Open the door!

Every single time I do a presentation on the importance of professional presence, someone in the audience invariably crosses his or her arms and leans back in the chair, occasionally rolling the eyes. Whenever I have a conversation about the subject with colleagues or acquaintances, there's always a comment along the lines of, "This really doesn't matter." I've heard it a gazillion times. "What matters is the ability of the person, not what he or she looks like," someone will say. "I've worked with all kinds of people, and I can assure you I've never cared how they dressed."  

I have to tell folks again and again that professional presence has nothing to do with how brilliant a person is, how skilled, how talented, how enormously capable he or she may be. It has to do with being in context with one's surroundings. It has to do with how one is perceived. If I had time in most conversations, I'd explain that while one out of ten people with whom we interact might care about how we present ourselves, that one person might be extremely important--someone we need to influence or whose influence we want.

Can anyone seriously tell me they never consider the outward appearance and presentation of people they deal with? If you're a business professional and you're talking with a group of your peers, and one of them has a slight body odor and drops the f-bomb in every other sentence, do you truly not have a thought as to how this person is being perceived? Surely someone in the group will be offended or disgusted, or completely tune out, having decided this is not the kind of person with whom they want to associate. Your colleagues will walk away, most likely wondering why in the world the person can't bathe and wear deodorant and why they can't manage to complete a sentence without being crude and vulgar.

"That's an extreme example," someone might say. Yes, it is, but I use it to highlight the point that everyone judges by appearance or behavior. EVERYONE. If you wear a $1500 suit into a biker bar, there is going to be a judgment from the bartender and the patrons as to what kind of person you are. In the very same way, if you send a thank-you email to another professional and the written response is, "Your welcome," there really are some of us who have the kind of brief internal reaction that occurs when nails are scraped against a chalkboard. If it so happens that you know how to dress professionally but you act like a complete jerk, do you honestly think your behavior should not be considered against your skills and abilities? If you go to a business lunch and the person on the other side of the table practically puts his face into the plate and inhales, are you telling me you have no thought about that at all? Of course you do. People have reactions, even unconscious ones. Guess what? Some people make unfavorable judgments based on what they can see and hear. "Not ready for a promotion." "Insensitive fool." "I'm not talking to him about that habit. I'll just avoid him."

Your appearance, your behavior, and your personality and character strengths present you. Of course we all want to be considered only for our abilities and knowledge, but you can't wear skill. You can't walk around with a "Person of Integrity" sign on your back. You've got to open the door so people want to connect with the things you want them to see. Manage the judgment. Make the open door inviting. Once people are inside, they can see all your good internal qualities, and that's what you're going for.

As much as it is in your power, be exceptional in every aspect of your professional life. All it takes is one person who is impressed with the attention you pay to all the details to give you an opportunity that others, who may be better educated or have more experience, won't receive because they have shut the door.

Such a small effort to be above average

I was sitting at a stoplight yesterday behind two women who seemed to be having a pleasant conversation with the man in the car next to them. It was a beautiful day, and their windows were down. I was listening to the radio, so my windows were up, and I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I wondered if they knew each other and were taking this brief moment chance to catch up.

Then the light turned green, and to my utter astonishment, the woman in the driver's seat gave the man the finger and stepped on the gas. Both women extended an arm out the window with middle fingers prominent as they drove on.

My mouth dropped open. I almost could not move forward, I was so shocked. Then I was really sad, just sad for a culture that is so ready to be bitter and hateful and crude, crude to the core. Ready to start a fight, ready to curse instead of bless, ready to engage in the worst of human emotions. That two beautiful women could drive away with such a vulgar display, probably terrifically proud of themselves, just made me hurt for their ignorance. They don't know they are crowned with glory and honor by a Creator who loves them, so they imitate the only model they know: the snake who keeps them blind to this truth.

Every interaction in the day has opportunity for glory or for dirt. Dirt can be filth and grime, and wallowed in with utter depravity; sometimes it's just average, plain old stuff that I brush up against accidentally in a white shirt, messing up a lovely picture. Glory, on the other hand, is cleansing. Glory is the soft answer when others want to be hard. Glory is patience with an unkind clerk, a rude waitress, a snippy customer service rep. Glory is being able to stay disconnected from the ravings of a vicious boss or a terrorist coworker.

It takes a little more effort to respond with glory than with dirt, because dirt is what we are, and it's easier to follow one's nature. It takes a little effort to do glory, and some people can't do it at all because they have no concept of it whatsoever, much less the capacity for it. But in that moment where one feels instinct coming on like a flood, glory is the pause that changes the course and takes the situation from the average to the above average, and sometimes to the transcendent. When someone tries to start an argument, instead of engaging, glory pauses and, in its highest expression, hears the other person's struggle and speaks to it.

This is so rare. I wished for those two women that they would be pulled from the dirt. May we all consider how little effort it takes to rise to glory.  

Leave as a Blessing or a Thorn

So you've been told your job is eliminated. You've been given an end date. We all know it's usually best to look for work while we still have a job so an out-of-work period on our resume doesn't have to be explained. 

You may be hurt, or angry. Maybe extremely angry. Before you go into a place of bitterness from which it can be enormously difficult to extricate yourself, keep this in mind: this is so common in the corporate world today it's hardly worth mentioning. Organizations lay people off, eliminate jobs, slash workforces with astonishing regularity. It's nothing new. People lose their jobs every day, for good and bad reasons. Managers are told they must reduce their divisions by 10%, even if reducing certain divisions will have a negative impact on the company. Whole departments are deemed unnecessary. Sales fall so precipitously a company has to reduce its employees or face bankruptcy. It is what it is. It's not personal. Actually, that's the problem: it's quite impersonal. The people at the top most often do not care about the people who are losing jobs; they care about the bottom line. 

So keep this in perspective. It happens every day. You are not the first to experience it, even though it may be the first time in your life it has happened. 

The question is: will you leave as a blessing or a thorn? Will you do what's necessary to assist the person who will be rolling in behind you, usually wholly unaware of the personal devastation this event is having on your life? Will you help executives who may have never cared about you clean up a department as you go, or put files in order, or make sure an important client doesn't drop through the cracks? Or will you spread your bitterness around the office like so many little thorns, passively-aggressively dispensing pain and discomfort? Will you say, in essence, "I'll be damned if I'll help them. They certainly aren't helping me." 

I will say it simply here, and I hope you will chew on this and ingest it thoughtfully: it is beyond foolish to leave as a thorn. You shoot yourself in the foot by departing with a stink. Not only does such idiocy jeopardize any sort of recommendation you might need to receive as you search for new employment, it slams the door on the possibility that someone there who may have never noticed your contribution might just notice it now, and remember you. That person may be someone who calls you down the line as circumstances change, or you may need to call them for a favor. Leave as a thorn and no matter how long you have been there and how much people have liked you, they will be glad to see you go on your last day.

In addition, consider your integrity. (That is, if this means something to you. If it does not, read no further.) Do not allow circumstances to compromise your integrity. Do what is right because it is right. If you play silly games of sabotage or refuse to provide your service in your last bit on the job, you are not affecting the people who sliced your position off the map. Those people don't care. They can't see you. You are affecting the people you claim to like, who have worked alongside you, who have to pick up the excrement you have left once you're gone. Is that your plan? To make everyone pay? 

Go somewhere and grieve on your own. Decide to leave as a blessing. Grace always gives. Integrity always does what's right. Be a person of character even when others around you have none. It will benefit you later on--you'll see. 

Go, daddy. I mean it.

GoDaddy is dropping its blog product, and I'm not sorry to see it go. What I am sorry about is that I have been so lazy I didn't drop it before it dropped me. It is cumbersome and inartful and a pain, like its terrible website builder. My husband is a website designer, and has had so many people call him to redesign their site after they tried to do it with GoDaddy's builder, frustrated and angry at how it is billed as so easy but it turns out to be so hard. He often says, "Why GoDaddy, which has such excellent customer service and is known for how responsive it is, persists in creating such awful products is beyond me." I'm grateful for the super service regarding domains and web hosting, but in a world of far easier blog platforms, it is time to move on.

This isn't major revelation or anything. We do so much because it feels harder to change, and sometimes it is. Sometimes it will take so much effort and time and anxiety that we have to weigh whether it will be worth it in the end. I'm also convinced that some people are naturally willing to jump into new scenarios and plans and go for it, because they are fueled by change. People are fond of the platitude that "Nobody likes change," but that's not true. We change things all the time--our hairstyle, our cars, our route to work, the furniture, our choice of food, all kinds of things. I will change my grocery store in a minute if I find one I like better, even if the drive is slightly longer. I used to change my haircut about every six months. I enjoyed seeing how differently I could look. I don't mind changing jobs if I can find one that's more fun or provides increased vacation time. 

What is meant by "nobody likes change" is that we don't all jump at a change in routine. We don't like it when the paper towels in the bathrooms at work are changed, or Trader Joe's stops carrying our favorite snack. We don't want to have to rearrange everything just so we can get at one thing. The truth is, though, that some people don't mind packing up the entire house to move to a new place, and others are ready and willing to start a body transformation with a new exercise program and diet. These things have such a highly desirable end result that change is willingly undertaken. 

Since I have such limited experience with blogging, I do not beat myself up for taking so long to change. Maybe I was supposed to wait, because this platform, PostHaven, needed to come about. I believe in serendipity. It makes change quite enjoyable!