Communication

I like to joke that I get help for everything.

I see a therapist, a coach, a trainer.

My life is better because of their help.

It’s the beauty of getting older. I no longer need to be the best at everything or do it alone.

All of the above are hired help. Every day, life gets better yet when we invite un-hired guidance.

The moment we ask, collaborative energy gets released. Collaborative good will kicks into motion. Helping energy accelerates success. Ours – and that of the person we ask.

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I just spent a marvelous training week with a group of business colleagues in Chicago.

We always explore how we PUSH/PULL.

In my universe, this is code-talk about how we influence a conversation.

PUSH = I send energy to the other person.

PULL = I draw energy from the other person.

But today I invite you to think of how you summon your personal energy, whether there is someone else there or not.

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I saw my dentist this week.

A simple crown adjustment. A minor visit.

Dr. Fishner wasn’t there, so Dr. Schwartz took care of me.

Both are fine dentists. Both are likeable human beings.

And I liked Dr. Schwartz better.

I knew it within seconds. I was startled by this insight because Dr. Fishner is my regular dentist, and I like Dr. Fishner a lot.

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It is so simple. It is always available to us. 

And we forget.

The shift from our clever-thinking-mind back into the body.

The move forward through our body.

When a business conversation suddenly gets stuck. When we start playing verbal ping pong with another person and are determined to win the point. When we want to shut up and simply don’t know how.

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I spent 9 days in Cuba last month.

Many stories to tell.

Yes, I engaged in some of the expected activities. Strolled through Havana Vieja, retracing Ernest Hemingway’s steps. Listened to infectious live music every day. Indulged in a slew of sumptuous meals prepared in the home-grown paladares, beacons of a nascent Cuban entrepreneurialism.

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Hopped into my car last Wednesday and headed across Alligator Alley to Naples, on the West Coast of Florida.

6 of us gathered to break bread and kick around some ideas. Ted Coine, Suzanne Daigle, Shawn Murphy, Susan Mazza, Mark Babbitt. And me. Cherished business colleagues. Becoming friends.

This is the important part.

We came together because we wanted to. No other reason.

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I spent the entire last week in Cuba. Stories to tell.

I enjoyed many things – but none more, perhaps, than the spirit of the Cuban people I encountered.

The docent at the Ambos Mundos Hotel in Havana Vieja whose comments illumined the artifacts in Hemingway’s room at the hotel.

The old female singer at the Hotel Nacional who performed with members of The Buena Vista Social Club, her passion palpable and yet instantly ironic as she wiggled and writhed in her slinky black dress.

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Some people see. Other people see more.

Eric sees more.

Eric is Eric Garcetti, the 6-months-in-office mayor of Los Angeles. At the age of 43, he is one of the youngest mayors of a major global city.

I comfortably make my Eric-sees-more claim – because, well, we have evidence of what Eric sees. Eric is an obsessed, or shall I say obsessive, photographer. He snaps daily pics with his Samsung Galaxy S4 phone and feeds them, via Instagram, to the world.

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I spent four days in Chicago last week, hosting a leadership program.

I enjoyed my group immensely. The energy was good.

That’s my language of choice, of course. I’m a personal-energy-guy. I love “good energy.”

As we said our good-byes, however, quite a few of the folks in our group also commented that “the energy was good.” That moved me. It wasn’t just me. The energy WAS good. And it was felt.

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