Zugunruhe: Helping great people get [good] things done: Zoog.un.roo.ee

What are the ingredients of a life well-lived?

Dear Andrew,

I found your blog from a post about your project by Bob Sutton. What you’re doing--writing a book in 38 days as a gift for your grandmom--is such a beautiful thing that I wanted to help. You asked for contributions to important ingredients for a life well lived. Here’s the number one ingredient in my recipe: Just jump.

Once upon a time, I was a surgical nurse in a large hospital in Monroe, Louisiana. Even though I loved my work, and I was good at it, I felt a deep yearning for something more. I knew, deep in my soul, there was something I was supposed to be doing with my life. I loved birds and the outdoors and my heart ached every time I heard stories about the destruction of tropical rainforests. Mind you, I had never seen a tropical rainforest. But knowing that they existed and were being destroyed hurt my heart. Finally, I went on the trip of a lifetime: I traveled to Costa Rica.

The Costa Rican rainforest was even better than I imagined. I loved it so much that I went back home, quit my job, and went back to Costa Rica a few weeks later to live and work in the rainforest. I just jumped.

In one of your blog posts, you quoted Seth Godin: “If you can’t make it through the Dip, don’t start.” I disagree. That’s like saying, “If you might get your heart broken, don’t fall in love.” When I jumped into my new life as a rainforest biologist, I had no idea of the obstacles I’d face or the prices I would be asked to pay. If I had thought about the Dip, or anything like the Dip, I never would have had the courage to jump.

Gandhi is quoted as saying, “Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.” I probably never crossed the Dip as a rainforest biologist. I am not famous. I wrote no Science and Nature papers. I think it’s fair to say that as a biologist, I was pretty average. I was not a loser, however. Here’s some of what I would have missed, had I thought about Godin’s Dip: earning my PhD in biology, meeting and marrying my soul mate, spending nearly seventeen years conducting research in the rainforests of Panama, living the life of my dreams every single day.

When you feel the deep yearning and you finally figure out what your heart’s desire is, just jump. When you recognize the face of your one true love, just jump. Jump into life even if it might kick your ass. Jump into love even though it might break your heart. Just jump.

I did. And I never looked back and I have no regrets. I don’t think I could say that if I had worried about the Dip.

Peace be with you and best wishes for your success,
Tara

I Don't Want You to Like Me

I’ve been contemplating some changes recently. Big changes that will allow my business to evolve. To offer some new services. To grow. To differentiate.

If you met me in the grocery store, I wouldn’t really stand out. There’s nothing about me that’s particularly distinctive. Successful businesses, however, must stand out from their competition. They have to do and be distinctive. But many small businesses are a lot like me--they don’t stand out in crowds.

I was reading John Jantsch’s Duct Tape Marketing recently. John talks about what he calls “copycat marketing.” Pick up your local yellow pages, he says, and you’ll see that every business in a particular category looks much like every other one. The ads are so much alike that you might not be able to tell one company from another if the names were removed. He says, “[You wouldn’t] want to be different. What if people noticed?”

John was being facetious. Most business do want to be noticed, to stand out from their competition. But looking different is scary. We’re taught from a very young age that different is bad. Different gets picked on. Different doesn’t get a date to the prom. Different isn’t popular.

A while back the authors of Made to Stick took on what looking different means to businesses in their column in Fast Company. Companies that are brave, crazy, or edgy enough to really polarize reactions, they say, often get big payoffs. Scott Palmer, celebrated theater director, says much the same thing. The worst thing someone can say about one of his plays, he told me, was that they “liked it.” Love it. Hate it. But like is empty of emotion. Like doesn’t create a memorable experience.

I often grouse about really bad TV ads (I particularly dislike the “Messing with Sasquatch” series). I am not in the market for beef jerky, but I have to admit, those asinine ads are sticky, even if what sticks is how much I dislike the premise that being a jerk is funny or entertaining. The creators of these ads would probably be pleased to know that I dislike them. They’re not selling to me. They’re selling to some other demographic who thinks their ads are hilarious. And that would be the point. Jack Link’s Jerky is undoubtedly enjoying some success because they’ve managed to stand out from the crowd and risk being disliked to be memorable.

It’s hard to let go of wanting to be liked, I know. But being liked is empty. Dull. Safe. Being loved requires risk. To be loved means being yourself, authentic, real, genuine, different. Standing out in someone’s eyes. Personally, I prefer being loved over merely being liked. Being loved is risky. But the payoff is priceless.

HOPE for Thanksgiving: Help Other People Eat

Throughout the ages,  wise men and women have counseled people to do acts of charity. “Be generous,” they say. As it happens, the saints of old were on to something. Doing nice things for other people make you feel better. Not long ago, scientists discovered why.

When you get a reward that means something to you, your brain reacts. It likes it. And it’s not just candy or sex, either. Money makes your brain happy. Yep, your brain has a special region that lights up when you get some cash; it’s called the mesolimbic reward system. But here’s the cool bit: your brain likes giving even more than getting!

Jorge Moll and fellow researchers at NIH used brain scans to examine how people responded thoughts of giving to charity. The reward areas of the brain were stimulated--even more than people received actual monetary rewards themselves. In fact, others parts of the brain responded to charitable thoughts as well: the parts that play a role in forming relationships (like friendships and romance). All in all, charity seemed to be more rewarding to the brain that receiving money was.

So what does this mean to you? It’s time for Thanksgiving--the eating holiday. Most of us will enjoy big meals with family and friends. But there are lots of people who will go hungry on Thanksgiving. You can bring great happiness to yourself by stimulating your own mesolimbic reward system along with your tummy by being generous. Hope is not just an emotion, it can be an acronym: Help Other People Eat.

Helping other people eat is easy. Almost every city in America has a food bank or some organization that feeds people. If your local area doesn’t have one, you can donate with confidence to America’s Second Harvest.  America’s Second Harvest receives a Four Star ranking from Charity Navigator (an organization that evaluates how effective organizations are at doing what they say they do). America’s Second Harvest spends practically nothing on administrative and fund-raising--that means that your donation will go where it belongs: to feed someone.

So loosen your belt, open your wallet, and feel the joy of your happily rewarded brain as you give HOPE (and food) to someone who needs it desperately. Now that’s something to be thankful for!

Getting My Hopes Up

This morning, I reminded myself not to get too hopeful. “I’m not going to get my hopes up,” I told myself. Holding back hope is a way of protecting my feelings. If I don’t hope for too much, don’t expect great things, and hold back, then maybe I won’t be too disappointed if things don’t come through.

I imagine I’m not alone in holding back hope. Most people would sooner risk their money than their hearts. It’s so much easier to keep expectations low than to come back from getting your hopes and dreams crushed, right? Wrong.

A couple of days ago, I told my husband that I was afraid something I was working on wasn’t going to turn out. I wanted to hedge my bets. He asked me if I was afraid of success. At first, I thought he was wrong, but now I’m thinking he was on to something. When I refuse to get my hopes up, I’m communicating to my soul (and subtly, to the world around me) that I expect to fail. It’s not a fear of success--it’s a bass-ackwards invitation to fail.

When I hold back my hope, I’m not just refusing to take a risk. My passion is caged. My energy is diminished. I’m already admitting that defeat is not just a possibility but more or less expected. Phooey on that. So here and now, I’m declaring that I am getting my hopes up. I expect the best outcome.

Yes, I expect to succeed. I say this without reservation and without caveat. Success will be mine, come what may. One thing I know for sure is that we get back what we put out. I put out an unequivocal confidence in every single one of my clients that they will succeed. I believe in them even when they’re not quite sure they believe in themselves. That’s part of my job, the sacred trust I hold for them. It’s about time I did that for me, too.

Having my hopes up (and in public, too!) is scary. But let me tell you, I’d rather hope to succeed than fail to hope.

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Attention: Small biz owners, entrepreneurs, anyone interested in sales and marketing--I am conducting a name recognition survey on marketing systems. Click here--it’ll only take a minute--and tell me what you think. Thanks!

Why I Love Working with Social Entrepreneurs

I work the greatest people the world has to offer. Some of those people are social entrepreneurs. If the phrase “social entrepreneur” is unfamiliar to you, look out. It’s the latest trend in the business world and you’ll be seeing more and more companies founded on (or taking on) the principles of social responsibility as time goes by.

Social entrepreneurs take the idea of doing good and pair it with doing well. In other words, they reject the idea that you can only make money or be a do-gooder but not both. These people go out to change the world and make a profit at the same time. And the really good news is that they’re succeeding.

The social entrepreneurs I work with are, each and every one, really smart people. These are not pie-in-the-sky idealists with their goofy heads in the clouds. Oh no. These are realistic, well-educated, objective, hardnosed business people. They’ve run the numbers. They’ve done the math. But they’re not totally governed by their heads. They let their hearts have a say, too. They follow their passions and their consciences. Not conventional. Never boring. These are the change-makers. The movers and shakers of the next wave.

The best part of working with social entrepreneurs, though, is that these folks bet the farm on hope. Hope for a better world. Hope for a change that will produce better lives for people who are so downtrodden that they don’t dare have hope for themselves. Hope for a world that’s melting down and warming up. Hope for trees and butterflies, clean water and a nice profit margin.

Social entrepreneurship isn’t just for profit, by the way. It can be a non-profit path, too. More and more, non-profits are realizing that the wave of the future is to be self-sustaining. It’s great to carry your own weight and put your muscle behind a cause without worry about depending on the whims of donations. In short, it’s about being good as well as doing good, making an impact the smart way, not just because your cause is worthy.

Working with my fabulous social change artists makes me high, I’ll admit it. I get off the phone feeling like I, too, can leap tall buildings with a single bound. But the truth is, all of us can take on some of the characteristics of successful social entrepreneurs. We can all look for ways to be more green in whatever we do and to share our blessings with those who are less fortunate than ourselves. We can all learn to take risks, go after our dreams with solid business plans and open hearts.

If you’re not ready to take the leap yourself, you can still play in important role in social entrepreneurship. Check out Ashoka or Kiva. You can learn more about great people getting [good] things done and even lend a hand with your pocketbook. And if this is a path you're considering, check out Be Bold for some ideas on how to proceed.

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Hey, if you've got a minute, check out my new podcast series: Zugunruhe Talks. The series is dedicated to highlighting great people who do good things. The first interview, with public speaking coach Arvee Robinson, is up now.

Hope is Not a Strategy

Once upon a time, I had a problem employee. Over and over, I sat down with the person and went over how to improve their performance. Yet, time and time again, the same problems cropped up. Finally, we had a “come to Jesus talk.” I told this person to come up with a plan to put things right. No ifs, ands, or buts. A few days later, we sat down once more for the proverbial altar call. “What’s your plan?” I asked. This person shrugged. “I hope it doesn’t happen again.”

Hope? You hope? “I can guarantee it won’t happen again,” I replied. And then I used those words made famous by Donald Trump. “You’re fired.”

Hope is not a plan. Hope will not go on the sales calls, earn the paycheck, or make the gravy. That doesn’t mean hope is worthless. Hope is priceless. But hope is not a strategy.

Strategy is carefully devising a specific plan that meets your needs and goals and then executing the plan in a strategic way. Being strategic means having a willingness to adapt, to change, to roll with the punches. A strategy that is executed mechanically is doomed to fail. A strategy that is put into play strategically has a greater chance of success. And that’s where hope comes in.

We don’t know if our plans will turn out. We hope they do, but we have to do the right things and have some faith--faith in ourselves, faith in what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. It’s the confidence that hope holds out that keeps us going and allows us to hang in there over the long haul. Especially when signs of progress are subtle, hard to find, or non-existent.

Hope becomes strategic when you apply optimism in a conscious way. That means disputing your negative thoughts and beliefs if you’ve got a habit of being pessimistic. It means looking at your behavior critically and openly, rather than too optimistically, to find what it is that you’re doing that’s derailing your best intentions. And then attending to those shortcomings tactically by using your strengths to build a better you. Tactics and strategy are better than hope but useless without it.

To use hope as a strategy means to know what it is you’re trying to accomplish and then working your tail off. When all is said and done, regardless of the outcome, you’ll be able to stand back and say with well-earned pride, “I did my best and gave it my best shot.” Now that’s a plan.

Testing Hope and Optimism

I have a little bowl next to my desk. The bowl is filled with tiny cards. On each card is an inspiring word or phrase. A friend of mine gave the bowl and cards to me after seeing how much I enjoyed reading a pair of Angel Cards from a bowl at our favorite café before our lunches together. I don’t think that the cards really carry any great significance; I just enjoy getting a random shot of inspiration. This morning, I closed my eyes, dug around in the bowl, and pulled out two cards: “optimistic” and “speaking my truth.” How appropriate on a morning when I’m writing a post about hope!

I spent most of Sunday afternoon on Martin Seligman’s webpage, taking various assessments. I re-took the VIA (the long version, all 240 questions). My goal was to see where Hope and Optimism ranked for me among the 24 strengths. Hope and Optimism wasn’t ranked lowest (Teamwork was--not surprising given my indepdendent nature). Hope and Optimism fell right in the middle--13th out the 24. I took this result optimisitically. At least I’m not working on something I really lousy at.

Next, I took the Optimism test. The Optimism test consists of 32 sentences with paired responses for each one. The idea is that you read the sentence and even if the situation isn’t true for you, you pick the cause that reflects your first, gut response. It doesn’t matter if the cause you pick is exactly what you’d think was true, given the situation. It’s only what seems most likely to be true from your point of view.

Here’s an example of one of the questions: “You lose your temper with a friend.” The answer choices are:
A. He/she is always nagging me.
B. He/she was in a hostile mood.
(For the record, I picked answer B in this case.) After answering all 32 items, here’s what I got.

On overall hopefulness, I scored a 2. That means I’m about average, neither more nor less hopeful than most people. The way this is determined is by looking at two aspects of hope: responses to good things and responses to bad things. A hopeless response to a bad event is to see the glass as more than half empty and ascribe a global cause (like “I’m stupid”) or a big-time bad expectation (like thinking you have cancer when you get a cold). On the flip side, a hopeful person will respond to bad events with “I was unprepared” or “it’s just a cold” to these same sorts of things. Responses to good events also play an important role in determining how hopeful you are. A person low on hope is less likely to give him or herself credit when a good thing happens, ascribing it to luck instead of talent, for example.

The test breaks down optimism in two ways: permanence and pervasiveness. Permanence asks whether or not you think the situation will last and pervasiveness asks how much of your life is affected. When you take the test, you get four scores. How you view bad events and their lasting, more permanent effects, the permanence of good events, and the pervasiveness (or overall influence) of good and bad events respectively. Overall hopefulness (where my score of 2 came from) is a composite of these four scores.

It turns out then when bad things happen, I’m pretty darn optimistic. I don’t see bad things as ruining my whole life or being permanent. When something good happens, however, I’m a downright sourpuss. I see good events as either being luck or due to very specific factors. When good things happen, I don’t see that as a big trend for my whole life. Overall, I see good events as neither permanent nor pervasive. Uh-oh.

As I thought these results over, I realized that my view of bad events has changed a lot over the years. I used to take failure as a really big deal. I would wail over bad results, get really down in the dumps, and on occasion, use setbacks as excuses to get really, genuinely depressed. But going through some genuine adversity (like a miscarriage, for one), changed me--for the better. I survived the downs. I recovered. And by recovering, I convinced myself that bad things were temporary setbacks, not huge, life-altering-for-the-worst disasters. What that tells me is that if my view of bad events can change, so can my view of good events. I can learn to be more optimistic.

Fortunately, I already know a handy little technique to use. It’s a four step method that I've used to teach writers to write instead of procrastinate. In a very generic way, goes like this:

1. Notice the feeling/thought/belief/idea you want to change
2. Take a new viewpoint
3. Focus on the new feeling/thought/belief/idea you want to cultivate
4. Deemphasize the resistance you feel about changing

To change my pessimistic attitude about good events, here’s how I might use the four steps:

1. Notice that something good has happened.
2. Remind myself that good things happen all the time, they happen because of who I am, and that the causes of good things are permanent and pervasive.
3. To focus on my new, optimistic view, I’ll need to come up with a thought that’s specific to the event. For example, if I get a new client instead of thinking “I got lucky,” I’ll say to myself, “I got this client because I’m a good coach.”
4. When the resistance to the new explanation shows up (and it will, because pessimism is a habit with me), I’ll remind myself that I don’t have to believe the new explanation just yet, but I can accept that it’s true (or soon will be).

Hey, I’m feeling more hopeful already! Now when I look at the two little cards I pulled out, and see “optimistic” and “speaking my truth,” instead of thinking it was just luck, I can say, “Yeah, that’ s who I am and what I do.” Now I’m ready to start looking for good things and work on changing my attitude for the better.

My Hope and Optimism Project

Ever heard the story of Sisyphus? The gist of the story is that Sisyphus was doomed to roll a heavy rock up a mountain. Every time he got near the top (and the end of his task), the rock would get away from him and roll back down, requiring that he start over. Sometimes, I swear I know exactly how Sisyphus felt.

I just got back from a lovely vacation. You’d think I’d feel wonderfully refreshed. And I do. It’s just that while I was gone, my rock rolled back down to the bottom of my metaphorical mountain. Now I’m standing here, wondering if all that heavy lifting was worth it. What the heck am I rolling this rock for anyhow? In a way, I feel like I’ve lost more than momentum. I’ve losing my grip on the confidence that all my hard work will pay off. What I need is a big infusion of hope.

To get my rock rolling again, my first step was to get my copy of Peterson and Seligman’s book off the shelf and read up on the strength of hope. Here’s part what I learned.

Hope is a strength in the category of Transcendence. Transcendent strengths are ones thought to “forge connections to the larger universe and thereby provide meaning” to our lives. Three of my five signature strengths fall under this category. I’m all about feeling connected to the universe and getting hooked up to purpose and meaning so I find the whole idea of Transcendence very attractive. I’m always wanting to transcend mediocrity and mundane--which sometimes leads to me getting a little snooty--but mostly my desire for transcendence means I want to change and improve for the better.

For a definition of hope, I asked Google. My search returned 29 million, 400 thousand results. It turns out that hope is not only an emotion but is also a computer programming language. Perhaps the best and simplest definition of hope came from Answers.com: a wish that carries the “expectation of fulfillment.” Hope is not just a desire for something but is trusting that the desire will come through. Hope carries with it confidence. Emily Dickinson wrote that “Hope is the thing with feathers,” likening it to a bird that sings continuously despite storms and extremity.

According the Peterson and Seligman, hope comes with three companions: optimism, future-mindedness, and future orientation. Hope, they say, is more emotional (a feeling) while optimism focuses on expectation (thinking). Future-mindedness is a somewhat awkward term which includes thinking ahead to consequences and results. Bringing up the rear is future orientation which describes something close to a sense of entitlement--having a future is assured (as opposed to having little or no expectation of times ahead, good or bad).

I’m really good at future-mindedness which includes planning and using calendars. I imagine that future-mindedness explains my fondness for GTD. I guess I’m pretty well set on future orientation, too, because I expect to be around tomorrow and have no reason to believe that my life will end anytime soon. So that leaves optimism. What I’m looking for is that sense of confidence that hope brings. The thing that seems to be missing for me right now is not happiness but the sense that all the stuff I’m working so hard to get will really turn out. That all the heavy lifting will actually yield something besides watching the blanking rock roll back down the wrong side of the bleeping mountain.

The idea is that thinking leads to feeling which leads to actions. The actions get responses (external to you, from the world and people around you) which reinforce your thinking. If optimism is a state of mind that I can cultivate (and research says it is) then hope (the feeling) should follow along behind. Then my actions will change. If all goes well, I’ll get responses and reactions and results that reinforce my optimistic thinking. This will increase my confidence and I’ll feel more hope. This creates a positive feedback loop meaning the more you get, the more you get. In my case, the rock might roll up hill a little more easily. Or at least I think it will.

Here’s where I’m going to start. I’m creating my own little Hope and Optimism Project. I imagine I’m not the only one who feels like Sisyphus now and then, so I’m going to share my findings with you. Because maybe something I learn will be of help to you. And your own rock will get lighter or the slope less steep. Hopefully.

Authenticity and the Art of Leadership

Not long ago, a client asked me about how she could become a better leader. She was concerned not only with reflecting on her own thinking but also getting accurate feedback from the people around her. “How can I see myself as they see me?’ she asked.

Of course, the easiest way to elicit feedback is simply to ask. That simple strategy is actually not so easy. Two reasons. First, will the person you ask actually tell you what they really think? And second, do you truly want to know what they really think? The first is an issue of trust and the second an issue of risk. These two issues are interrelated but let’s talk about them separately.

Establishing trust is a long-term commitment. The first key to establishing trust is personal integrity and authenticity. Integrity means being the same person day in and day out. Authenticity means showing up as yourself without pretending or hiding behind an agenda (which itself may also be hidden). The number one way that people learn to trust you is to watch you in situation after situation. If you behave consistently (i.e., have integrity), they decide what they can and can’t expect from you. This expectation, in part, allows them to predict how you’ll react to various situations. The worst case scenario is the unpredictable person who is monumentally inconsistent in his or her behavior (imagine the worst boss you’ve ever had…times ten).

I mentioned the authenticity piece to someone not long ago and basically got a response equivalent to “but what if who I am is a horse’s patootie?” (If you need feedback to know how to answer this question, check out the ARSE test.) The main thing to remember is about authenticity, is that authenticity beats false-fronts hands down. Personally, I’d far rather deal with someone who is consistently themselves and a jerk than someone who pretends to be wonderful and caring but in reality is a poisonous slithering thing from the slimy deep.

To establish the kind of trust that people need to have to tell you what they really think, however, requires that you put them at ease. That means that people feel that they can talk to you about yourself without fear of rejection, retribution, or other nasty consequences. The only way to get that kind of trust is to earn it by listening without flinching and allow the other person to be heard. Do this over and over and people will eventually realize that you’re not kidding and that they are not walking into a trap. Not easy. That kind of integrity and authenticity requires genuine strength and real mental toughness.

In sum, creating the kind of trust that allows people to raise red flags for your attention is a long-term project. If you’ve been a flamethrower in the past, you’ve got an uphill battle in front of you. On the other hand, if you’re generally a nice person, the trust you need to develop maybe in yourself to handle ugly stuff when it shows up.

How to Listen When Listening Isn't Fun

In business and in life, you interact with people all the time. Some are friendly and others are not. Some folks may be downright hostile. And all the while, you are the common denominator in every situation. “Wherever you go, there you are.” Yet when people treat you a certain way, it’s not necessarily about you. It’s about them. Their perceptions. Their experiences. Their expectations. Knowing this doesn’t let you off the hook. You have to be accountable for what you are and say and do. But in the end, you control only one person’s responses: yours.

Your job is to set up interactions with your customers, business associates, kids, and everyone else in your world in such a way that everyone has a chance to respond to the real you, not some idea or expectation of you. At the same time, you need to be able to respond to the real “them.” How do you do that?  Simple. By listening. Here’s a simple step by step.

First, hear with naked curiosity. This means to listen to every word and observe every gesture and expression with nothing added or subtracted. What is being said? What is not being said? Don’t be afraid to be silent and just listen. If the person stops talking, make sure they’re truly finished speaking. It’s a good idea to ask “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?” before moving ahead. Remain in this phase of the conversation until the other person is clear. If you’re not willing to stay in this phase until the other person is clean, consider whether or not you should be having the conversation at all. (The answer may be ‘no.’)

Next, ask carefully phrased questions. Here, engage your interest and ask questions to learn more, not to lead, confront, or challenge. If you don’t understand what was said, this is your chance to clarify. For example, you could ask: “What are you most concerned about?” or “Help me to understand what you mean by…” If you’re having a difficult conversation (like dealing with a hostile customer or a teenager), remember to stay focused on curiosity and information gathering. (And don’t forget to breathe.)

Third, make sure you know what the situation means to them. People rarely get disconnected from what happened or facts about a situation. What they usually get lost in is what it all means. If you don’t know what it means to them, it doesn’t matter what it means to you. (For you Steven Covey fans, this is “seek first to understand before seeking to be understood.”) One way to learn what the situation means to the other person is to say “Tell me about why this is important to you” or simply ask “What does this mean to you?” Listen very carefully to the answers. You may find yourself back in step one (hearing with naked curiosity). Remain in this phase as long as necessary for you to truly ‘get’ what the other person is saying. And if you’re having trouble understanding, whatever you do, don’t fake understanding.

Once you’ve got an understanding of the other person’s point of view, ask them what they want. You might say, “What would you like to see happen?” When you hear their answer, you have three choices: say yes, make a counteroffer, decline outright. Depending on your situation, you’ll need to carefully think your response through. It is perfectly OK, to say “I need to think about this” before coming back with an answer.

In business situations, however, as long as what they want is not illegal, immoral, or personally compromising, do your best to give it to them. Remember, this is not about you. It’s about them. When you genuinely evaluate someone else’s needs and act accordingly, you’ve heaped on tons of value. In his extremely popular books, Jeffrey Gitomer says “give value first.” He’s not kidding. You will build the best relationships with customers and business associates when you put their needs ahead of yours. If you can’t say ‘yes,’ say why, and offer to negotiate.

Regardless of how you choose to handle what they want, summarize what you’ve heard and understood. This is the most important part of the equation. People want to be heard. When you can accurately and sincerely demonstrate that you’ve heard someone, you are one of the few people in their world who is actually listening. You will stand out as someone special immediately. If the person has expressed their feelings to you, you should acknowledge those, too. That’s as simple as “It sounds like you feel ___ about this. Is that accurate?”

Finally, be faithful on the follow up. It’s not enough to listen, understand, and ask what someone needs or wants. You’ve got to be reliable. This is true in every relationship in your world. Reliability begets trust. Trust opens doors to better, more meaningful relationships.

Ultimately, becoming a skilled listener is a bit of a paradox. Listening gives you the chance to be yourself and enjoy having people respond to you instead some idea they have or a perception of you. Listening gives you insight into who people really are. To paraphrase the great Yogi Berra: you can hear a lot by just listening.