I feel like I’m losing my mind from the mega-buzz surrounding mindfulness lately. Many companies, including Google and Target, are investing in mindfulness training for their employees. The National Institute of Health is pouring millions to research the effect of mindfulness on depression, obesity, and even the common cold. Even the journal American Psychologist devoted its most recent special issue to the emergence of mindfulness in psychological science. The few of us uninitiated souls may wonder what this is all about, and even wonder what mindfulness is. Well here it is: Mindfulness is any practice used to focus on an object, such as one’s breath or a point in space, and then become aware when one’s mind has wandered, and then bring awareness back to the object. In other words: meditation.
A dear colleague and I were talking at lunch about the usual subjects – our work, our families, the miserable state of the world. We commiserated about our aging parents growing more frail. I said, “It is what it is,” and my friend replied, “No it isn’t.” I repeated, “Yes, it is what it is,” and she repeated, “No it isn’t.” After a few more rounds of this craziness, I said that though it may be cliché, the phrase indicates acceptance of a particular situation. She countered that this might be true in some cases, but that I should listen more carefully.
Twenty-six participants from twelve different countries! That’s what David and I found awaited us when we landed recently in Frankfurt (Germany, not Kentucky) to teach a leadership workshop. We fretted: Would we be seen as ‘super-power’ imperialists imposing American leadership principles on them? Would we be accused of cultural insensitivity, not realizing that real football is played with your feet? Would we even understand their accents? What we discovered was earthshaking in its obviousness. While our participants came from Lebanon, Russia, Portugal, Ireland, and many other countries, each one happened to be a member of the human race. Further, each was a member of a subspecies of that race – they were middle managers from a complex global corporation.
When clients proclaim, ‘we’ve got to hold people more accountable’ I can’t help but smile. Why? Because the declaration, itself, displays such a lack of accountability. ‘We’ve got to’ diffuses any responsibility for taking action. But imagine if the speaker said, “I’ve got to hold people more accountable.” Then we’d be getting someplace. The first step to holding others accountable is to hold oneself accountable, and most of us believe we do so. But even the most powerful leaders among us often take on the mindset of victim, the enemy of accountability.
Kevin sagged when he recounted his past few years as president of a troubled division of a major insurance company. “I’m damaged goods,” he started. “I loved my career until they promoted me to turn around this failing unit. I became a real jerk. I screamed at people. I was called a bloodthirsty mercenary by the press. I downsized so many people that employees here called me Darth Vader. Heck, I wouldn’t even work for me anymore.” I was struck by Kevin’s searing self-criticism. I know him as a strong, yet humane leader with a great track record and a strategic viewpoint. In fact, his turnaround efforts were acknowledged by outsiders as both necessary and successful. How could he be drawing such negative conclusions about himself despite such a long history of success?
I met with the head of the European region right after a daylong meeting of a global leadership team. I asked what he thought of the decisions the team had made. He said the meeting was “the usual nonsense. We nod our heads, and go back to our parts of the world and do whatever we want.” Another client, the leader of an IT function, was told to reduce headcount by 20% but not miss deadlines on high priority projects. Despite disagreeing with the wisdom of the decision, she laid off eight programmers. She then hired a flotilla of temporary programmers to meet her schedule targets. This ended up costing more and led to lower morale of the remaining employees.
“I’m stuck…. I can’t move,” my friend stammered, as he stood frozen trying to exit my open front door. Brent has Parkinson’s, a neurological disease that sends conflicting messages within his brain. One part of his brain knew the door was a safe passage to home. Yet at the same time, another part of his brain perceived the door as a dangerous open window. This part of the brain sends directives to his legs to either stop or go. After an awkward moment, Brent took surprising action. Leading with his head, he forced himself to fall forward through the doorway. His legs responded by trying desperately to catch up with his falling torso. And they did. Safely outside, he turned to me and said sheepishly, “Sometimes my brain has a mind of its own.” Though I don’t have Parkinson’s, I’m all too familiar with times when my mind interferes with what my brain knows I should do. I rationally know that I should exercise daily, but my mind tells me that there are more important things to do. And at work, there are times when my brain knows I should be bold and confront my coaching clients, yet my mind
I was recently exploring a new coaching relationship with a high achieving, successful executive. Paul insisted that he wanted to ‘bring his game to another level’ and thought I might be a catalyst for his professional development. As I listened to his background and his amazing career trajectory a funny thought occurred to me: I wished I was him! He was outgoing, unpretentious, self-aware, and possibly the least neurotic person I’ve met in a long time. I wondered how I could possibly support him. Then he told me a story about one of the vice presidents who reported to him.