Obviously I Had Lobster as a Child

I was thinking back recently about how the words we use and the statements we make help define who we are, especially with others.  You form an opinion about others by the words that escape from their world into yours.  You are even forming one about me right now!

The trouble is, at least for me, is that the distance between my brain and my mouth is incredibly short.  Words travel that distance at such a quick pace, that most of the time they escape from my lips without the benefit of a much-needed filter.

Thinking about this made me remember a time when we were in Virginia having dinner with a group of friends.  The discussion shifted towards everyone’s place of origin and what foods we grew up eating.

“Obviously, I had lobster as a child”  blurted out one friend.

The room erupted.  This friend always gave off the impression of affluence anyway, and this statement sealed the deal.  It took us a good five minutes to stop the incessant giggling and this friend was trying desperately to clarify the statement.  This is what they meant to say.

“I grew up in New England.  Frankly, it is hard to throw a rock in the summer and not hit a lobster.  Traditionally most families in New England treat themselves to lobster, at least once a year, so since I am from New England, one could conclude logically that I had lobster as a child.”

Take a moment to think about your impression of others.  If you catch someone on a bad day, or when they are in a rush, you still form your opinion about them. Is it that opinion accurate?  Is that who they really are?  Be careful.  What they say, what you hear, and what they mean may be worlds apart.  Maybe you should see how obvious it is that they had lobster as a child. 

Specifics

Have you ever noticed how often we correct each other on minor details?  When you hear someone telling a story and they get one small specific detail wrong do you hear others chime in?  Do you chime in?  I notice this at work, at parties, and even between my own kids.

Picture this.  You are at a party and someone is trying to tell this great story, and someone else who knows the details is right next to them…helping.

Person 1:  “So last Wednesday, I was walking down Main Street and you will never guess who I met.”

Person 2:  “I believe it was Tuesday.”

Person 1:  “Oh yeah, right, so Tuesday, I was walking down Main Street.”

Person 2:  “I thought you said it was North Street?”

Neither correction matters to the listener.  We are still there anxiously waiting to hear about who they met on the street, and the specific day or specific street is much less relevant.

Whenever I see this happen, I watch the storyteller.  Their story, yes their story, is being taken over by someone else.  Their frustration rises, and eventually they are forced to say “why don’t you just tell it then.”

A few years ago, my wife and I were at a concert.  It was a pretty intimate venue so we felt like we were really part of something amazing.  The band began talking about their new song.  This song had not been heard before, and deals with the tragic loss of someone close.

When death like a gypsy, comes to steal what I love” is one of the lines.

One of the band member began to share a story.

“So this song deals with the loss of someone close.  And how hard it is when tragedy comes in and takes from you.  I recently met someone who lost their friend in the nightclub fire in New Hampshire.  Someone close to them.”

From the crowd (more than one person):  “Rhode Island…not New Hampshire.”

“Right…Specifics.”

There was silence.  Silence that resulted from our collective shame in trying to correct the details of a story that was meant to help us understand loss.  I even caught myself during the story thinking “I think he means Rhode Island.”  

Stories matter.  They help us to understand each other and the world around us.  Let people tell their stories.  When you find yourself about to correct the details…stop and let it go.  Remember it is only “specifics.”

You’re Awesome…

There is nothing better than working with people.  I mean it.  Either in a team, or individually it makes for fun stories (and I have permission to share this one).

A large aspect of what I do is helping people understand themselves in a behavioral sense. One measure is how much a person interacts with or the influence they have over people. Someone who scores high by this measure tends to be optimistic, interactive (loud) and can move the crowd.  A lower score is somewhat pessimistic, introverted (quite) and withdrawn.  Neither is right or wrong, they are just different and interesting.

While working with a couple, one of them measured extremely high and the one was extremely low.  It was almost impossible for them to be any more different in this category.  They say “opposites attract” and I have seen this play out in behaviors with couples.  It is magnetic and exciting while dating, but after a few years…well you know.

This particular difference plays out when delivering or receiving compliments.  (One of the hardest aspect of leading, either in your work or life…but that is for another day.)  And this is how it played out.

The Optimist (high score):  “You’re Awesome!!!”

The Pessimist (low score):  “What?”

The Optimist (high score):  “You’re Awesome!!!”

The Pessimist (low score):  “Let me get this straight.  So far this morning you said the coffee was awesome, the dog was awesome, and I am awesome.  What does that even mean?”

The Optimist (high score):  “You’re Awesome!!!”

The Pessimist (low score):  “So in your world, I am somewhere between coffee and dog.”

Optimism can be a great thing.  Inspiring others, acknowledging who they are and what they contribute is a great attribute, but taken to the extreme can be seen as superficial and meaningless.  Everything cannot be awesome, or the word losing its meaning.  

If you are optimistic, don’t stop…the world needs some hope these days.  You may need to be a little more careful with the words you choose.  Sincerity is the key.  If you are on the other spectrum, remember that you see the world in a more grounded way, to you the coffee is adequate or okay.  But when you get that great cup of coffee…tell someone (don’t just point out how it could have been better).

For the next week, let’s try a little experiment.  Listen to yourself and 3 people who are in your circle, your life.  Determine where they fall in the optimism/pessimism continuum and let’s try to meet them there.  For the optimists a pat on the back and a “nice job” will go a long way.  For the others, being sincere and providing details will take the “nice job” from empty words to real meaning.  We can all use a little encouragement, and why not apply it this week.  Let me know how it turns out.