letting go to connect

I'm struck once again by the power of letting go. Okay, it was my smart friend, Mandy, who called this to my attention earlier this week on another topic - but the notion is apt here. We went to last week's Internal Branding Conference together to investigate what the super stars (IBM, AON, Genentech, Mayo Clinic, American Eagle) are doing to engage employees as ambassadors for their brands.

Wow, there are a lot of impressive, major-budget initiatives - beautifully messaged and packaged, slick, expensive. I keep wondering how much all of this really resonates with employees?

It boils down to letting go. It's not about hierarchies, perfect "messaging ladders," leadership authority, fancy branding or change management models. It's about asking people to step into a conversation and listening, and then taking action. Whether they use cutting edge Web 2.0 social media tools or in-person focus groups, successful leaders are letting go of the need to have all the answers. Rather, they're having the courage to ask employees to step up with some answers of their own, and staying out the way while the ride gets a little wild, a little scary...but in the end, produces much more credible answers because the people who work there figured it out, not their marketing or HR folks.

Sure, top leadership (and marketing and HR) must have the vision to tap into the paradigm shift underway here. But none of this is rocket science. This is not about jazz hands and sparkle ponies. It's about emergent collaboration. It means we all need to stop worrying and relinquish control.

Calm, grounded detachment is something I remind myself to embrace often, especially during a week like this. I've got a client that I'm trying to help who is fearfully clinging to her last illusory threads of control. She's making everyone around her nuts, including me. She's a very senior person in a large organization, so she's able to inflict a lot of damage. As much for her as for myself, I'm reminded of an idea that I attribute to Margaret Wheatley (although I can't verify this - if you know the source, please share it with me). I guess this one's for both of us:

Show up and listen fully, speak the gentle truth, let go of the outcome.

jazz hands and sparkle ponies

At this week's ALI 22nd Internal Branding Conference, I was temporarily seduced, impressed, intimidated by and envious of the parade of gorgeous initiatives that were trotted out before us. Big budgets, slick messaging, award-winning packaging. All this talk about "brand ambassadors" was making me very uneasy...I felt my feet leave the ground, as I floated up into the heady stuff these marketing super stars were promoting.

And then Chris Thornton from Pfizer took the stage and brought me back to earth. He told how they built trust and credibility without all the chitchat or big production. In Chris' words, it wasn't about jazz hands and sparkle ponies, but about coming clean and passing the sniff test.

In other words, having the courage to tell the truth without spin, have real conversations with employees, and do a few things that really matter vs. too many things that have no impact. Some ideas worth trying (some jazzier than others):

American Eagle uses digital recorders to "get the voice" of employees in action, then uses employee News Agents to blog about what's happening throughout the company.

IBM uses video-taped interviews with employees around the world to ask them what they need to evangelize IBM with friends and family, then creates story-telling tools based on this input.

Pfizer stripped its employee development intranet of really boring academic, HR-y, process-driven content, replacing it with a "life event" approach to accessing tools ("Help! I'm a new manager - now what?").

Several employers use audio branding to ignite a little excitement on intranets, at events, around the office. I've been grooving on Kaiser Permanente's Thrive CD mix in my car all week.

I do think a smart marriage between cool marketing and strategic HR can happen. In fact, they need each other - on their own, they each miss a crucial side of the story. What makes me nervous is that it's already too tempting to gloss over the tough decisions and fierce conversations that most employers would rather avoid. Throw a few sparkle ponies at the problem, and you won't have to deal with all that jazz, right?

conscious choices

I was information-interviewed by a bright young woman today, freshly laid off from her fast-track career, mother of two under two. Yikes. She's eager to "keep the intensity" and get back on her horse, now. Her resume is impressive. Her story and language and credentials all very brainy and smart and big. Turns out we both went to the same undergrad - no wonder I recognized that young woman on the other end of the telephone. We both learned to keep the intensity from the same place.

And yet, in between or underneath it all, I heard the beginning of a question: is this right for me? It wasn't so much what she said as a sense I got. I couldn't help myself...and told her to slow down. To look around. Take a breath. Design her life, consciously, with eyes open. 

I know nothing about her situation - if she has to work, chooses to work, loves to work. All I know is that she's been handed a big, fat opportunity to be still. Breath. Think. Feel. Let go. Then choose well, with intention.

works of art

My friend Paul is artistic director of a local, world class, ahead-of-its-
time-can-Washington, DC-handle-this? dance company, CityDance. Paul and his team of seriously talented artists are up to fabulous things, chronicled in his blog. CityDance, Paul, his blog - works of art not to be missed.

puppy love

Astro's been teaching me about how to pay attention to the details of life. And a lot about flexibility.

After 7 weeks of resenting (and griping about) the dog care details that have invaded my life, I'm officially head-over-heels in love with him. Go figure.

Having discovered the joys of Dogtopia and an enthusiastic dog walker, we all seem to be settling in nicely. 

Update on 2008-12-02 15:09 by Kelly O'Brien

Astro's been kicked out of doggy daycare. Is this what it feels like when your kid gets sent to the principal's office, or worse - expelled? Am trying to be a good parent: open to our dog's role in the situation (apparently, he's become an "aggressive" player and barks insistently when others won't play), and questioning Dogtopia's efforts to manage the situation.

We found a new spot for him, Your Dog's Best Friend. As with any dependant creature who just wants love and attention, it's not about the daycare, it's about us making time for Astro.

lifestyle design 101?

I know that I didn't invent the concept of designing a life, but apparently I've also been living under a rock and totally missed the whole FHWW (Four Hour Work Week) movement coined by Tim Ferriss. This guy sounds pretty intense, a 30-year old Princeton grad who lives the life of an action figure.

Before I get all judgey or envious, I'll read his book and see what I can learn. He advocates a basic (albeit not easy) formula to work less, earn what you need and live fully. The keys apparently include creating a passive income stream, outsourcing time-consuming life tasks, mini-retirements throughout life, and knowing the difference between absolute vs. relative income.

Since turning 45 this past January, I keep thinking about how "someday" is now. Someday I'll study art, someday I'll spend more time with my nieces, someday I'll live overseas. That would be now, Kel - or at least put wheels in motion. Digging out from the rubble of my 30's has been my first priority in recent years. The smoke has cleared. Life is stable. I feel that I am living my life in a conscious, fully-engaged way. I'm not on auto-pilot. But the occasional kick in the pants that ruts, complacency and deferred living are easy for me to slip back into is a good thing.

I am curious about the details behind Tim's concepts - do they work for non-action figures too?

Update on 2008-06-18 00:30 by Kelly O'Brien

I finally finished Tim's book. While I'm not ready to ditch it all and put my voicemail on permanent forward, I am experimenting with a few "radical" ideas:

• check email only twice per day (this one's harder to do than I thought it would be)
• stop feeling guilty about my 3-week retreat to Penland this summer - by Ferriss' standards, this is child's play
• start planning my next retreat, this time for way longer (well, okay, maybe 4 weeks - but still!)
• start using a virtual assistant for time-consuming tasks I can delegate - my latest brainstorm is to outsource my menu planning and grocery shopping to YourManInIndia.
  
• explore how to make real money in the paper/bookarts biz
  

My biggest takeaway from his book? That I'm on the right track, actually. I am living my muse, at least sometimes. At the end of the book, he writes about what to do with all the free time I'll gain by automating my income through some well-niched product. These pursuits include learning, travel, giving back, doing what you love, spending time to build relationships. I'd say I'm 60% there. Do I want more "free" time for these things? Absolutely. But I've already done the hardest part by having the courage to live a life of my design, not someone else's.

archetypes

They're everywhere, these ancient inherent truths... and an example of how things seem to be converging in my life. Reintroduced to them in 2006 by my acupuncturist (Pilar, an amazing healer), I'm now an avid student of them. They just make so much sense, on a number of levels.

They have some pretty intriguing applications, some of which I'm exploring through my client work (branding and organizational development), and through my art. Just this morning, Julia Cameron made reference to them in her book, Walking in This World. If you don't know her work, you should.

Don't take my word for it, though - check archetypes out for yourself.

my life, (re)designed

Back in April 2003, I had a minor car accident that was a major wake-up call. No need to rehash the drama here, but suffice it to say that at the age of 40, life was not turning out as I had planned. The past five years have been a slow, steady, intentional re-design of my life. I'm guessing that I'm not the only woman who's figured some things out the hard way, so if you're out there and want to compare notes, please join in! In the meantime, here's where I'll explore, integrate and share what it means to continue designing my life.