Acknowledgement

Our boss has established a new "hall of fame" onto which people can write notes of acknowledgement to members of our division.  I've been mostly away from the office for several days, and a colleague mentioned to me that I had something on the hall of fame.  Wow!  I was shocked. 

Of course, I had to go directly to the wall and check it out.  There was a lovely letter from one of my clients for work I'd done a month earlier. 

I do the work I do because it is in my core to be of service. I love helping people be happier in their work, and I also delight in seeing organizations become more intentional about their work as a consequence.  I've mostly blended into the background, allowing the leader with whom I am working to take credit for improving the organization.  Not a problem for me...at all...

Yet, it felt really good today to get some positive feedback in a work environment which is largely devoid of same. I used to be much better about acknowledging people for their contribution, but when the culture is "that's your job," I've lost that focus. 

As I realized how good it felt today to get my client's acknowledgement, I have pledged to work my acknowledgement muscles more.  Who should I be acknowledging today?  I sent a few quick emails, but I think the look-in-the-eye-and-say-thanks approach is better.  Well, maybe it is better for the recipient, but it is also fun to see someone's eyes light up when they are thanked sincerely.

I haven't issued a challenge for awhile, but this seems like a good one.  I would like to encourage readers to think about the people around you that you haven't thanked for "just doing their job" or playing their role (spouse, mother, dad, friend, etc.) Then "just do it!"  And if you have any good stories to tell, I'm sure we'd all like to hear.

The Grocery Store Game

Back in the day when I was conducting Intentional Living Intensives with clients, I often encouraged them to play a game that I used to play.  It is a most enlightening (literally) game.  Last night after writing in this blog about connecting, heart to heart, with people one at a time, I was reminded of the game that I haven't played for years.  I decided to try it again. 

Here's how to play.  The purpose of the game it to make a heart connection with people that are often "invisible" in our lives.  They are grocery checkers, waiters, sales clerks, taxi drivers, baristas, the receptionist in a doctor's office, and anyone else with whom we transact business, often so closely that the only thing that separates us is the thickness of a dollar bill or credit card receipt, but most of the time we don't really see them.

In order to make a connection, it is essential that the "player" be focused only on the object of our heart connection.  Slowing down is essential. Eye contact helps. Most of them are not accustomed to being noticed, so it is important to just allow them time to be noticed.  The words that I exchange are said in a way that says I really mean them and not the typical, "Have a good day," said to lots of people without really thinking about them.  "You've been most helpful today.  I really appreciate it."  Often, at that point, they will break into a smile, but they will give you some indication that you've made a connection.  You've scored in The Grocery Store Game. 

I encouraged clients to make at least one connection each day to start with and to work up to the point where they made a connection at every transaction point.  When we "compared notes," what I often heard was they started out thinking they were going to do something for people in their transactions.  To a person, my clients ended up finding the connection was a gift to themselves.

Like my clients, I remember how good it used to feel to walk away from the check stand with my heart vibrating from that connection. I also remember how stress-reducing those encounters were.  They forced me to stop, still my mind and be present. How did I let that slip?  I'm not sure, but as I went to bed last night, I decided it was time to start playing again.

My day started with a smartphone which wouldn't work and me running late to a doctor's appointment, so I admit that I missed several opportunities in the doctor's office and the first two shopping stops before I was jarred from my autopilot life.  But as I set out to visit my service provider on the first of two visits, a little bell went off: this will be an opportunity to connect. 

When I was assigned to a technician, I recognized him from a couple earlier visits more than a year ago.  Before we talked about my problem, I took a moment to say I remembered how helpful he had been in the past and how grateful I was that I had the opportunity to have him support me again.  He looked delighted that I had not only remembered him, but had remembered that he had given me good service.

Sadly, the first visit didn't solve my problem, but when I went back, I used the opportunity to make another connection.  This was a much longer visit, and when I arrived at 6:30 p.m., I was tired, hungry, and frustrated. But to make the connection, I had to let go of all that. I just relaxed and partnered with this technician.  When I finally left at least an hour later, I looked her in the eyes and thanked her for being so helpful.  I said it had been a frustrating day, and she had made this very easy for me.  (My frustrating day!  Really!  This girl had been dealing with frustrated customers all day.)

She looked me right back in the eyes and started to tell me how much she'd enjoyed working with me. Then she went on to tell me how much I reminded her of her mother and how much she loved her mother.  The encounter ended with tears trying to well in her eyes.  When I left, I was still tired and hungry, but instead of the frustration I'd felt earlier, I just felt warm all over.  There was a spring in my step.  Life is good, and I like to think that both of us spread love out into the world around us.

Celebrating the Ordinary

Just minutes after midnight with the stroke of President Obama’s pen, I got my job (and my paycheck) back.  Something has been different all day. My usual workday wake-up call at 5:20 a.m. didn’t seem as painfully early as it usually does.  Despite some confusing communication relating to calling us back to work, my morning routine was, well, routine.  I walked out of the door at almost the same time I always do, joyfully accepted my free tabloid paper from the distributor, and jumped on the escalator down to the train.  I waited about two minutes for my train, changed trains at the normal station, and arrived at work to say “Good morning!” to the same security guard who frequently greets me.  While my computer was booting up, I took my lunch to the refrigerator.  I headed to a meeting that I normally just tolerate.

It was at that point that I began to notice something different this first day back after a 16-day furlough.  Although I was doing all the same things, I was consciously appreciative that I was getting to do them today.  After returning to my office and the stacks that awaited me, I smiled to myself as I joyfully jumped in to another routine task.  Sometimes it takes a jolt out of the routine to make me appreciate the ordinary.  Today I am celebrating the ordinary.