Safety training required

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: in your communications toolbox, humor is a dangerous tool. It should not be handled by amateurs!

I just returned from a Spring Break rite of passage: college tours with my high school junior. It is not my first time at this rodeo, so quite possibly I am listening with jaded ears. But far too many of the information sessions run by adults from the admissions office, as well as tours given by students, seemed to rely on "humor" as a needless way to bond with us. No bonding is necessary when your audience is there voluntarily, and for such a short time. We all played along and dutifully chuckled at the weak jokes. There was one person out of the ten we encountered this way who wielded her humor like a pro. I suspect she had previous training in stand-up comedy, and I am sure she had practiced her "routine" several times in front of an audience. She even made one or two of the "laugh lines" we had heard before sound fresh and new. But her comedy got in the way of her information delivery. To set up a joke takes time--and timing. Even one-liners have a certain rhythm, and need to be placed just so in your patter to work. Other content gets neglected at the expense of successful humor. Afterwards, I realized that this info session had actually given fewer of the basic facts than any other.

We did not travel hundreds of miles to be be entertained. We could have gotten better comedy from dozens of venues closer to home. We wanted information, we wanted to see what differentiated one school from another, we wanted a small slice of the experience of being members of that college community (because parents are very valued--if remote--members). It should have been about us and our experience. Not about how funny the representatives of the schools were. "Mom, Dad, I want to go here because the Assistant Dean of Admissions is a mediocre comedian," said No One.

Sadly, this desire to "entertain," this need to "break the ice" and "bond" with a group instantly, in a forced, synthetic way, is not limited to college tours. I have many clients who insist on starting with a joke. "Oh yes, that always works for me!" they tell me. Because who is going to let them know after the fact that their jokes fell flat, or needlessly slowed down the momentum of their presentations? Only the coach you hire to help you. Even a trained comedian saves her jokes for the appropriate venue. She does not subject innocent bystanders to them in her day job. And if you are not trained? Here's a quote from a friend who is a comedian: "I'll make a deal with you, I won't stand up here and do your job if you won't go back to the office and do mine!"

If you want to do comedy, take a class, then find a stage. If you want to communicate, find out what your audience wants, then give it to them.

Accept no substitutes!

The world I live in today is one I could not have imagined as a child. Oh sure, The Jetsons had video chat (I have Skype) and Rosie-the-Robot (think Roomba with attitude). And my reality now is that today's technology has given me some great tools to make my life easier, though I am still waiting for my personal jetpack! But more than once I have found myself in discussion with digital natives trying to explain that just because technology is allowing us to do something faster, farther, longer, it is not neccessarily helping us do that thing better.  Or, as parents and teachers everywhere are fond of pointing out: Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should.

I am usually talking about communication. Don't get me wrong: I do agree that our current ability to see, speak with, and listen to people around the world has undoubtedly enriched us. But that is no reason to underestimate the importance of old school, same-time-and-place interaction. As a speaker trainer and public speaking coach, I am always reminding my clients of this. I cannot overstate the importance of non-verbal messages and feedback to achieving real connection. We need to share the moment with someone to truly communicate. High-stakes meetings are always face-to-face because there really is no substitute for being together (and if you don't believe me, ask Manti Te'o).

So I read with interest an op-ed in yesterday's New York Times by psychologist Barbara Fredrickson.  She shares recent research she has done on the cost of our almost umbilical attachment to devices with screens. As with any habit, she says, our reliance on this digital connection "molds the very structure of your brain in ways that strengthen your proclivity for that habit." What she found was somewhat surprising: when we text at dinner rather than talk to our dinner companions, when we follow news discussions on twitter instead of engaging with other news consumers, when we send e-mails to co-workers instead of walking down the hall, we are not just being lazy or rude. We could actually be doing harm to our long-term health!

Dr. Fredrickson explains the how and why of this in her article, but the crux of the matter is that when we ignore our capacities to connect and empathize we could be doing real physical damage: "In short, the more attuned to others you become, the healthier you become, and vice versa . . . When you share a smile or laugh with someone face to face, a discernible synchrony emerges between you, as your gestures and biochemistries, even your respective neural firings, come to mirror each other. It’s micro-moments like these, in which a wave of good feeling rolls through two brains and bodies at once, that build your capacity to empathize as well as to improve your health."

Personal interaction: highly effective and good for you.
And now we have the science to prove it!

The power of story

TED | Facebook www.facebook.com

It seems everyone is watching TEDTalks online these days. I wish I had more time to enjoy these fantastic presentations! So many talks, so little time...

As a public speaking/presentation skills coach, I love to see the different speaking styles of the experts. Many of them are coached extensively before they present, and mentored by former successful TED speakers.  It is no coincidence that TEDTalks describes these as "performances!" Online you see the cream of the crop, but if you were to attend a TED conference, you would probably see some not-quite-so-polished speakers. One of them, Nilofer Merchant blogs about what happened when she "didn’t deliver a seriously kick-ass talk" her first time around. She shares the lessons learned, and how she is applying them as she works on her successful comeback. This is valuable information for anyone prepping for any sort of talk. Merchant stresses that this time around, she has coaches and advisors to turn to when she has questions on content and delivery.

TED stands for technology, entertainment and design. It started out almost 30 years ago as a live conference to explore the intersections of those three worlds. Today, the magic of global internet allows us all to witness the lessons shared by speakers who see the world differently than we do, have made discoveries we would never dream of, have lived lives we cannot imagine. And throughout its long career, TED has relied on storytelling to get these lessons across.

What I especially love about the whole concept of TEDTalks, and the wonderful new NPR show TED Radio Hour  is also the answer to last week's Radio Hour episode title: Do We Need Humans? The answer is YES! We need humans to tell us their stories. Every successful TEDTalk you see or hear is a good story, well-told. Personal narrative is included, but it does not overwhelm the message. It acts to contextualize it, or underscores the reason for the speaker's discovery or theory, relying on data gleaned through personal experience. My favorite talk this week is TED 2013 Prize winner Sugata Mitra's vision of education for the future. The stories he shares make him a more credible expert, his message accessible to the audience. He wraps up his findings and hypothesis with the story of how he came to be interested in exploring this type of learning. He draws us in and we are fascinated.

Humans have learned from story since before we had written language. Mitra says that "knowing" is what distinguishes us from the apes. But I say it is storytelling.

Ginger vs. Sheryl

As regular readers of this blog know, clients comes to me to develop their own authentic leadership presence. They come from various management and executive positions, and I have several who are running for elected office. Since these particular clients have all been women so far, I am always on the lookout for information that deals with how women win elections. Some terrific new research from the Barbara Lee Family Foundation shows that when women run, the perceptions of "qualification" and "likeability" are inextricably linked.

 
 

Interesting, when you think about it. We'll vote for a man if we think he is qualified, even if we don't really like him. But a woman . . . ? Voters want the reassurance that she will be approachable and "like us." Because she needs to be even better than the man to win our vote. Like Ginger Rogers, who did everything Fred Astaire did, backwards -- and in heels!

It is difficult, however, to project the authority, expertise, vision, and character needed to be a leader, while keeping a foot in the "likeability" camp. Some people just seem more "likeable" than others, due to accidents of physiognomy or physical stature. Hillary Clinton, who has the traditional round cheeks associated with a "friendly" face, had to work so hard to prove her qualifications when she ran for President in 2008 that she was deemed only  "likeable enough" by then-Senator Obama in a debate!

There is lots of good commentary out there about Sheryl Sandberg's Lean In, so I won't add my two cents. I haven't read it yet (though that has not stopped others from passing judgement), but I have read many other books on women's leadership. And it seems that in arenas other than elected office, experts are telling women that they need to seize more authority. Act more like leaders, less like peers. Run the risk of being "not liked" to get to the top. Very different advice.

So--what's a woman to do? There are general trends, but no hard and fast rules. Because when it comes to leadership there are many variables, aside from what you see on a resume: position sought (elected vs. corporate), gender (it will be fascinating to see what transgender leaders will bring to the mix), physical package (tall women have a whole different set of issues than short men). 

It is good to read the books and look at the research; they give you the knowledge to formulate some ideas of how you will climb the leadership mountain. Then look for someone to help you: a professional guide for your particular journey toward authentic leadership. It's a jungle out there. Don't go it alone!

Extro-intro-ambi

Most of the really good actors I know do not have large egos, nor are they super-outgoing or showy. In other words, they are not full-blown extroverts. They are more likely to be introverts, or "situational" extroverts. But they are not motivated by shyness or fear; they do not dedicate themselves to acting so they can "lose themselves" or "hide" behind their roles. Rather, they are gifted people whom life has taught to be good listeners, as well as close observers who can follow others' social cues. These actors combine heightened awareness of the world around them with courage, fearlessness, and a rejection of "playing it safe." So they probably fall somewhere in between extroversion and introversion. They are ambiverts.
The talented and self-effacing Ang Lee
Great directors are this way, too. I was in grad school with Ang Lee, who is famous for making tremendously ambitious films (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon; Brokeback Mountain; Life of Pi, to name a few). He is also known for relying upon a strong work ethic to execute his keen artistic vision, all while being quietly, yet unfailingly, generous to his cast and crew. He remains, as he was at the University of Illinois, the guiding light who is willing to let others star in his show.

Writer and thought-leader Daniel Pink wrote a column for the Washington Post in late January about these best-of-both world people, these ambiverts. He wasn't talking about actors, or directors, but leaders. I found his logic for upending the conventional wisdom (the best leader is a people-person, is larger-than-life, etc.) compelling, so I thought I would share it with you:

"When we choose leaders. . . we're understandably drawn to the gregarious, friendly types with their comfortable patter and ready smiles. But are they really the best? We'd be far better off with those who take a more calibrated approach - who can talk smoothly but also listen keenly, who know when to turn on the charm but also when to turn it off, who combine the extrovert's assertiveness with the introvert's quiet confidence."

Something to think about next time we select new leaders, or set our  sights on new leadership positions for ourselves!

We can be the way we were

Kevin Winter/Getty Images . . It was thrilling to hear Shirley Bassey and Barbra Streisand sing at last night's Oscar ceremony! Those brilliant performances contrasted sharply with the rest of the show,  which often lapsed into sophomoric tastelessness (see this review at The New Yorker online).

And it was pretty exciting to see someone I actually knew (way back when) take home an Oscar. Ang Lee and I overlapped in the Theatre Department at the University of Illinois where he was doing an M.A. in Theatre and I was a first year M.F.A. student. It was good to see such a talented, genuinely nice guy win!

But the highpoint for me was the wonderful singing by those two veterans who obviously did it for love of their community -- because neither of them needs to self-promote. Shirley Bassey is Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire, and Barbra Streisand is, well... Barbra Streisand!

And they sounded so good. Two more examples of how the voice can stay healthy and strong for a lifetime. As I tell my clients, your voice does not have to age if you take care of it. And experts back me up on this. What we often perceive as the inevitable "sounding old" may be a reflection of other poor health habits or overall illness. Voices can stay strong if we do not abuse them and continue to exercise them to maintain strength and flexibility.

Now I can't promise that when you turn 70 you will croon like Babs, or be able to belt like Shirley at 74. But if you support your voice now, exercise it and keep it "in shape" you should sound "mahvelous" for a lifetime! (And can we please have Billy Crystal back to host the Oscars?)

Can you hear me now?

I had to laugh when I heard the title of Katherine Bouton's new book, Shouting Won't Help: Why I -- and 50 Million Other Americans-- Can't Hear You.  It reminded me of that classic joke: Q: How do you sell a deaf guy a duck? A: (Yelling) WANNA BUY A DUCK?  But joking aside, it sounds like Bouton's book gives lots of information we will need as more and more of us develop auditory deficits. These days hearing loss occurs early and often, due to factors ranging from extreme environmental noise to personal sound systems that live in our ears.

So how do we communicate when we can't hear -- or understand -- one another? Many of us do not regularly interact with members of the deaf community. But we do try (and often fail) to communicate with people who cannot "hear" us. Volume isn't the only problem. Some people try the ineffective shouting technique with those who don't speak their language as well as those whose ability to hear is limited. Or speakers just repeat what they have said, thinking that eventually they will be understood. I can see why you might do this once -- if there's a chance your listener did not understand because you were mumbling, or the phone connection deteriorated, etc. But repeating the same phrases over and over again (especially in response to an "I don't understand" from your listener) does not further communications.

I had a week of such dead-ended exchanges with "customer service" representatives of my insurance company, as well as "support" departmenets of various companies I have been dealing with regarding all things internet. Some of these folks were responding to me via the ironically named "chat" line where the repetition of written instructions, in response to specific questions of mine, was maddening. Did they just press "copy+paste" each time I posed a new query? My current webhost, on the other hand, is very good at reading my questions and responding. They seem to have been taught the "tricks of the trade." They respond as if they consulted a communications professional.  They engage in best practices to ensure clear communication with their less techno-savvy clients: listen to the question, think about it in your terms, do a quick mental translation, then rephrase the question in language you think the questioner will understand, and ask "is that is what you mean?"

Let's face it, we all interact with people who use words and phrases differently. Each profession has its code, jargon, or just a way of describing things that is particular to that group. Families have buzz-words that non-family members do not understand. Different generations certainly speak different languages. And yet, how often do we assume that just because members of a certain group all grew up speaking English they "naturally" understand each another.

So don't be like the man selling the duck! Put on your thinking cap and make yourself understood.

The "boredom" trap

I was teaching my beginning acting class last week and I was surprised by an answer of "boredom" to the question: in your daily life, what most gets in the way of your concentration and focus? Usually when I ask students this the first answer offered is "distraction." When we tease that out, we discover that the listener can find ways to block out distractions, or put them on the back-burner in order to focus on the matter at hand. But naming "boredom" as a reason is shifting the burden from us ("I need to try to make some connections so I can concentrate") to others ("if the speaker is boring I lose interest.")

It is true that as an acting teacher and a speaker-trainer, I tell my students and clients they must Never Be Boring. Giving listeners even half a chance to be bored can block effective communication. And so it is up to actors and speakers to make sure it never happens. But I also know that the excuse of being bored is one that comes too easily to many folks who expect to be constantly entertained and stimulated. As I used to say to my kids (and as my mother said to me), "You can't be bored; find something to do." Or as I told my acting students. "if you're bored, that's on you." And I am in good company: I heard legendary jazz musician Wayne Shorter say this in an NPR interview over the  weekend: "When you say something's boring, that means you haven't even scratched the surface of something. And boring is a trademark of being arrogant and complacent."

Onstage, you can never be bored! To successfully portray a character you need to think like that character. Get inside her skin. And go even further - be aware of even his subconscious thoughts. You do this by surrendering your immediate (actor) needs to the character's needs. And for that, you need to be able to identify the character's objective (what she wants) and how she fulfills it (what she does to get what she wants). It's not about you, you see. You are embodying the character, and playwrights never create bored characters (boredom may be a secondary emotional state but it's never a primary one).

But we know sometimes we lose sight even of our own objectives, so isn't it that much more challenging to stay on track with the objectives of a fictional construct? Yes. That is why you need to constantly find something to engage in: a memory, a smell, a reaction to another character.

Mothers are right. Don't fall into the trap of lazy excuses; find something to do (and mentally exercising definitely qualifies).  That's a lesson for anyone who wants to be an effective communicator - onstage at a theatre or on the stage of Life! 

Life lessons from the swim meet

Our new Aquatics Center, opening fall 2013. WKArchitect sketch, www.apsva.com

I was timing for my son's high school District Swim meet on Saturday. Day One had been cancelled due to "inclement weather" on Friday and so everything was rolled into a super-sized meet on Day Two. Unlike regular season meets, swimmers for all eight teams were competing; there were hundreds! The scene inside the pool could have been described as controlled chaos. Certainly anyone susceptible to sensory overload would not have lasted very long. The space was filled with humid heat and glaring light, echoing with voices, music, loud whistles, cheers. I was timing, and as evening turned into night, I really needed to concentrate on what I was doing. I needed to prompt myself to be "in the moment" on more than one occasion (especially during eight heats of the 500-yard race!) But the young athletes competing displayed an extraordinary amount of focus. I know some of my son's teammates well, and they all surprised me with their ability to shut out all distractions and  

I am sure if you culled my blogs over these many months you would find a few on the importance of focus. We all know focus is something we should have pretty much any time we try to accomplish anything. Certainly it is a tool we should pull out of our toolkit whenever we need to communicate effectively, or otherwise get someone to "go along" with our thought processes. For how can we expect anyone to follow our logic or listen to our message if we ourselves are unfocused, unclear?

We know this, but often put ourselves in situations where -- in spite of the fact that focus is very much what we need -- we excuse ourselves because we "just can't." There are so many reasons: it is too late in the day, I haven't prepared, my glucose level is low, I didn't sleep well, this room isn't right, I don't really like the person I'm talking to, I do really like the person I'm talking to, and on and on...

In acting we need to focus, too. When I ask my beginning students why, they most often answer: you need focus so you remember the lines. That is not it at all. The goal of acting is to create onstage the reality the playwright has given you. You can only do that by focusing: on the character, on her needs, and on the actions she takes to satisfy those needs. And perhaps this is where acting, like swimming, differs from what we spend the rest of our time doing, in what we think of as real life. In acting, in musical performance, in dance, as in sports, the actions themselves are what you are doing. In life we forget. Actions do speak louder than words, but most of us get caught up in the talking and thinking and forget the doing.

A good tip for effective communications: next time you need to get an idea across, or connect with someone on a deeper level, ask yourself "what am I doing?" before you speak. Make an action plan. And then breathe, dive in, and do it.

Inaugurally speaking: "to us" vs. "at us"

 

 
     

There's nothing like being in the Nation's Capital during Inauguration Weekend! Though the excitement was not as palpable as it was four years ago, there was enough of a buzz in the air to put us in a holiday mood. I attended the Virginia Inaugural Ball on Sunday, and celebrated Inauguration Day at the Canadian Embassy's "tailgate" and parade-viewing party. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. However, as your faithful blogger on all things communications-related, I could not let my professional hat slip off for too long. And so, here are some observations from this weekend:

Practice really does make perfect. Or nearly so. You know the Inauguration Ceremony itself was scripted down to the minutest detail. There was a run-through a week before with stand-ins for all the principals. In 2009 my children & I watched the sound and light check two days before The Big Day. We heard Yo-Yo Ma and Itzhak Perlman play, making the recording they later used during the frigid Inauguration. And this year, I would bet the singers and other participants "worked in the space" prior to yesterday's celebration, even if they did most of their rehearsal elsewhere. The singers came with knowledge of how to best use their microphones, but the speakers were also coached. The President, who has spoken here before, did a masterful job with his delivery. He hit just the right tones. His speech exhorted, encouraged, celebrated. He was speaking "to us" but he was also "of us." Myrlie Evers-Williams delivered a stirring Invocation that was a fantastic example of delivering a text that is more delicate, at once more personal and universal. Watch her. She is strong in her prayerfulness. She includes us in her circle of communication, and that is hard to do with such a huge live audience. Her focus draws us all in. We are communing with her. Even at the Embassy, there was a collectively breathed "amen" when she finished.

By contrast, most of the featured speakers at Sunday's Ball pushed the audience away with their aggressive energy. They were speaking "at us."  I felt I was at a late-stage outdoor campaign rally with people who didn't know/didn't trust how microphones work. I know it is hard to resist the temptation to shout over the crowd when you feel they should be listening to you. But the ones who wanted to listen listened while others partied. Shouting into a microphone does not make you louder; it does not command attention. It actually makes your tone more strident, harder to listen to, and thus, turns people off. Your sound engineer will try to compensate to help you. Really, if you had trusted that expert to do her/his job, you would have sounded better and found a more receptive audience. Practicing in the space would have helped. But I know these speakers have been in spaces like this before and they still don't seem to get that no one likes to be shouted at. Even your fans don't like it! (did you learn nothing from Howard Dean?)

The exception was my friend Charniele Herring, who was gracious and classy and most certainly was heard.  The guys need to take a page from her playbook. Maybe they will, now that she is Chair of the Democratic Party of Virginia!

Gender difference: science, or magical thinking?

I coach people who want to develop or improve their leadership skills. As it happens, I work more with women than men, and many assumptions are made about the differences in women's and men's communications styles, the way they lead, their inherent need to express themselves, etc.  So many times I find myself responding to statements that begin, "When women communicate they . . ." with "Well, yes, but . . ." Or hearing that the "female brain" is "hard-wired" to do this or that. It is all I can do to restrain myself from blurting out" "argh! The brain is not an electronic device!!"

I thought "conventional wisdom" had moved beyond such simplistic thinking: even Wikipedia has an entry on Neuroplasticity that describes how our brains change throughout our lives. Some of you may have seen my objections to the view that male and female are inherently different when I posted: Pink and Blue? What's Up With That?, written after a presentation by the Rosalind Barnett, author of The Truth about Girls and Boys: Challenging Toxic Stereotypes About Our Children 

So I was thrilled to read, in Sunday's New York Times, the provocatively titled "Darwin Was Wrong About Dating". This op-ed written by author and journalist Dan Slater, deals primarily with several recent scientific studies that throw cold water on accepted theories of gender difference. Slater writes: "Lately, however, a new cohort of scientists have been challenging the very existence of the gender differences in sexual behavior that Darwinians have spent the past 40 years trying to explain and justify on evolutionary grounds."

Which raises this issue: if the differences don't exist here, where there might be a clear evolutionary reason for such gender differences, do they really exist at all? Later in the article Slater echoes what has been on my mind for quite some time: "This wouldn’t be the first time we’ve pushed these theories too far. How many stereotypical racial and ethnic differences, once declared evolutionarily determined under the banner of science, have been revealed instead as vestiges of power dynamics from earlier societies?" I think that is a question we would all like an answer to.

We had our share of mis-information about gender difference this election season in the U.S. (see Aiken, Todd et al.) I hope we have reached the extreme, and our pendulum is now swinging back toward more reasonable discourse. It's past time to come out from under the cloud of simplistic thinking about gender, sex and power. As Slater says, "given new research, continued rigid reliance on evolution as an explanation seems to risk elevating a limited guide to teleological status — a way of thinking that scientists should abhor. . . How far does Darwin go in explaining human behavior?"

Resolved: It's not just a New Year's thing

 

Happy New Year!

I was not going to write about resolutions for 2013, but today as I took my regular morning walk (my first of the New Year), I noticed there were about four times as many folks out exercising as there had been in December. And it wasn't even an unseasonably warm day! So I got to ruminating about resolutions.

 

I think that by January 3rd this topic has been done to death in all media. My favorite story this year was Ira Flatow on NPR's Science Friday. Before the dawn of 2013, Ira interviewed psychologist John Norcross who said the best way to make resolutions stick is to set realistic goals. This is not really news, but Dr. Norcross did cite figures: "In two of our longitudinal studies, 40 to 46 percent of New Year's resolvers will be successful at six months." Wow! That means that half of our resolutions will be fading by the time the cherry blossoms bloom here in D.C. Dr. Norcross talked about motivation vs. inspiration. I have always thought of inspiration as the seducer, making our resolutions seem so attractive that we reallyreally want to try them. Dr. Norcross would agree, I venture. He also reminds us that motivation is what keeps us going. It is also what those who fail balk at -- the hard work part. Motivation involves specific behaviors we build into the fabric of our days. And we shouldn't get discouraged by early "slips" of resolve: they may indicate that our major goal is good, but we need to "tweak" strategies for reaching it to make it something do-able.

Like many people my age, I don't place much stock in New Year's resolutions (been there, done that!) I try to be more pro-active (as opposed to reactive) in my life every day. Some days, however, I find that in my home and family life I am making choices rather hap-hazardly, according to circumstances that present themselves, rather than sticking to any real plan. Undaunted, I still resolve to make improvements -- but not on Big Days. My goals are usually small and specific. Some might call them modest. But often they are only steps in a plan to attain a larger goal. (see the story of how I produced my play, Becoming Calvin)

One of my past resolutions involved the what was then to me the strange world of blogging. I was not sure where it would lead me, but I dove in with my first post on November 7, 2011. And I keep at it as regularly as I can. Since my first blog I have posted 58 times, and had 4,549 page views (thank you). The Value of Solitude from January 24, 2012 remains the all-time favorite. I have enjoyed the discipline blogging has provided. And while I know not every post has been brilliant, I hope I have been able to share with you, my far-flung readers, some new information, or helped you reach a new insight.

Keep reading. . . there's more to come in 2013!

Elementary, my dear Watson!

Well into the frenzy of the holiday season, we could all use some sound, easy-to-implement method for maintaining focus and clarity. We're tired of myriad distractions derailing us from our ever-lengthening to-do lists, and overwhelmed by stimuli at the mall that pull us off course. Just in the Nick of time, a ray of hope shines forth from this past Sunday's New York Times: an article about new research that tells us, with a bit of practice, we can all attain a mindfulness that would make Sherlock Holmes proud.

The author, Maria Konnikova, writes about studies from University of Wisconsin and University of Washington that prove even a small amount of meditation can help us achieve real-world benefits: "As little as five minutes a day of intense Holmes-like inactivity, and a happier outlook is yours for the taking. . . But mindfulness goes beyond improving emotion regulation. An exercise in mindfulness can also help with that plague of modern existence: multitasking. Of course, we would like to believe that our attention is infinite, but it isn’t. Multitasking is a persistent myth. What we really do is shift our attention rapidly from task to task. Two bad things happen as a result. We don’t devote as much attention to any one thing, and we sacrifice the quality of our attention. When we are mindful, some of that attentional flightiness disappears as if of its own accord."

So before you shop, wrap, decorate, bake, or even celebrate. . . take five for Sherlock. You just might discover more joy this season.

 

Coming in from the cold

Scottish Christmas Walk
© Alexandria Convention & Visitors Association
Holiday season around here kicks off with an event peculiar to our part of the world-- Alexandria, Virginia's annual Scottish Walk. The parade ends with Santa, as most parades after Thanksgiving do. But it honors Alexandria's heritage, and so it includes some unusual elements: marching bagpipe ensembles, Scottie dogs, and lots of tartan!

I must confess, we don't stand along the parade route each and every year, but we always go to a Holiday Open House hosted by a dear friend whose office is close by. When we open the door into her town home office, we notice the aroma of spiced hot cider, and we we are immediately enveloped in a feeling of good holiday cheer. When I attend these gatherings, I always leave with a new friend or business contact. Somehow, the atmosphere our hostess creates invariably allows for easy connectivity.

What is her secret? This past Sunday's New York Times gave me a clue. In their very informative "Gray Matter" column, authors Hans Ijzerman and Justin Saddlemyer describes research linking feelings of connection (and its opposite, octracism) to body temperature: "Research has shown that things like heart rate, levels of respiration and other involuntary physiological responses are affected by social connectedness. Thus, when people feel excluded, blood vessels at the periphery of the body (in the fingertips, for example) may narrow, preserving core body heat. This classic protective mechanism is known as vasoconstriction." Once again, science has given the biology behind our feelings: in this case, the reason we feel "left out in the cold" when we are not included! 

The good news is that the converse is also true, and I can only surmise that my gracious hostess knew that serving warm cider is not only festive, but conducive to conviviality!  ". . .  touching something warm after a feeling of ostracism — like holding a warm cup of coffee — is enough to halt and even reverse some of these autonomic responses. It seems as if the body can be fooled into feeling welcomed by applying a little warmth in the right places. And the effect is reciprocal: studies in our own lab and at Yale have found that adults and young children are more social after they’ve touched something warm."

I think we can all use this news. In professional settings, we can make sure to offer those hot beverages when is seems our connections may be weakening. In our social lives we can keep our spirits and core temperatures up -- if not through clothing (female festive wear is notable for it goosebump-inducing, flesh-baring sparkles) -- through eating or drinking something that gives us that warm and reassuring feeling inside. Or standing beside someone who does! 

Lessons from Beijing traffic

A rare break in traffic across for Tiananmen Square
Walking to a meeting last night in Washington, D.C. I stopped and looked at the chaos that is D.C. downtown rush hour traffic. I realized this was the first time I had experienced this phenomenon after my Beijing trip earlier in the month (a Thanksgiving trip to New England had intervened). I was struck by how the big city traffic here differs from that in Beijing, and began to ponder what traffic can teach us about life - and communication.

In Beijing, the pedestrian has no right-of-way. Vehicles of every size occupy three to four lanes on each side, and there are bicycles and three-wheeled electronic delivery carts in the bike lanes. Traffic signals seem to mean something, but apparently turning on red is permissible for right and left turns. So pity the poor tourist on foot! The best advice I got about walking around town was from a wonderful guidebook, China Survival Guide: How to Avoid Travel Troubles and Mortifying Mishaps. The authors said the best thing to do, since a stray bike or random cab can come out of nowhere, was to wait till a crowd gathers to cross the street and go with them. Even if you have the light, as a pedestrian you are vulnerable. Best to travel with a group. Fortunately, you are never far from a crowd in Beijing!

The other striking thing about Beijing traffic, though, is its quiet, almost dance-like flow. In a town with so many drivers that they can only use their cars on alternate days, and six ring roads defining the city, I was expecting to see NYC-style traffic jams, complete with horns blaring and breaks screeching. Nothing could have been farther from what I experienced. 

Beijing traffic flows smoothy. Drivers maintain a uniform pace (maxing out at 25 mph by my guesstimation). No one races to make a light, but plenty make u-turns mid-block (because so many streets are one-way). Those behind the wheel must be used to such things happening in front of them, but visiting passengers are quite unprepared! The first time I witnessed this (from inside a cab) I cringed and held on tight, expecting horns, maybe some loud cursing, definitely a jolt as the brakes were applied. But no, the turn was easily accomplished, and we were on our merry way.

It may be illustrative of what some call the "Chinese character" that drivers work so well, so harmoniously, in such a crowded place. Traffic is bad in Beijing, and I think the system of ring roads is pretty inefficient. But the drivers are all mindful of each other. They all seem to realize what so many of us forget: we are all fellow-travelers, and rushing about and behaving as if our needs trump everyone else's doesn't really help us reach our destinations that much sooner. They watch each other, engage mindfully, and go with the flow.

Lessons to remember the next time we find ourselves in a foreign communications landscape!

Why I give thanks

Thanksgiving is upon us, that most American of holidays. We all celebrate it: a feast of food, family and friends. It is a grand tradition indeed!

But most of us no longer farm. We did not flee religious persecution in our homelands. So our thanks is not for our new life of religious freedom, nor for the bountiful harvest we have gathered in. We may see the Pilgrims  and their 1621 Thanksgiving at Plymouth as a metaphor for a "good year",  a time of abundance, a time of freedom. But can we really relate?

There is an another historical first Thanksgiving in American, though, predating the one in Plymouth. In Virginia, on December 4, 1619, the givers of thanks represent another facet of American identity. Berkeley Hundred was chartered by the Virginia Company of London. Like the Jamestown Colony (est. 1607) it was business venture. The goal of the Company was to gain a foothold in the New World, cultivate some cash crops and send them back to England. These colonies were chartered to reap profits for settlers, speculators and shareholders. How very American!

And yet, even the profit-driven leaders of The Company acknowledged that the safe arrival of the colonizers would be a reason to give thanks to God. By charter, the Captain was directed to hold a service of Thanksgiving upon landing in Virginia. After 13 weeks at sea, Captain John Woodlief led his 38 men in prayer: “We ordaine that this day of our ships arrival, at the place assigned for plantacon, in the land of Virginia, shall be yearly and perpetually kept holy as a day of Thanksgiving to Almighty God”. 

And so our first Thanksgiving was a celebration of our safe arrival, and the beginning of a new venture. For those of us who no longer live in an agrarian world, where life's rhythms follow the seasons, celebrating a harvest festival may be a bit of a mental stretch. But I think many of us (especially creative types and anyone who makes something out of raw material, drive, and vision) can relate to the thanks given at Berkeley Hundred. 

When we take a leap of faith into the unknown we are like those first settlers, guided by a hope for a better tomorrow and a prayer that we will arrive safely. Like them, the profit motive may be a factor, but we are also pioneers, journeying toward a new world. We will only succeed with good winds, hard work, and the grace of God.

A pause to reflect

The Forbidden City
I have just returned from a week in Beijing. It was a fantastic experience! I had never been in China before; indeed, this was my first trip to Asia. My husband had been invited to attend a conference, and I tagged along, just for fun.

The Great Wall
His Chinese colleagues were generous with their time, and invited us to several meals. One even shepherded us through our morning of haggling and bargain-hunting at The Pearl Market.  But most days we were on our own, seeing the sights and generally self-navigating the city. Not knowing more than three word of Mandarin, I did a lot of listening. was especially attuned to non-verbal communications.

I rediscovered that a smile can communicate a lot of good will, and that the meaning of joyous laughter is universal. But what also struck me was the essential place of the pause in any language. My husband's colleague graciously took us to the best Dim Sum restaurant near the Lama Temple.  And when she made a phone call, she spoke so rapidly in her native Mandarin that it took my breath away. Only when she paused did I know she had come to the end of a very long explanation. In a tonal language, ends of sentences cannot be signaled by the downward pitch of finality that we use in English. And so the pause becomes even more important as a signal of conclusion. We noted this as well when we had to rewind our (otherwise excellent) audio cassette tour of The Forbidden City. The Chinese English speaker was hard to follow: was she still describing the Hall of Supreme Harmony, or had she moved on the Hall of Central Harmony? She did not drop her vocal tone at the end, which is one of the few tonalities we use in English (as opposed to Mandarin, where every word is formed by one of three tones). So it sounded like she was continuing with the same thought. But if she had paused, we would have known.

It got me thinking of the rhythms of communication, and how essential the pause is in any language. In German, the listener uses the pause at the end of a sentence to match all the verbs with the nouns that preceded them. In English and the Western Romance languages, the listener uses the pause to  absorb what has just been said. If we fail to pause, we are not engaging in the give-and-take of the communications loop, and we lose our listener.

When speech mirrors our speeding train of thought, it is too hard for the listeners to stay on board. And once they have jumped off, it is almost impossible to pull them back on. A pause may seem like a small thing, but it can keep you on track!

Can a connection be made?

One last blog about the Presidential debates.

I find it troubling that facts were the biggest casualties of this series. If I were an undecided voter I doubt I the debates would have led to a decision. Yes, the President gave lots of detail for how he would reach his policy goals, whereas Governor Romney continued to deal in vague, positive-sounding generalities. But some people do not like all that detail and do not want to know how the economy will be fixed: they just want it to be fixed. So this time, "how I feel about the candidate" just might tip the scales.

The televised debates were meant to give us a clearer view of each candidate; to show us what each of them stood for. But, as I said, facts were distorted so much that it was hard to score them on that point. That brings us back to perception and connection. So what's the final score?

I give the ultimate win to President Obama. Here's why: he proved he can learn from his mistakes. His delivery continued to improve as the cycle went on, while Governor Romney succumbed to overconfidence that led to a smug delivery in the third debate. The Governor is already battling the perception that he thinks he is better than at least 47% of us. He should be more careful not to seem snobby and elitist. A dose of humility would have helped.

As the President noted in his interview with Jay Leno on Wednesday, "If you don't have the energy and presentation that make people snap up and say 'I get it'" you lose. He learned to overcome his personal tendency to be cool, cerebral and aloof and come out in the third debate as someone who will fight for the voter. His eye contact with the moderator, the way he cocked his head as he listened, his use of gestures that were congruent with his words (to name just a couple of specifics) all said: this is a real person who just might listen to a voter like me.

Now I know voting is so incredibly partisan this time around that no one can predict what will happen. But I know that many of us in the professional speaking world hope the President is reelected. He is the better speaker, and - best of all - he has shown he can learn from his mistakes! The fact that he is aware that there is always room for improvement endears him to teachers and coaches everywhere. These debates, after all, did provide us with a glimpse of what makes him tick.

Never underestimate the power of making that connection.

Don't forget the audience

Presidential debates are part campaign rally, part talk show interview, part smack down. I found this  week's debate at Hofstra University a particularly interesting example of the genre. First, you can't put anything over on the undecided voters of Nassau County. They were all thrilled (I would assume) to be there, and were given strict orders not to react to the candidates' responses. But the camera did occasionally catch faces showing various degrees of perplexity, disagreement, enthusiasm. It was good people-watching if you were looking for reflexive responses - the kind that can't be hidden!

Regrettably, the main event became the showdown between the candidates, gleefully reported on by every major media outlet in the country. And though partisans seemed to get some basic animal thrill from watching their guys "duke it out," I would not be surprised if the undecided remained undecided. The candidates each began with a massive failure to play to the studio audience, and to the larger audience at home.

My guess is that both President Obama's and Governor Romney's debate coaches told them to look at the questioner when answering to show sincerity and commitment. But that's exactly what they did -  they showed, all right, but who believed them? They both glombed on to the faces of their unsuspecting targets and fixed on them for way too long. I really felt for Jeremy Epstein, the first one to pose a question. It's hard enough to disengage when someone locks you in their gaze, but when that person is the President, what can you do? Jeremy said in a post-debate interview that he felt nervous, and that he felt he couldn't move because Mitt Romney was looking at him so intently.

After the debate, when Jeremy met the candidates, he said felt he was talking to "real people" -- and for him, that was the best part. Hmmmm. I wonder how a candidate could harness that power of connection during the debate? Here's a hint: real communication never takes place anywhere in the vicinity of a stare down. Relax your gaze, look around, open up your body and your gestures to include others in the audience. Take a cue from Oprah: you need to connect with everyone there -- they are likely as concerned as Jeremy about job prospects for young people. And use the camera to convey your sincerity to the audience at home. There seems to be some great aversion to the camera, as if the candidates had been coached not to try to speak to the very large viewing audience. I can only imagine why that would be -- it will seem more "real" if you don't occasionally connect with viewer at home?? Like this is in any way a "real" event we are just eavesdroping on! There is no fourth wall here. Use the tools of your media, fellas. You don't need to direct address us for paragraphs at a time, but occasionally look in our direction.

Both did a better job as the evening went on. By question three you could see the President loosening up and trying to connect. He did start playing to the crowd more, and his body language relaxed, as did his enunciation. But when Governor Romney interrupted him, you could see his defenses go up, his posture stiffened, he disengaged from the questioner and focussed on his "combatant." Partisans had been begging for that since the first debate. So if the evening was about a fight, they gave us a good show. But if I were an undecided voter, I would still have a lot of questions.

The veep stakes

Last week I wrote that the Presidential debate looked very different to me that it did to most major  pundits who proclaimed their opinions far and wide.  The Daily Beast posted an interesting article that helps explain why: "But with the rise of blogging and especially Twitter, journalists are spending more and more time immersed in the world of retorts and clever one-liners than ever before." So thoughtful responses from Obama, because they weren't snappy or zingy, led him to be caricatured as sleepy, tired, unfocussed. 

After last night's Vice Presidential debate, even greater dissection of the contestants was offered up. Fortunately, looking sleepy was not a charge that could be leveled against either Joe Biden or Paul Ryan.

I thought Joe Biden's energy and pugnaciousness were refreshing, and I did not mind his interrupting  Paul Ryan or Martha Raddatz, since he had valid points to make. Often he corrected a point made by his opponent, a move calculated to try to get people to actually think about what was being said (which is one of the only proven ways to counter mis-information). Much has been made about his smiling at Ryan's statements, but Joe does not have a poker face: much better to smile at something you consider a bunch of "malarkey" as he colorfully termed it, than scowl and/or shake your head! Paul Ryan looked far too earnest. Like he was trying reallyreallyhard to convince the moderator (and by extension, the viewing public) that he was right. His bulging eyes, raised eyebrows and furrowed forehead were exhausting to watch. So earnest, so sure of himself; he walked a very fine line between confidence and smugness. He crossed it a couple of times. But I know he appealed to those who were predisposed to see him as the Next Big Thing and Joe as a washed-up glad-hander.

From a professional standpoint, my critique is of their delivery only; there are way too many organizations who have fact-checked their content for me to weigh in on it. I would give this one to Joe. He was at ease, yet forceful when he needed to be. He used vocal variety to express different ideas and thoughts appropriately. He was at home in his body: he moved, he gestured, he breathed. Paul Ryan, for all his confidence, was, oddly and visably ill at ease. He drank way too much water and swallowed nervously throughout. He lacked the kind of vocal cadence you use when you have internalized a message; he sounded well-drilled. He hammered home his messages with pretty much the same tense, I- want-to-really-make-you-understand feeling all the time. Pushing himself at us, not pulling us in. I got the feeling he wasn't a very good listener.

I'll be listening again next week as Obama and Romney meet again. Who knows? Maybe I will hear something new!