local real estate agent, who invited me to sing along. Why not? His friend handed me the lyrics: “Tiny bubbles…” our little group warbled. When we got to the end, we started over. “It’s the only song I know,” Rex said with a grin.

When we stopped for a breather, Rex explained how much he loved Maui and wanted to make sure his high school friend, visiting for the first time in 45 years, felt welcome to the island. Rex was so full of aloha, he pulled us all right in. Another couple made eye contact with Rex and I handed them the lyric sheet. We all sang the only song Rex knew. Before we parted, I had his card and a great lunch recommendation and - best of all - I was part of a story.

All that from one guy being willing to sing his song and invite others to join him.

That got me thinking: What’s the story I invite people into? It’s the storyline I’m always telling no matter what I do, just like Rex with his ukulele. It’s the thing about me, about each of us, that affects people most. I don’t know about you, but people’s storylines captivate me.

More about this in my next post as this one is already late (!) and finding your storyline is a big topic. Not to mention ukuleles.

There’s a elegant, simple way to do this and there’s the other way. The other way is to employ a variety of passive, aggressive or passive-aggressive techniques to get others to behave differently. Not only is this excruciating for everyone involved, it doesn’t work. It does give us a way to occupy our days, and something to riff on at the dinner table. Perhaps this explains its timeless appeal.

Or, you could use the approach that drops you right into the slipstream: Change your behavior.

Oh, no, no, you say - I’m right and they are wrong, wrong, wrong. They need to change, not me. I deserve better.

Exactly. I’m not arguing with you. I’m telling you how.

But Liz, they are the ones who need to change. I’m not changing for them - why should I? It’s just not possible - I can’t do it, it’s not who I am. Besides, it’s so hard.

And yet you expect them to change. You aren’t willing or able to change, but you expect them to?

A mother brought her overweight son to Ghandi so he could tell the son to stop eating sweets. Ghandi said “Come back next week.” When they returned, Ghandi told the son to stop eating sweets. When the mother asked about the intervening week, Ghandi said “I had to see if I could do it before I could ask someone else to.”

Leadership is going first.