Life on the Outside

Just got off my high and mighty horse this morning with a thought I had while reading Re-Imagine (I always generate thoughts while reading Tom Peters).

Tom was bemoaning the current cluster of top dogs in Corporate America. Not all of them, just the wusses. The ones who claim that they want to hear it straight and then receive watered-down, polite Power Point presentations from their lieutenants and still balk because an adjective or bullet point was too deviant from the presupposed path. People afraid of losing power.

Peters' advice for these people, "Hit 'em over the head with 50 Brickbats." I'm not one to condone violence, but I understand. Maybe a physical jolt will knock some of the crust off these people. This is a sign of being in control for too long, and not paying attention to some serious shifts in the world. Success does not come to those who are right, but to those who "get it" quickly.

What is "It"? "It" is the truth, separate from one's own needs for affirmation or adoration. The leaders who "get it" will understand that the glory comes from outside oneself. From what others are telling them at all levels of the organization, provided those sources are authentic. The secret to success in business is not creating and then convincing everyone of your agenda, it's in finding "It" and facilitating others in discovering it as well.

I find it perplexing that President Bush uses Kerry's change of mind over funding the invasion of Iraq as a sign of his weakness as a leader. What's worse, finding out the truth and changing course, or finding out the truth and pretending that you're still right? Via the latter choice, more people die, more resources are wasted. Bush calls it staying the course. I call it being a crusty, grumpy leader who doesn't get it.

Once again, I'm feeling high and mighty here in my home office, friends in picture frames smiling at me. But last night I felt my hypocrisy, while having a drink with a friend. We used to work together, and she's always valued my ability to be straight. We were talking about another dear friend who has been in a bit of a funk lately, going through a lot of life changes and having a tough time adjusting. Summing it up in as general a way as I can, she wants to see changes in her life--a happy relationship, confidence in her choices--but explained to us that she simply can't. It's just not happening.

"Life is tough," she says, with a struggling smile. "But I'll just weather it for now, until I get through this."

My friend and I were praising her for her perseverance.

"May she find what she's looking for," my friend said. "I just wish her the best."

"Yep," I said. "She's such a good egg."

I took another sip of wine. Perhaps it was getting to my head. Perhaps I was getting to my head. Whatever the cause, I felt a sudden sense of disgust at myself. I love ragging on CEOs, Presidents, big shots, but consider my personal circle untouchable. The fact is, my friend needs to look at what she wants and be accountable for how she is stopping herself. Personal development retreats aside, she's done nothing but wallow in her self-pity. And worse, we've done nothing but toss her bath toys to wallow with. We've kept her occupied with her sad story.

"Actually," I said. "I think she's pathetic."

My friend almost choked on her wine. She looked at me with wide eyes and took it in. Then the standard reaction set in.

"Oh but she's so great."

"Not really."

"I know she's got problems, but I love her."

I loved her too, despite the spell she had cast on us. The I Love You spell. You hear those words from her, and all the wonderful compliments she pays you all the time: How you have your shit together. How you are so captivating. How you are SO skinny. And the forcefield grows around you both.

You live in that bubble together, sharing hugs and I love you's, listening to each other's stories and offering support (He doesn't know what he's losing! He's just a jerk.) But the truth remains outside that bubble. It threatens to seep in when you are around others not in the circle, like your boyfriend. Like with mine the other night when I told him about this sad friend of mine and how we should take her out to dinner because she was having such a hard time.

"Why?" he said. "I hate pity meals." I gasped as he said that. Just as my friend gasped last night over drinks when I suggested that our sad friend was pathetic. That's just human nature. The bullshitter in us having a half-assed last harrah.

My friend calmed down, and I explained. "We're the worst friends to her. We're buying her manipulation, but cosmically she needs to feel the consequences. She needs to feel lonely." She needed to feel the world outside the bubble--the world we pretend isn't there.

When we're with our girlfriends having drinks, or when we are in a boardroom presenting to senior management, we must ask ourselves. What do I ultimately want? Love and adoration or change? It's OK to want love and adoration, but understand it's a bought commodity. In the end it feels cheap.

Eventually you'll want the real deal; and when you do, expect the gasps of disbelief, your "superiors" telling you that you are mistaken, young, inexperienced, or flat-out wrong. These are standard human responses. But everyone goes to bed at night and ruminates over their day, over the comments that were stuffed down to maintain appearances, and pockets of the bubble open around them. Truth seeps in. And when it does, where do you want to be, inside or out?

Comments

[Joy DJ]

This is marvelous....and SO true. I just love what you say and how you say it...thanks. -Joy

[Jen]

Very true.

[Robert]

Yes, the 50 brickbats thing is a little too intense, I've always preferred Cher's classic barking "Snap out of it!" to Nicolas Cage in "Moonstruck" (accompanying face slap optional).

I can identify with your thinking re: your friend in a funk. There often does seem to be an implicit but counterproductive social code, protecting the "right" of people to go out for drinks is to vent and complain, not to be inconvenienced with actual solutions to their stated problems. She: "I hate my job!! Let's play darts and imagine the board is my boss's big round head." Me: "Well, have you thought about doing something else? I'd be glad to help." She: "Um, well, maybe, (cough), gee, it's getting late, maybe we should get the tab." A year later you run into same person, and play out the exact same conversation, same job, same boss, same allegedly big round head completely devastating her life, hopes and dreams.

There's nothing wrong with a little commiseration, but if that's all our conversations and friendships offer, we're missing out on some potentially meaningful sustenance. So I agree with you, we can all benefit from an occasional, compassionate "Snap out of it!"