True Colours

My friends from Melbourne have gone, leaving as they always do, a selection of olives, cheeses, sun dried tomatoes, cold meats and other delectable items which I’ve turned into a colourful, tasty and nutritious meal to suit me right now.  It’s a rainy evening, this Equinox, and I’m cosy after a 26km run and shower. Comfortable.

This boy unknown to me at the Grey Lynn Festival in November seemed very proud of his new colours!

Speaking of running, we had two marathon Seinfeld sessions and I’m continuing tonight solo. Jerry and Kramer have just run into someone who called Jerry a phoney five years ago. “Is Jerry still mad at me for the phoney comment?”. “Oh no” said Kramer “it’s water near a bridge!”.  “Maybe I’ll see you in another five years”, said Jerry.

At the risk of showing your true colours sometimes you feel the need to say something that has the potential to cause injury. In your own language, the truth might hurt. In the recipient’s eyes, you’re showing unpleasant, but true colours.

Last week I ran a great workshop on story telling (well I thought is was great anyway!). As you might expect I started with a story. The story started with the events of 22 February 2011 with my son Thomas and Dad in Christchurch. And somehow I went to a classic photograph of my parents in 1952 in Queen Street, taken by a roving street photographer and restored by me for their 55th wedding anniversary (actually the credit for the restoration goes to my talented former assistant Ivana Dimovski). The photograph stirs deep thoughts in me, of a young couple in love and makes me reflect back over the 48 years or so that my DNA has been part of that union. And because it means that much I like to be clear.  So in the weekend I had a ‘showing my true colours’  moment, because something challenged my values that I didn’t think had been properly dealt with.

So this blog is written I admit with a slightly bruised feeling – I’m the one that’s done the bruising – and I don’t feel flash for doing it. Funny how you can bruise yourself when showing your true colours. And I forgot the power of the story for a moment – I did the telling bit, but not the story with all it’s grit, love, rights, wrongs and meaning. And without doubt I made somethings that were actually good, not good, to justify my sense of wrong.

The story of life is gritty and true colour moments come and go.  With those that really matter they are building blocks to greater meaning. Nice words, probably true, but I need to tell myself, easy fella, make sure I don’t do more harm than good in my truth moments. And remind myself that the buttons that get pushed – mine is usually around transparency when the water is still near the bridge – are my buttons, not everyone elses.

And the couple in the photograph in 1952 are just the best parents you could ever ask for and if you don’t know that about someone special in your life, maybe you’re afraid of the true colour moment, maybe you never recovered from a true colour moment, maybe the water is near the bridge and you haven’t had the courage to let it flow. Whatever the reason don’t wait for the next Equinox to realise that it’s time to sort it. And don’t save up some crap until the next Equinox either.

I recently wrote about a cousins barbecue at the memory-filled Stanmore Bay where most of us there shared some DNA.  But remember, your DNA only lasts for so long.

Stephen

Don’t stop me now!

So is the title of the Queen song. Inspired by the New Zealand movie Love Birds which made me laugh and cry at the same time I’ve had a serious and sudden desire to listen to all things Queen. No, not the head of state but the Freddie Mercury one. Doug, played by Rhys Darby gets dumped by his long-time girlfriend ‘cos he’s too boring. A fanatic of Queen, the movie features lots of Queen and great shots of an Auckland you’d be proud to call home.

Yesterday, I helped a group of Masters students get ready for a presentation today. Everyone is winding them up – the client, themselves, the other groups – and it seemed that their 20 minutes of fame followed by 5 minutes of Q&A was an Everest event. Practicing the words, understanding the jargon, suggestions to drug one of the panelists by their helpful lecturer all combined to raise anxiety. Actually they’re quite confident sounding so I coached them around being themselves, not reading stuff out (we can do that ourselves you know!) and making a stand: What actually are you recommending? (a surprisingly common oversight).

Yesterday at a senior management meeting someone forgot what they wanted to say “well I can’t say it now can I!” or something, he said. Exactly. So what? We laughed and realised our own imperfections. Yes we’ve all forgotten something we really thought we wanted to say, or do. Damn, forgot to make a recommendation on what we were asked!

Can you forget to be yourself? Yes, it seems, and usually by people who aren’t. Advice advice advice about this, that, tactics, long winded rants about what you NEED to do, all by people who are supposedly leading groups to grow.

Actually they’ve probably got no idea about what the motives and preferences of the people being presented to are – just throw out some stuff to them, say lots of technical stuff, get ready to wiz them with technical jargon, make sure you stand tall and confident. Practice the words and get them right.

What a load of shit.  Be yourself, engage from what you know – if someone advising you about a presentation doesn’t have anything insightful to say about the people you’re talking to, find someone else to help you. And if you can’t, who cares, trust yourself. What’s the worst thing that can happen? People will see the real you in all your frailties and with any sort of luck, you’ll forget something you meant to say. And then you’ll have ’em.

Once you’re going then you’re unstoppable.

Don’t stop me now!

Stephen

But

I like what you said, but say this next time. I really liked the way you did this, but in future could you watch out for that. This has been a great day, but if only it didn’t rain. I loved that movie, but it was a shame that it finished so early.

Does but have a place in your leadership conversation? Do you notice the but in language around you? Maybe you’re a but person.

Giving empowering feedback, being positive when you can be are really important parts of growing leaders. Following it up with an empowering message about how to take the next step to grow even more is encouraging and a coaching opportunity to grab hold of when you can.

Adding a but after the encouragement is negative and makes the next part of the conversation sound like the real reason for the conversation. Which it probably is if you’re a but person.

And don’t think you can simply change but for however! I won’t let you off the hook and neither will the person receiving the feedback.

A short blog about a short word.

Watch out for it – if but is coming out when you could be empowering, ask yourself – what am I trying to do here?

I’d say it’ll say more about you than the other person.

No ifs or buts about it! (sorry had to do that)

Stephen

Really glad you took our talk about getting on the bus to heart and next time we could even try to get the strategy going without buying a bus

A military head of state

He or she might technically be just our head of state’s representative, but with a grandson’s wedding, a playboy son and other important affairs of state to worry about in England for our actual head of state, the Governor General is as good as we get.

Without doubt it has to be a leadership role, our head of state. There’s some ceremonies to facilitate, many with a feel-good factor, some to appoint cabinet ministers and patron of a number of charities. I’d like to see someone who inspires us as a nation to grow.

Outside of New Zealand I doubt many people would know who our Governor General is. Can you name the Governor General of  Australia? Or Canada? How about Fiji? Do they have one still?

Managing the Army and later the Defence Force is a big job and our next GG appears to have run operations pretty satisfactorily. When we saw him under pressure like the appointment of Stephen Wilce, he had it investigated thoroughly and  promptly assigned the blame to those officers who had stuffed up. Not a good look to have someone associated with the Defence with a fake CV, but it wasn’t his fault. Did the handling of it feel political to you? It did to me and that’s a little uncomfortable, for an apolitical appointee.

Leadership is all about context. A few signals, a strategic view given. What will it look like outside New Zealand to anyone that cares to ask: Soldier as head of state?

Not sure at all.

Underwhelmed. But winter’s coming. Makes me dream of a holiday in Fiji.

Stephen