by Heather Plett | Feb 23, 2009 | Leadership, navel-gazing
I’m walking in downtown Toronto and I spot an art supply store. My heart does a little pitter-pat as I remember that I’ve been there before – it was one of my “stand and gaze and dream about being an artist” moments. I left the store with nothing. This time, feeling emboldened by my recent achievement, I walk in proudly, determined to buy at least a couple of tubes of watercolour. I feel like an artist as I peruse the shelves, looking for the right shades for my next project. I’m glowing with excitement as I lay my items on the counter and reach for my wallet. I feel powerful.
Then the cell phone rings. I find out that I messed up an important date – the facilitators I’d hired for a workshop on Wednesday are actually coming on Tuesday. I’d sent them the wrong date. Now I have a hoarde of people coming from across the country for a two day meeting, and the itinerary I sent out is all screwed up. And the handful of people who are coming (from the local area) just for Wednesday might not be able to come if their schedules aren’t flexible. My mood drops. I’ve screwed up. My self-talk has taken a drastic turn and I’m not an artist anymore. I’m not a leader either. I am a failure.
Wallowing in self-doubt, I leave the store and wander down the street. I enter another store and meander through the sales racks. The store clerk spots my art supply store bag. “Are you an artist?” he asks. I pause for a moment, ready to say “no, I’m really not,” but then something inside me rises up and I straighten my shoulders a little. “Yes, I am.” “What do you do?” he asks. “Watercolour,” I say. “So far.” “I’m an artist too,” he says. “Mostly I do Chinese form of art.”
I leave the store, and though not entirely recovered from the phone call, I feel at least a little buoyed by my first opportunity to call myself an artist.
I am constantly amazed at how quickly self-talk can whirl in an about-face direction.
How do you define yourself today? Or break it down to this very moment? Artist or failure?
by Heather Plett | Jan 28, 2009 | fearless, Leadership
Just so you don’t think I’ve mastered this fearlessness thing, I’m also going to try to post about the times when I don’t feel fearless at all. Like today. There’s some fallout or follow-through from the staff retreat over the weekend. Some people saw it as an invitation to open up old wounds to try to find healing for them. I’m not all that good at dealing with old wounds. Mostly I want to stick a bandaid over them and forget about them. But other people feel differently, and so I have to try to honour them.
Today I have a meeting that I’m not looking forward to. I suspect that some of it may be about the places where I’ve fallen short as a leader and probably even places where I’ve been the one to do the hurting. I don’t want to hear about it. I just want to pretend everything is alright and move on into the future.
I’ve stolen a quote I found on Olivia’s blog and printed it, along with her lovely dragon picture to hang on the wall beside my computer. I want to believe that the person who wants to confront me, a person whom I’ve sometimes let myself be intimidated by, is just a vulnerable soul like me.
“Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.”–Rainer Maria Rilke
And now I’m going to go for a walk and practice my apologies, my humility, and my boldness… “I’m sorry I hurt you.” “I would like to ask you to address this directly next time, instead of letting it fester.” “Please remember that we are all human and horribly fallible.”
Update: The meeting is over. I am completely drained from the hard work of old wounds, fresh perspectives, other versions of truth, moving past the hurt, and living at peace with people whose world view is significantly different from one’s own. Most of the hurts had not been inflicted by me, but as leader, I am at least somewhat implicated.
This “leading with integrity and boldness” thing? It’s hard, HARD work.
by Heather Plett | Jan 27, 2009 | fearless, Leadership
Note: My word for the year is “fearless”. Throughout the year, I’m going to write periodic posts about my attempts to live a little more fearlessly. The introductory post and video can be seen here.
I fingered the silk patchwork jacket. My heart did a little pitter-patter in my chest. I wanted it. Badly. I’d often pictured myself wearing just such a garment. Colourful, eclectic, bohemian, artistic, bold, sassy – it said so many things about the wearer that I wanted to be able to say about myself.
I took a deep breath and checked the price. It was on sale. Less than half price. Almost what I could justify spending. Almost. But not quite. Still a little too much for our cash-strapped budget. Besides, did I really deserve something that extravagant? I left it on the rack and wandered the rest of the store, looking for something a little more affordable.
My feet kept taking me back to the clothing rack, however. Finally, after trying on rings, fingering scarves, and draping inexpensive bags over my shoulder, I took the jacket off the hanger. I had to at least try it on.
When I gazed at myself in the mirror, I knew I couldn’t leave the store without owning this jacket. In a few hours, I would fly home, and this would be my only chance. I needed to take it home. It spoke to me. It made me feel at least a little like the fearless and artistic woman I dreamed of being. “Don’t bother putting it in the bag,” I said to the cashier, “I’ll wear it. I have an important meeting to go to and I need a little boost.” And then I nearly skipped out of the store.
A few days later, packing for another trip – this time a little closer to home – I put the colourful jacket into my suitcase. It was a little dressy for the staff retreat I’d be attending, but I didn’t care. I needed the boost of colour and boldness.
I didn’t wear it for the first two days. Neither of those days called for bold, bohemian, or sassy. Neither of those days challenged my perception of myself quite as much as the third day – the day when everyone else would go home and leave me alone to lead my team through some difficult and possibly painful discussions. It was the day that would surely put my desire for fearlessness to the test.
In the morning, I went for breakfast in my new jacket. “That’s quite the jacket. Looks a little like Joseph,” said one of my staff members. “Yup,” I said, “it’s my coat of many colours.” “You remember what happened to Joseph, don’t you?” he chuckled. “Yes, he grew to be a bold and powerful leader,” I said, straightening my shoulders a little. “Yeah, but long before that, he got thrown in a pit. Let’s just say he had some road bumps along the way.”
Road bumps. Yes, that seemed appropriate. This was the day for road bumps. Possibly even the day that I’d get thrown in the pit.
Later that morning, as we prepared for the hard work of the day ahead, I glanced around the room. The tension was tangible – you could read it in the way people sat. None of us really wanted to be there. None of us trusted the other people in the room enough to believe that this day could have positive results. Though nobody was openly hostile, after years of treating each other with some measure of distrust and mild disdain, mixed in with a little unhealthy passive aggressiveness, we weren’t bringing our best efforts to the table anymore. To call us a “team” was generous – we were more like a dysfunctional “group” working on the same things but not really pulling together. I couldn’t help but wonder how much of that I had responsibility for, as their leader. There were definitely other factors – like remote staff spread across the country, unique and sometimes challenging personalities, gender biases, age biases, etc. – but in the wee hours of the morning, when I carried the weight of self-doubt, I wondered what I could have done differently these five years to turn this around.
When the facilitator passed the figurative baton to me, I swallowed a gulp of air, and wrapped the jacket a little tighter around my chest. “I’m not sure where to start,” I said, “but I’ve been doing a little thinking, and I need to tell you about that. I’ve been thinking we have a bunch of great people on the team, but I’ve also been thinking we’re really suffering, and we’re not doing nearly enough to support each other. We’re sabotaging each other, we’re not trusting each other, and we’re not taking risks together. We have to do something about it.”
For the next half hour, I took a bold and vulnerable step and laid my cards on the table. I told them about my personal doubt about being an effective leader. I told them of the many times somebody had come to me to tell me of the hurt they were suffering because of another member of the team. I told them of the times we’d fallen far short of our potential because we weren’t working together. I told them if we didn’t change, we would cease to be relevant.
When I ended, the room was silent. I looked around at the faces to see what they would feed back to me. Would there be hostility? Hurt? Withdrawal? I had no idea what to anticipate.
After a few brief comments, the facilitator encouraged us to take a coffee break. I longed to run back to the shelter of my room. Instead I sipped tea and tried to make small talk while avoiding people’s eyes.
When we returned to the meeting room, there was almost an audible collective sigh as people settled into their chairs a little more comfortably than before. One by one, they began to open up. “I’m glad you said the things you did. It’s hard to hear, but we need to hear it to move on.” “I’d like to acknowledge that I have been hurt and I know that I have hurt others, but I want to try harder.” “I wish we could work on a greater level of trust and respect.” “I could do better work if I knew my team-mates were behind me.”
Throughout the day, there continued to be a gradual softening in people’s posture and their words. There were gentle but difficult truths offered up. There were risks taken. There was respect offered. There was accountability and positive challenge. All of these things had been lacking in our meetings up until that point. So many times we’d sat with the elephant in the room, all of us afraid to speak of it.
At the end of the day, I returned to my room weary but full. Full of the goodness I’d seen in people I’d stopped caring for and stopped trusting. Full of the respect I’d been given when I put myself out there in a raw and honest way. Full of the new light I’d begun to see in people’s eyes.
As I removed my colourful jacket, I wondered, “is this how Joseph felt when he was rescued from the pit and began a journey that would see him rise to more powerful leadership than he could have imagined?”
by Heather Plett | Dec 8, 2008 | Leadership
I’m sorry to keep you all in suspense, but after an intense couple of days of board meetings and presentations, I kinda crashed. And then it was a busy weekend, so I didn’t spend much time on the computer.
What I did was mostly D with a little bit of E thrown in just because I’m human and SO not perfect. I calmly but firmly said to him “No, I don’t believe that the problem with most non-profits – and the reason they have trouble getting the word out – is that their communicators and educators are mostly young, female, and have nothing but a degree in literature, I believe that the problem is that these young talented individuals are not given enough respect by the leaders of these organizations (that’s the passive aggressive part – I meant HIM). The problem is that their work is valued less than the work of the programmers.”
And then the next day, because I realized I was giving it too much brain space so it clearly still bothered me and was important enough to follow up, I sent him an email outlining why it concerned me and how I wished he would be able to offer me and my colleagues enough respect so that we could work together on a more equal playing field. And I cc’d it to my boss and the chairperson of the board, because I wanted him to take it seriously and not just brush it off as just another whiny female who’s got her knickers in a knot.
Now I’m back at my computer and there is no reply from anyone. And the suspense is now killing ME!
I’ve worked in enough fields where I’m one of the only women at the management or board table that I’ve gotten used to holding my own when it comes to the odd bit of chauvinism. It’s really not that prevelant anymore and what does exist is so marginalized by the honourable men in the room that I can brush it off. Just like in parenting though, you’ve got to pick your battles. I figure when the chauvinism masks a bully underneath, then it’s worth standing up to.
by Heather Plett | Nov 21, 2008 | Leadership
With all my office packing done (and nothing for me to do at work, since my computer is wrapped in bubble wrap), I took the day off today and took myself out on a little artist’s date to a local retreat centre. Mostly I was there to do some writing, but while there I also had some fun with glue, construction paper, and old magazines. When I’m trying to imagine a new project, it’s fun to step away from it for awhile and let my artist-child come out to play. Sometimes great truths can be found when you’re paging through old magazines looking for fun things to glue onto a collage.
I’ve done this activity at leadership and teambuilding workshops sometimes. It’s rather delightful getting a bunch of business people down on the floor, throwing some old magazines around the room, giving them scissors and glue and telling them “get creative, imagine the future, and then tell me what surprises you find in your collage.”
Here are a few clues about what I’m working on.
If, by looking at those little cryptic messages, you guessed “she’s writing a book!” then you would be correct! If you guessed that it’s about art and life and passion and reimagining truth, then you’d also be right. For more clues, you could check out answer #4 in the blog post below this one.
It feels a little scary to admit it, but there it is, out in the open. Now that I said it, I guess I’ll have to actually live up to it and produce something one of these days, or you’ll all call me a liar.
Take a deep breath… and here we go…
by Heather Plett | Nov 19, 2008 | Leadership, random
Just what you were looking for…
1. How do you put up with 2 kids that are puking AND whining and not just climb back into bed and lock them out of the bedroom?
Ha! If I had the answer to THAT, I could write a parenting book, make millions, and then hire you a nanny so you could lock the bedroom door for a few hours.
Seriously, just like every other mom I know, I just muddled through (and continue to muddle through) and gritted my teeth through the really rough spots.
2. Your life seems very full – you have kids, work, craft, travel….how do you find time for just yourself? What do you do to relax?
Yeah, my life sometimes seems impossibly full, but despite that, I’m actually fairly good at finding time for myself – partly because I have pathetically low standards for some of the things other women excel at, like cleaning house and actually putting the folded laundry back into dresser drawers. (That’s what laundry tables are for – just line everything up in piles for every member of the family and let them fend for themselves.) Part of the reason I’m quite fond of my business travel is that it allows me guilt-free time to do some of my favourite things, like wandering, reading, taking pictures, and spending uninterrupted time in a bookstore. The other thing that helps me find time for relaxation is the fact that I have a really cool husband who is very much an equal partner on the home front – he does most of the cooking and lots of the cleaning and stays more on top of things like what forms are due at school and who has a soccer practice each night – and who sends me out the door when it’s clear that I need some “me time”. One of the other things I do, when the world seems to be unraveling, is take my journal to my son’s grave and write whatever comes to mind. (Sometimes I wish my dad’s grave were closer so I could do it there too.)
3. You’ve traveled all over the world, but where’s one place you haven’t and would love to?
Here are the countries I’ve been to: Canada, U.S., Mexico, Kenya, Tanzania, Ethiopia, India, Bangladesh, England, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, Greece, France, Holland, and Spain.
And a few of the countries I want to visit some day: Brazil, South Africa, Thailand, Turkey, Kuala Lumpur (I know that last one is kinda random, but I loved the book Democracy by Joan Didion and that was the first time I ever heard of Kuala Lumpur. I’ve been intrigued ever since.)
4. What do you love to write about most?
Funny you should ask – I’ve been working on building my own website lately (because I want to build up my freelance career in writing and leadership consulting) and I’ve been wrestling with trying to find my “unique voice” so I know what I most want to sell myself as. I’ve done alot of different kinds of writing (poetry, drama, essays, research articles, lots and lots of business writing, and I’ve even written a novel), but I think in recent years, my favourite thing to write would fit in the category of personal essay. If I were to narrow that down even further, I think I would say essays about issues such as social justice, leadership, experiences in other cultures, and unique approaches to spirituality. (I’d love to turn this question around, though – what do YOU most like about what I write?)
5. In your experience, what are most important ingredients necessary for a creative writing workshop?
Ooo… Stephanie, you ask GOOD questions! I think some of the most important ingredients are:
– enough freedom to write in the voice that’s most comfortable, but enough challenge to test voices outside of your comfort zone
– trust among the participants and instructor – that they can respect each other’s unique perspectives and world views
– unique, outside-the-box writing exercises (one of my favourites was a brown bag exercise where each participant was given a brown bag with a few things inside that they had to incorporate into a piece of writing)
– an instructor (or facilitator) who knows the “rules” but is confident enough to know the right time to break them
– an instructor who provides some constructive ideas for how to use/share your writing and challenges people to get good writing out into the world
6. What I want to know is, how does having a cold or allergies affect that nose ring?
The nose ring really has little affect on my life, even when I have a cold. Once you get used to it, it’s pretty easy to blow your nose, wash your face, etc.. Now and then you have to pick the boogers off the little curved wire in the inside (is that too much information?), but it’s really not a big deal. I’ve never regretted it, and the only time it has caused me discomfort was the time shortly after I got it that I caught my ring on it while washing my face in the shower. Ouch.
7. You have a nose ring?
Why, yes… yes I do! I got it on my 4oth birthday (2 and a half years ago) just for fun. I’d wanted to get one back in my twenties, but chickened out because I didn’t think I had the right nose for it (my friend had a lovely regal nose and just seemed to suit it so well) AND I was much too concerned about what people thought of me back then. By 40, I was much more comfortable in my skin and no longer cared as much about what my nose looked like or what other people thought, so I went for it. Call it delayed gratification. 🙂 (Julie is trying to convince me that at 50, I need to get a tattoo. We shall see.)
8. Who’s your favourite sister-in-law?
Well, it’s ccap, don’t ya know? 🙂 (For those who don’t get it, my sister is also my sister-in-law, and since I only have one sister, that seemed like the most politically correct choice.) Truthfully, though, I’m rather found of all of them, INCLUDING YOU, ACCIDENTAL POET/HOUSEWIFE/CANDLE CARVER/BEAUTIFUL WOMAN WHO MARRIED MY TECHNOGEEK BROTHER! (Yes, you’re beautiful, despite what my bumbling 15 year old self once said to you!)
9. Who’s the favourite man in your life?
Why that would be YOU, Mr. Anonymous, a.k.a. Studmuffin Husband!
That was fun. Any more questions?
