Most people love to receive gifts. So when someone gives us the gift of honesty, why do we rebel? When we are offered feedback, why do we get defensive or angry? Are our egos so delicate?

In fact we are conditioned to do this, to defend ourselves from attackers, to be right. We also generally believe we are good people, and so if someone got hurt we want to believe that it wasn’t our fault. Yet the way we treat feedback is almost perfectly designed to increase the likelihood that we will repeat our mistakes.

We need new guidelines for how to receive feedback. Our current methods certainly aren’t working.

So here is my 3 step process for receiving feedback.

1. Action. Find out what specifically you did. What were the actions you took?

2. Impact. Find out how your actions affected others feelings, perceptions, behaviors, results.

3. Decision. Decide on a new behavior or action you can take in the future that will result in a better impact.

It’s your feedback AID.

Who was right doesn’t matter. Who made mistakes doesn’t matter. You took an action that created a result that was different from what you and/or the other person wanted. So you identified a new behavior to create a more desirable outcome in the future.

On the acknowledgements page of the first draft of my first book I wrote that words could not describe my love for my wife. My editor slashed that with a thick red marker and told me, “Yes they can. You just don’t know how to use them properly.”

She was right of course.

Yeats, Dickinson, Shakespeare, Frost. They had used words to describe a love that deep.

So in my next draft I tried to tell what I thought was the truth. I wrote that I didn’t know the words to describe my love for my wife. Again. Red marker. She said, “You’re an author. Do better.”

So here’s what I wrote.

Above all, to my wife Beatrice, thank you for your laughter and your spirit. Your unwavering support has lifted me up and inspired me through every draft of this book and everything I do in life.

No red marker.

Happy Valentine’s Day to you all. Good luck finding the words you need today.

BONUS: I think there’s a really important lesson here. Twice I thought I delivered my best work to my editor. Twice I thought that work was good. Twice my editor told me to do better. Who can push you further? Who delivers honest feedback to you? Cherish that person. Thank them for the feedback they provide. And push yourself to do better.

WARNING: This post might be somewhat US ethnocentric.

Do you remember how the Olympics used to be? When I was a kid there was nothing bigger than the Olympics. For months beforehand advertisers waged fierce campaigns. Then during the event it dominated everything in our lives – TV, newspapers, our conversations.

This week when I saw an ad that the Olympics were beginning in 5 days, it caught me by surprise. I had no idea.

Why is that? What’s changed?

There are two explanations. First, they split the Olympics in two. Now it comes around every two years. It’s more regular and when it happens it doesn’t last as long. It’s a two week event instead of an 8 month extravaganza.

Second, the Cold War ended. We used to care deeply about whether the US or the USSR won more medals. It was more important than who won the World Series or Super Bowl that year. It was more important than who won the election that year. (Yes, remember that? We used to have the winter and summer Olympics and the Presidential election all in one year.)

Think about this in your own life. Do you want to make a really big deal out of something? If you do, concentrate it in a single, focused event, and find yourself a rival.

Want your company to start the year strong? Run a sales competition.

Doing a PTA fundraiser? Create a competition with another school.

Releasing a new product (like a book)? Make a big deal out of the launch, focusing everyone on a specific event.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go watch the Olympics. Or maybe not. No big deal either way.

When is the last time you bit your tongue? Or stubbed your toe?

These are minor mistakes within everyday practices. You eat and walk so much that these are somewhat inevitable. They come with the territory. They’re good.

When was your last car accident? Was it your fault? Be honest.

This is a dangerous mistake born of inattention to an important process. This isn’t good.

When was the last time you took on a task that was beyond your ability? You lacked the skill but had the enthusiasm. Or you stepped up because someone had to do it. Then you bombed. You made a big mistake. Maybe you had a huge public failure.

This is good. No. In fact, it’s great. It means you are giving yourself the chance to learn and grow and achieve something spectacular.

When we avoid the possibility of big mistakes we accept stasis. We accept that this is just how our world will be from now on. We’ve opted for predictability and comfort and accepted routine and boredom in the package.

When we try to avoid even the little mistakes it is as though we curl up in a fetal position and shut out the world. Fear is our guide.

Mistakes are good.

Mistakes are fantastic.

Mistakes let us know we are still alive. And trying. And thriving.

We all sell. Whether it’s a new car to a customer, an idea to our spouse, Girl Scout cookies as a 7-year old. We are all always selling.

So what makes a great sales person?

Salespeople need charisma. That’s what I’ve heard. But I’ve also coached sales people for more than 10 years. The successful ones are all alike, but it isn’t because of their charisma. It’s their curiosity.

Charisma can breed admiration and desire for a relationship, but it also wears thin shortly after.

Curiosity on the other hand is the most powerful sales tool you can find. Curiosity about the buyer will lead to a conversation about the buyers favorite topic – themselves. Curiosity helps you understand the other person. It leads to the discovery of connections and builds a solid relationship. And eventually, it uncovers the needs that lead you to a sale.

Charisma may get you a sale, but it will be a quick sale on a weak foundation, one that can easily lead to buyer’s remorse and few future sales.

Curiosity gives you a sale with a strong relationship that opens up all kinds of future opportunities. So be patient. Ask great questions. Care about the answers. The sales will come.

A friend asked me how I could blog every day. How can I keep finding new content? I said I worried about the same thing – until I created a system. A system makes it easy.

First, the moment anything at all strikes me as interesting I write it down, even if it is a two word note to remind me for future use.

Second, I look for batches of blogs. One day of jury duty gave me 3 blogs about opportunity, fault, and influence. A speech for the Miami Children’s Hospital gave me 1, 2, 3, 4 blog posts.

Third, if I don’t have anything at the ready I have a dozen websites – blogs, news sites, video sites – that I look through for inspiration.

In fact, with the system I’ve never felt at a loss. And this is equally true for just about anything.

You want to build a business? What’s your system for contacting new prospects and servicing existing clients?

You want to keep a clean house? What’s your system for which rooms get cleaned and which tasks performed on what days?

You want to have more confidence? What’s your system for bolstering yourself when you would otherwise shrink?

There’s even a system for holding your breath a world record 17 minutes and 4 seconds. All it takes is a system. Piece of cake.

On Thursday I spoke at the annual planning meeting for the Miami Children’s Hospital (MCH) senior leadership team. It was unbelievably moving. I’ve already written about what I learned from from their mascot, one of their honorees, and their audience. Here’s my final lesson from MCH.

Not everyone is as lucky as you are. I’ve written about this before, but in the context of this event it bears repeating. On Thursday I watched a woman describe the events of her daughter’s time as a patient at MCH, a time that was years ago. Still, she could hardly begin her story before she was taken by tears. Choked up, she struggled on to relay her full story – one with a happy ending.

I watched doctors and nurses who were part of the MCH Haiti Support team describe the absolute horror of their trips to Haiti. They described the children in need of amputations and other extreme care. They told one specific story that was too horrible for me to repeat here.

Then I recall my friend Rob who originally brought MCH to my attention. Rob, whose son Will suffers from seizures. Rob, who has cared for Will through three brain surgeries and countless drug therapies. Rob, who more often than anyone else I know points out how lucky he is.

Remember your luck. Be thankful. It is a powerful force in good times and bad.

On Thursday I spoke at the annual planning meeting for the Miami Children’s Hospital (MCH) senior leadership team. It was unbelievably moving. I’ve already written about what I learned from from their mascot and one of their honorees. Here’s my third lesson from MCH.

It felt like a bipartisan State of the Union address. Every few minutes some new name was mentioned, someone else was honored, a new person was brought to the stage, and each time this group burst into applause . . . and stood. A standing ovation every few minutes or so.

But State of the Union isn’t right. Those ovations always feel canned to me. This was more like a Viennese crowd after a Placido Domingo encore. This audience was genuinely thrilled, ecstatic for their colleagues, employees, leaders, donors, and speakers. Everyone in that ballroom felt it. I’ve been to a lot of organization meetings like this. I’ve never seen such genuine caring and enthusiasm.

There is something magical that happens when you go past applause to a standing ovation. Applause is expected. It’s natural. It’s part of the cultural norm. Group setting. Someone is recognized, a segment ends. Clap your hands. That’s the way it’s done.

Standing ovations are different. They feel extraordinary – on the giving and receiving end. Here’s the sad part. We don’t give them because we don’t want to embarrass ourselves. How often have you been in an audience and thought about standing up for an ovation, but you didn’t want to be the only one? You didn’t want to stick out or appear foolish.

But it’s worth it. Whatever embarrassment you might feel is worth the benefit – of being the leader, the trendsetter who gets everyone else up; of being the benefactor of the pride the person in front of the room feels; of being the beneficiary of the joy that comes from making someone else’s day. It’s worth it.

Truth is, you may not be in an audience like this too often. So what’s the equivalent in your world? Where are your opportunities for over the top enthusiastic recognition of the people around you? Figure it out. It’s magical for them and for you.

On Thursday I spoke at the annual planning meeting for the Miami Children’s Hospital (MCH). It was unbelievably moving. Yesterday I wrote about what I learned from from their mascot. Here’s my second day of lessons from MCH.

Lynnette was one of the employees honored at the event. While this is the first time she has been formally recognized by the hospital it is not her first time being recognized. Patient families regularly thank her and write letters to the hospital expressing their appreciation for how Lynnette has helped them through a difficult time. So what is her job?

Nurse? Doctor? Chaplain? Does she run the family care center? Is she the masseuse on staff?

No. Lynnette runs the checkout in the cafeteria. Her job description says her role is to ring up customers’ food and take their money. Provide change. That’s it.

But Lynnette doesn’t see herself as a checkout person. She sees herself as a member of a patient and family care system. Her job is to help families through the most difficult time of their lives. So she does something simple yet extraordinary.

Lynnette smiles and talks to people. When they show up in the cafeteria more than once she asks their names and the name of their child who is a patient at MCH. Then she remembers. The next time she sees them she greets them by name and asks about their child by name.

Lynnette’s cash register isn’t a location for food purchase transactions. It is a transformational space where welled-up emotions are released, where comfort and compassion are delivered, where what could be taken as a small part is turned into a powerful role.

I’ve never felt that I learned as much or took as much away from an event where I was a speaker as I did yesterday. I was in Miami speaking at the annual strategic planning event for the senior executives of the Miami Children’s Hospital, and over the next couple of days I’ll share some of the more poignant lessons.

Let’s start with their mascot, Lance.

Lance is a dachshund. His back legs became paralyzed during a spinal operation he had to have 2 years ago. His owner, Caio, told me that he just decided he had to make something good happen out of this painful situation. So he got what he refers to as Lance’s bicycle. (This Lance’s namesake was also known for riding a bicycle and achieving greatness after suffering a medical crisis.) Then he enrolled in the therapy dog program at MCH. He wanted to show the kids that even if your health issue leaves you less than 100%, you can still do amazing things.

The kids loved him. He became the hit of the therapy dog program. He even became a cartoon complete with his own comic book that Caio hands out to the kids.

Caio told me that some said he should put the dog down instead of have the surgery, that Lance would have a lousy life and it wasn’t worth it to put him through that. They said Lance would be miserable that he couldn’t run around the way he used to.

Then Caio said this:
Dogs don’t think about what they can’t do. They just see what they can do, and they go and do it.

We should all take that lesson from Super Lance.