Saturday, December 16, 2017

About words



As I watch in disbelief how our human race  seemingly completely willingly marches towards the abyss, I think about words, how much they matter, how they can and do shape our thoughts and reality. And, at times, I feel completely hopeless (like today). And then I remember, I have a blog, which amplifies my small voice and I can use my voice for something good. 

For instance, just yesterday, as if to prove this point, it was reported that the current United States administration literally banned certain words from use in the official CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention) documents. Those were good, real words such as “fetus," "transgender," "diversity”...  

And while good words are being banned, there are so many terrible, gut-wrenching words out there in our collective consciousness. Words such as “pedophile," "rape," "pervert," "treason," "genocide," "terror” and others are now part of our AND our children’s daily lexicon.  “Fake news” was named the “word of the year” by Collins Dictionary. 

In his book, Politics and the English Language, George Orwell, wrote: “[...] if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought. A bad usage can spread by tradition and imitation even among people who should and do know better. [...] This invasion of one's mind by ready-made phrases […] can only be prevented if one is constantly on guard against them.” These awful words pound my psyche with such furiousness that being “on guard” requires every ounce of my being. 

Elif Shafak, in her TED talk “The revolutionary power of diverse thought” says that words not only have an immense power to shape thoughts, but that words can have color and taste.

So this is the punch line of today's poorly written blog post: as an antidote to all this awfulness and darkness, I would like to remind myself and anyone who comes across this blog of all the good, sturdy, positive and inspiring words.

I invite all of you to a feast of some lovely words, some my favorite words in English language. I invite you to taste them together with me, say them out loud, guard them, paint the world with their beauty, and share them with others. Let these words go deep into the soul of our universal consciousness and grow in the most unexpected and wonderful directions from there.

Here we go!

•         Abundance
•         Courage
•         Deliberately  
•         Doer
•         Eloquence
•         Freedom
•         Gratitude
•         Grace
•         Handling it
•         Heartwarming
•         Harmony
•         Helpful
•         Home 
     Hope
•         Integrity
•         Kindness
•         Laughter
•         Love
•         Mindful
•         Passion
•         Persistence
•         Possible
•         Resilience 
•         Serendipity          
•         Spiritual
•         Soulful
•         Sweet
•         Together 
•         Transcendence
•         World-wide



Sunday, October 8, 2017

About fear


Me: Let me ask you a question - what would you do if you weren't afraid?
Coaching client: [Silence]
Me: Don't rush answering it, I will wait. 
Coaching client: Hmmm [barely audible] What do you mean? In what context?
Me: In whichever context that's most relevant in your life - professionally, personally, spiritually. What would you do if you weren’t afraid of [_____________] fill in the blank: failing, looking foolish, being yourself…
Coaching client: [Silence]
Me:  You need time to think it over... Sure. I understand.


“What would you do if you were not afraid?”

As a coach, I get to ask people difficult to answer questions. One of my favorite questions is “what would you do if you were not afraid?” Why? Because from my own experience, and from the experience of working with many people, I am convinced that underneath a lot of camouflage, it is some fear that’s holding us back. Especially, in our dangerous and unpredictable world, being fearful has its own very un-pretty significance. But this blog post isn't about the state of the World. It's about the state of our own internal world. 

“What would you do if you were not afraid?”

When I ask this question I get a whole wide range of responses. Anything from pregnant silence, to tears, to more specific action steps such as "I would join the circus." In one instance, after grueling 6 months engagement with a client to help her "integrate better" into her "dream job," the answer was "I would walk out the door right now and open my own business. The job is mine but the dream wasn't really mine. It was my parents’ dream. I have a totally different dream." 

“What would you do if you were not afraid?”

In some way a question like this contains something very raw and primal in its core. It’s not dressed up in niceties – it’s all naked. Truth be told - we are all afraid. Fear drives so many major life’s decisions for so many of us (present company included). Answering this question requires us to lift the hood of our rusty, complicated consciousness and look inside. This act itself demands courage. It taunts us. It buzzes like a bee on the flower blossom, anxious and impatient: are you ready to look your deepest fear straight in the eye? Yikes!

“What would you do if you were not afraid?”

And the biggest proverbial slap in the face comes when we realized that once we say it, once we make the answer known, once we give it form, even just in our own minds, it will forever be out there, in the land of things known and realized. We won’t be able to shove it back into the unconscious, under the hood. And therefore, we will never be able to "un-know” it anymore. What then? Will it haunt us? And will it -- gasp -- demand action? 

“What would you do if you were not afraid?”

Since most of us don't want to peel the onion or look inside the infernos of our souls, understandably so,  timidness and denial set in. They take different forms: stalling, "extreme case of busy-ness," forgetfulness to respond to an email or text. Then anger may join the party. Sometimes that anger could be directed at the loved ones or at the coach (‘how dare you make me look in the face of my fear?”) And yet sometimes real breakthroughs happen…These breakthroughs are not fast, not easy, and may take decades to bring to reality.
But at one point or another in our lives, we could and should take the plunge. We are compelled to answer the call of destiny and verbalize that which our soul had known all along. And then we can say to ourselves “heck yes!”

Think about it. Fear was designed for us to protect ourselves, but I think we overdeveloped it. And it's now protecting us from living our best, fullest lives. Maybe the questions isn’t “what would you do if you were not afraid,” but rather


“What would you do in spite of fear?”

Saturday, May 27, 2017

Because nothing matters anymore?


In the current political and cultural climate, a new chilling phrase has been making the rounds. When something unthinkable, unprecedented, unreal, unbelievable, unpredictable happens, I often hear people say or read a headline that says "because nothing matters anymore."
"Nothing matters anymore..." This is one of the most terrifying phrases I heard in years, maybe ever.  It is the equivalent of "the patient is no longer responding to treatment. There is nothing else we can do." It sounds like "all bets are off" or "the situation is hopeless." When psychologists refer to a state of mind, a state of being when "nothing matters anymore" that's the classic sign of a deep depression. 

Wow... is this true!? Does nothing really matter anymore? Nothing at all? Not love? Not compassion? Not empathy? Basic human dignity? Not history? Truth? Freedom? Decency?  Goodness?  Wisdom? Nothing? If it's true, than it's devastating. 

Well, I am willing myself to not buy it. Everything matters. You matter. Life matters. And while we are digging ourselves out of the rut, this dark place, I will keep re-reading this wonderful quote by L.R. Knost and following her sage advice:

"Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you."


Onward, with love, light and intention! 

Friday, February 17, 2017

About Hate

My mom got called to the principal's office only once. It happened when I was 12. I recall that it was in April. I also remember that on the way back from school, holding her hand, I was grateful for the pouring rain because it hid tears that were running down my cheeks. 

I wasn't brilliant but I was a good student. In fact, I was good enough to have many of my classmates wanting to copy my homework and test answers, nearly daily. It actually went on for years. In America, that's called cheating and is frowned upon and highly discouraged (to say the least.) In the former Soviet Union cheating was not just expected, it was a kind of right of passage for every kid who "knew how to live well." I remember I was so angry. It was so unfair. I worked hard (as I said, I am no genius. Everything took work for me - from math to Russian grammar.) And then to see all my work to be copied in a matter of minutes by my classmates made my stomach turn. 

I bet you wonder why I kept giving them the answers then. Well, when I was 12 years old I couldn't explain why I was passively giving in. I didn't know how to put it into words. But now I do and the answer is simple and scary at the same time. I was giving in because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t, because I was bullied. I was bullied. All. Of. My. School. Life. Every single day. Not that there needs to be any special reason, but you might also wonder - why would anyone bully me? This answer is also pretty simple and scary at the same time. I was different. I was one of two Jewish kids in my school. And I was known as Жидовка - a Russian derogatory word for a woman or a girl of Jewish descent - whose only claim to this world, in the eyes of my classmates, was to provide homework and test answers to the Ukrainian and Russian children in the class. Bullying and torment took many forms and I won't write about that now because I don't want to dilute my key point and, also, because it hurts, a lot. 

And yes, before you ask, the teachers knew it. And, no, they didn't do anything. And, no, I could not complain to anyone except my parents and grandparents at home. But I rarely did that. It was just a part of life. It was part of my life as a girl growing up in a place where I was the unwanted member of society. And, upon reflection now, I think I may have believed that I could "win them over" one day. That one day they, my cheating bullies, will wake up and realize how wrong they had been. How terribly unfair they treated me. How interesting really was as a person. After all, I read cool books, I wrote poems, I drew in pencil and was pretty good at it, I could tell funny stories. And perhaps, I thought that, eventually, they will notice! And maybe they will even like me - just the way I am... what a silly little fool I had been.

But then one day it happened. All the rage that was building up for years, exploded. The kid's name was Vasya (Vasily) and we had been in the same class since we were both six years old (Soviet schools were the equivalent of K-12). He had a round face, small squinty eyes and the laugh of the Satan, or at least that’s how it sounded in my terrified 12-year-old mind. It would have been just another day. As usual, Vasya snapped his fat little fingers to signal that he was ready to copy my homework answers. But it wasn't an ordinary day. It was the day that something snapped in me and instead of giving him my papers with my neat handwriting, I said "no!" Except, I didn't just say it, I screamed "NO" with the primal fierceness of a caged animal. Vasya came closer to my desk and laughed his evil laugh, which attracted others to join in on the action. And then he looked me in the eye and said "Жидовка, дай по хорошему" (“you, Kike, better give it the easy way or else.") 

I repeated "No" but now in a quieter voice. 

He came closer. 

And then I grabbed my enormous school bag (important note about my bag: I was so worried that I would need some book unexpectedly that I carried all my books, for all my classes, making my bag weighing about a ton.) All the rage and indignation I felt, made my otherwise untrained muscles tingle with strength. 

I lifted my bag into the air, and smashed it into Vasya's still laughing face.

After that, everything moved really fast. Someone screamed. Someone else called the teacher. There was a commotion all around me. My mom's work was called and she was ordered to "report immediately to the principal's office." 

I broke Vasya's nose, either with my enormous bag or with the sheer force of my pent-up rage. Just in case you are wondering, physically he was fine. He had been in enough fights in his life before his face met my heavy bag. 

What happened next? Since I was otherwise a well-behaved (at least up until that moment) and good student, and because it was the Soviet Union, I got reprimanded by the principal and sent home.

My mom and I walked home in silence. The rain was beating down on us. I was crying. But these tears were not due to the despair I felt for getting in trouble... no, these tears were much worse - they were the symptom of the bottomless hopelessness and realization that there is no escape from this treatment. I cried because I knew that that I will always be Жидовка (kike, a dirty Jew). I cried because, as unfairly as I had been treated, as unfairly and harshly as Jews in the Soviet Union had been treated, it seemed impossible to change it. And I couldn't and wouldn't be able to fight every Vasya I would encounter with my bag.

It's been decades since that day. I rarely, if ever, talk about being bullied. So, why do these memories of daily torment and Antisemitism come to my mind now and I am compelled to share them on the World Wide Web? Because hate, including Antisemitism, is all around us…around me, more so than I ever felt it in years, in decades.  

Here are just a few latest examples:

Please don't misunderstand: this isn't only about me being bullied as a child in the former Soviet Union, while that, within itself is a sad and painful story. I beg you - do not overlook the bigger picture and message. It's a story about what happens when hate and active discrimination is just what's expected, when it becomes part of every day, when it's NORMAL. Bullying was just the process through which hate was systematically delivered to my soul, to diminish me, to use me and then eliminate me as a human being. 

I worry for our nation, our world and most of all for our children. Why do I worry? Because hate, including and specifically Antisemitism, seems to have new hope and is raising its horrible ugly head. What is giving hate the renewed hope and latitude it craves? I don’t know exactly. I have a few theories…

People will never be perfect, I get that. But we, the people of reason, can't watch hate organize itself and get institutionalized and normalized. It can NOT happen. So, this blog is an S.O.S. We must stop it now!

That rainy April afternoon, decades ago, as we approached our building, my mom hugged me and I saw so much love and pain in her eyes. She simply hugged me tight and said: "it's going to be alright.” And, now as a mom, I realize that the real message in her eyes was: "I am so sorry I can't protect you from this." 


My wish is to see the world where no child or a parent should ever experience this torment – emotional or physical. And my intent is to do what is in my power to support this vision of the world and to not let hate - in all its horrible forms - plant its ugly roots. 




#resist #spreadlove #notonmywatch #nohate

Friday, January 20, 2017

Still I Rise

I am the dream and the hope of immigrants...I am an immigrant....I am an American....I am a woman....

Still I Rise! 

Maya Angelou, 1928 - 2014

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
I
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise 

Thursday, January 12, 2017

About the proverbial "other"



Have you ever felt like "the other?" You know what I mean, right? Have you ever felt like "those" people who are "not like the rest,” those who are not “normal?" Not completely accepted? 

C’mon, think hard. Think back to that moment in your life when you felt like an outsider. Yes... remember that metallic taste in your mouth? No? 

Well, let me try a few examples to refresh your memory.

Were you the only Italian kid on an all Irish block?
Were you the only kid who had freckles?
Were you the only person in the room who didn't know that salad fork goes on the left side of the plate?
How about the only one who didn't have both parents?
The only one from the “East side?”
That CNN reporter in the lobby of the Trump Tower?
The only one with a pierced nose?
The only one with a tattoo of a dragon on your chests or the only one without the tattoo?
The only one with braces?
The only "newbie" with no skills and no experience?
An unloved stepchild?
Stepparent?
How about, the only one of a different ("the other") race?
Color?
Sexual orientation? 
Ethnicity?
Country?
Religion?
Gender?

Yes, I know. It hurts to remember, doesn't it? I guess, if we all dig deep enough, at one point or another, we have all been in that dark place of being "the other." 

Hopefully, for all of you that dark place and time were brief and nearly impossible to recall. But if you are truly honest with yourself, has it left a mark? And, if it did, for what purpose? 

Being the “other” means that you don't ever belong, and a sense of belonging is one of the most critical conditions for a fulfilling life (smart research tells us). Being the "other" means knowing that if you are on your best behavior you have a hope of being tolerated... and, if you don't conform, you could enter a real danger zone of various extremes and varieties.

I have been "the other" all of my life. Let me repeat it so that you don’t for a moment think that this statement found its way into this blog post by accident.  Drum roll please…I have been "the other" all of my life.  And now, I can say that it is a heartbreaking and a character (soul?) building, as well as a humbling experience. 


When I was a little girl I was "the other" because I was the only Jewish girl in my class and one of two Jewish kids in my school, and a hated minority in my country of birth. Later in life I was the other because I am "a Russian immigrant." Later still I was the "other" while trying “to find my religion” in a Brooklyn reform temple; then - because I have an accent in English and in Russian (my native language), then as the only woman on a business trip... And so on...

But at some point, probably over a course of many years, I have embraced my "otherness" AND, this is most critical, I realized that there are many of us. And together - we are ONE. Remember? “…One nation under god indivisible with liberty and justice for all.” I am different just like you are different and that makes us the same. I own it now. The "otherness" in me has transformed itself into "oneness" with all of YOU. I carry it – this spirit – as a unique badge of honor and a source of pride. 


What helped me get there, you ask? I am convinced that it was the spirit of America built by those who were the "others" someplace else, who came here to build a better life, to create a world where they could belong. 


So what's my point? I have two: one – to share the depth of profound despair, fear and hopelessness I am experiencing recently, watching what's going in this beautiful country of ours and around the world. And to also pose some questions so that we can step into the pool of light of our collective hearts, that endless pool of our collective humanity and perhaps reshape the dialogue...and maybe even our future?

My dear friends - I ask you... are we losing that sense of "oneness” as a nation? How about the sense of humanness in us? Have we already lost it? Have we ever truly had it?  
I can tell you that I feel that I am losing it, that feeling of belonging here in America is escaping me. My scars of the “otherness” started to hurt when it rains. I think people's empathy and humanness have begun to atrophy and disappear. I think that amnesia is setting in and history is repeating... and I am terrified.



What’s the core of this discourse? I believe it is the proverbial (and at times very real!) contempt-filled finger-pointing at the proverbial (and at times very real!) “others.”

So, I ask you, now that you have recalled what it felt like to be the "other," why would you ever, through your direct and indirect actions, inflict it on anyone else? 

This blog is about my life as I know it... as I know it in any given moment of writing a post. In this moment, on this ridiculously warm January evening, I ask you to think about these things I bring to your attention and to act in accordance with the depth of which your soul is capable of... because we are ONE. There are no “others.” It’s just us,  on one small blue planet. 



Saturday, December 17, 2016

Favorite quotes from some of the books I read in 2016


Sway: The Irresistible Pull of Irrational Behavior by Ori Brafman, Rom Brafman
~ Value attribution, after all, acts as a quick mental shortcut to determine what’s worthy of our attention. […] Once we attribute a certain value to a person or thing, it dramatically alters our perceptions of subsequent information. This power of value attribution is so potent that it affects us even when the value is assigned completely arbitrarily. 

~ If you’ve ever been fortunate enough to work for a boss who values and believes in you, you’ll know that you tend to rise to meet the high expectations set for you. On the other hand, there’s nothing that will make you feel more incompetent and demoralized than a supervisor who is convinced you don’t have what it takes.

~ The more we become aware of the factors affecting the perceived value of a person or object, the less likely we are to be swayed by value attribution. 

Place Called Freedom by Ken Follett
~ The law makes no decisions. It has no will of its own. It’s like a weapon, or a tool: it works for those who pick it up and use it.

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah
~ They think talking about a problem will solve it. I come from a quieter generation. We understand the value of forgetting. 

~ She gave herself over to the sensations of the kiss, let it become the whole of her universe, and knew finally how it felt to be enough for someone.

~ […] everything makes a statement, nothing speaks quite so loudly as cheapness 

~ some images, once seen, can never be forgotten. 

~ Sophie was too old for lies and too young for the truth. 

~ She looked at Vianne, and the universe of their friendship was in her eyes—the secrets they’d shared, the promises they’d made and kept, the dreams for their children that bound them as neatly as sisters.

~ Once a mother, always a mother.


~ […] I am a mother and mothers don’t have the luxury of falling apart in front of their children, even when they are afraid, even when their children are adults. 


~ “Papa,” she said; it was such a big word suddenly, a dream in its entirety.


The Language of Trust: Selling Ideas in a World of Skeptics by Michael Maslansky, Gary DeMoss, Scott West, David Saylor
~ In my experience, overcoming skepticism is much more about emotion than it is about rationality. People must want to believe you before they will believe you. Much of the job of effective communication is about building that foundation of openness so that a message can be accepted. 

~ We are now communicating in the post-trust era (PTE). Yesterday’s trust has become today’s skepticism. 

~ We don’t want to be told what to think. If you are a parent, you have certainly learned that the quickest way to get your children to say no to something is to tell them that it is good for them. 

~ If you’re trying to sell something—widgets, ideas, candidates, anything—you face an uphill battle from the start because, quite frankly, people just don’t believe you, especially if you’re the one in charge.

~ Institutions must stand for something. Now more than ever, companies must actively think about what their brands symbolize to the public. 

~ Your language must be strategic, authentic, humble, and receptive to opposition.

~ The language of trust is the language of your audience. 

~ The fastest way to get someone to buy your product is to give them objective information and let them make up their own mind. 

~ Selling is about building trust, then offering the facts in a neutral, nonintimidating way and allowing the consumer to decide

~ When humorist Will Rogers noted that “A stranger is just a friend I haven’t met yet” nearly a century ago, he was in a very real sense capturing part of today’s mind-set for creating trust. When you engage people as friends you haven’t met yet, you start building the personal relationships that will guide you past today’s walls of initial skepticism. 

While You Were Mine by Ann Howard Creel
~ Separately we might have sunk, but together we moved beyond bloodlines and nationalities and backgrounds and formed a vessel that somehow stayed afloat. 

~ If faces could tell stories, then John’s was open to the page where all seemed lost. 

~ […] New York City. He didn’t think there was any other place on earth where a person could be surrounded by throngs of others and still feel completely alone. A man could keep entirely to himself if he wanted to, or he could tell his story to every shoeshine, waitress, and hawker in the city. He could isolate himself in a hotel room or go out on the town, surrounded by thousands of people. There was something sad about it, all these people rushing around, but a man would never feel dead here. Just take a new street, or turn the next corner. Everything was so busy and in constant motion, and maybe that was part of the problem. 

~ Maybe humans, instead of being the highest form of life, were really the lowest.

~ Sometimes you know something, even when you don’t want to know it.

Яма by Александр Иванович Куприн (The Pit, by Aleksandr Ivanovich Kuprin –Russian edition) 
~ Нет, вы подумайте: ведь только в одной русской душе могут ужиться такие противоречия!

~ Я говорю, что жизнь поражает, ставит в тупик своей диковинной путаницей и неразберихой.

~ Все мы проходим мимо этих характерных мелочей равнодушно, как слепые, точно не видя, что они валяются у нас под ногами. 

~ Потому что сама по себе жизнь или чересчур обыденна и скучна для тебя, или уж так чересчур неправдоподобна, как только умеет быть неправдоподобной жизнь. 

~ Человек рожден для великой радости, для беспрестанного творчества, в котором он — бог, для широкой, свободной, ничем не стесненной любви ко всему […]

~ Пока будет собственность, будет и нищета. Пока существует брак, не умрет и проституция. Знаешь ли ты, кто всегда будет поддерживать и питать проституцию? Это так называемые порядочные люди, благородные отцы семейств, безукоризненные мужья, любящие братья. 

The Secret Healer (The Secret Healer Series) by Ellin Carsta
~ You have to make a decision and live with the consequences

~ But we all make mistakes. Some more than others. And yet, we always have the opportunity to do better next time.

~ “I believe that God gives us challenges to overcome. It’s his way of letting us grow.” “So do you think that God is just testing me?” “It’s possible.” “But why?” “Only He knows why. We are too unenlightened to understand everything, but we can rely on the fact that all will be well in the end.” “How do you know? That it will end well?” “I just know. Believe me. One day, you will understand all of this.”   

~ “Why are there incredible people like you, and also those who want nothing more than to see people hang?” She tried to smile. “So that balance is not lost.” 

Sales Management. Simplified.: The Straight Truth About Getting Exceptional Results from Your Sales Team by Mike Weinberg
~ Three core pillars of sales leadership—leading, managing, and coaching

~ Often, what is believed to be a sales problem turns out to be a leadership and culture problem.

~ True sales hunters are a unique and rare breed. The majority of sales teams are composed mostly of farmers (account managers) and engineers (product/service experts). 

~ The leader who is constantly preaching about holding people accountable for results and doesn’t follow through does more damage than if he hadn’t said anything in the first place. 
~ Salespeople are not paid to do work, or to be busy. The job is to drive revenue—specifically, new revenue. 

~ The salesperson doesn’t establish herself as a professional or assert control by setting up the meeting, sharing her agenda, and getting buy-in from the customer. Sellers approach the sales call already in presentation mode and are too quick to jump to a demo or presentation. Salespeople talk way too much and listen way too little. It’s very hard to come across as a professional problem solver when you don’t discover the customer’s real issues. As I’m fond of repeating: Discovery precedes presentation—always! 

~ The job of the sales manager is not to manage the sales department. Your primary job is to drive sales. There is no extra credit for dividing your time equally across all of your people, but there is fame and fortune for the sales leader who consistently over-delivers on results. 

~ Individual Business Plans Are a Gift to the Sales Leader 

  1. Goals—What are you going to achieve? 
  2. Strategies—How are you going to do it? 
  3. Actions—What are you going to do? 
  4. Obstacles—What’s in the way? 
  5. Personal Development, Growth, and Motivation—How do you want to grow this year and what will keep you motivated? 
~ Sales leaders, be wary of your tendency to chase after the next shiny new sales toy promising to alter the course of history. […] I have yet to encounter a sales team that failed to deliver what was expected of them because they were missing some newfangled sales tool or process. […] Sales teams underperform because sales leaders ignore or botch the very fundamentals of sales management.

The Midwife's Revolt (The Midwife Series Book 1) by Jodi Daynard
~ But I was also learning to defer. To defer was the lot of womankind.

~ How indifferent Nature can seem, at times, to our suffering!

~ Once you see a patient’s eyes shine with gratitude—well, if your heart does not break or your blood cringe, you are called for life. 

~ I was new at loss then, not a master as I am now.

~ Between pain and harm, my mother taught me, lay a vast moral divide. Sometimes one must cause pain to avoid harm. This lesson was my mother’s great gift to me. 

The Whole Brain Business Book, Second Edition: Unlocking the Power of Whole Brain Thinking in Organizations, Teams, and Individuals by Ned Herrmann, Ann Herrmann-Nehdi
~ Applying Whole Brain Thinking means being able to fully leverage one’s own preferences, stretch to other styles when necessary, and adapt to and take advantage of the preferences of those around you to improve performance and results.

~ Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal. —Albert Camus

~ Preference is a matter of attraction; competence to perform a given task comes through training and experience. Competence can be developed to reasonable or even superior levels whether or not the person is attracted to the task (necessity can be the mother of competency). But true expertise and world-class competence are achieved almost exclusively in our areas of preference. 

~ Situational wholeness is the key to improving your personal effectiveness.

~ While people with strikingly different thinking preferences often have difficulty understanding each other, those with very similar thinking preferences can become competitive with each other. 

~ […] in many business situations, creativity is the element that makes the difference between success and failure. It can be the make-or-break competitive advantage, since we know that creativity is mental, and mental diversity is a key to the creative process. Business leaders who understand the significance of diversity in the creative process can take advantage of their organization’s potential by forming teams that are made up of people with different thinking-style preferences. 

~ No matter whom you are trying to influence, when you’re able to “meet them where they think,” you’ll be more efficient, and you’ll have a better chance of getting the response you’re looking for. 

~ I’m not suggesting that you abandon your natural preferences. Rather, this is about using your strengths more effectively in service of the business’s needs and, just as important, learning to see beyond the mental blind spots that may have resulted from your having applied and reinforced your preferences over the course of your life, education, and career. Embracing complexity requires constant learning and exposure to diverse points of view. 

~ Sometimes leaders at the top say they want a change agent, but then when they realize what that means—that at a personal level, they may need to go about doing things a little differently—their reaction is, ‘Are you kidding? We really don’t want to do things that way.’ 

~ Positive, creative change requires a mindset for change. A mindset is the way we see things, the part of our “cognitive unconscious” where we have already formed mental maps that become our point of reference for how we look at the world. 

~ I discovered that the public rewarded trying to be an artist to a far greater degree than it punished poor execution of the finished art. I found that the rewards outweighed the risks to such an extent that my activity level soon gave me the practice that I needed to overcome the skill deficits of a beginner. 

~ Man’s mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions. —Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.