1. The customer wants this new product.
2. I can make this new product for THIS price.
3. The customer will pay XX for this new product.

This particular CEO has seen that most projects have one of these “lies” at the heart of the project.

Got me to thinking…

What’s my big lie, around my life, my mission, my career, my story?  We all have a story about our life and our mission.  Story telling is a large part of the Corporate Athlete Course that I taught last year.  See my mission in a previous blog.

What are the common big lies in career stories?  Here are a few that I regularly see:

1. I have a value prop for this company that is unique.
2. My value prop is stronger than most other candidates.
3. I’ve done the research and I know there is a good cultural fit.

I think big lies in career stories deserves another blog for another day.  I’m thinking more philosophically right now, so I’ll ask an even bigger question:

What are the common big lies in life stories?

1. Fine thank you, how are you?
2. Yes, I’m happy.
3. It’s going well.

My 25th reunion was this weekend.  I heard some of these lies.  Think about your conversations.  Have you heard these lines?  Did the person really mean it?  Did you really care about the answer.

Jim Loehr, a co-founder of Human Performance Institute, who developed the Corporate Athlete Course, wrote a book The Power of Story:  Change Your Story, Change Your Destiny in Business and in Life.  He gives insight into the power of recognizing and writing your old story—those things you keep telling yourself that prevent you from realizing your mission, and then writing your new story.  He suggests reading and re-reading your new story until you start to live it.

My friend Seth Barnes and I went for a 5 mile run.  What I like about runs is that you are trapped.  You kind of have to talk.  And what I like about Seth is that he doesn’t allow lies in conversations.  He probes, he prods, he listens without judgment.  I worked out more in our 45 minutes than I could in days of counseling.

So, two questions to leave you with:

What lies are you telling yourself?

Who is in your life that will listen to you truth?

Be patient.  Fred took the long term view of his students’ success. And he did the same with relationships.  He hung in there with me when I was new, standing up for students and lobbying for colleagues.  He challenged my challenges, and argued my arguments.  Yet, he did it with grace and charm, so that I always was compelled to listen and consider his point of view.

Be tireless.  Fred worked incessantly for his students.  He took their success personally.  We would be playing poker on a Tuesday night at 10pm, and Fred would be talking to me about a student’s interview with Danaher, and what he might have done differently to help her.

Be genuine.  If you knew Fred, you always knew where you stood.  He gave you feedback:  as a career consultant, as a colleague, as an employer, as a friend.  He had no agenda.  Just to be true to his calling.

Be a friend.  More than anything Fred was a friend.  He cared.  He showed it.  He had the team to his home for many beautiful lunches.  He brought vegetables from his garden to share.  He organized the poker group.  He came to every extra-curricular event, when he wasn’t required to attend.  And I always got the sense that Fred truly cared about me and my success.  He was genuine, tireless and patient.

I learned a lot from Fred.

Here’s what I learned about networking from M and B:

1. First impressions matter. Trite maybe, but upon meeting both Mason and Braxton, each approached me, offered a hand to shake, looked me in the eye, and said, “Hello, nice to meet you” (“see you again” in Braxton’s case, as he remembered singing karaoke with me in San Francisco about five years ago – not bad for a 10-year old). I was immediately put at ease by their approach, and also intrigued to learn more about them.

2. Be interesting and informed. Braxton picked up early on in the conversation my interest in sports and that I have a son at VCU. He immediately started talking about Shaka Smart, VCU’s head basketball coach, his job offers from other schools, what makes Shaka and the Rams succeed, and why they didn’t make it to the sweet 16 this year (poor 3-point shooting!).

3. Show an interest, be inquisitive. Mason asked me about my job, my family, my 50^th birthday plans, my travels, my blog, and my running. Braxton asked me about golf, Singapore, why I was in Hanover. And, they also offered an opinion on my answers, and occasionally argued with the answers, albeit respectfully. I could tell they were thinking and forming opinions and points of view. Braxton listened to my story then validated my opinion by telling a similar one about one of his friends who has faced a similar situation in sports.

4. Have a sense of humor. I laughed all evening: B talking about his golf game, Mason making fun of her dad’s hair (or lack thereof), Braxton and Mason joking with each other. Laughter triggers positive memories. It signals that I want to spend more time with these people.

5. Be empathetic. I told a story of my son’s quitting a sport he loved in high school because of a terrible, demeaning coach. Mason was courageous enough to say to me, “I feel really badly that happened to your son.” Wow, I’m never that empathetic – I gloss over uncomfortable situations (of course, I am a guy). Her acknowledgement created a bond and an impression of how deep feeling she is and how well she relates.

I guess most of these are intuitive, but bringing them altogether takes talent and practice.  But more than that, it takes a willingness  to Be yourself. I feel I really got to know Mason and Braxton during my two-hour visit. They were comfortable in their own skin and at ease with the situation. They weren’t trying to be the perfect kids or something their parents want them to be. They were just trying to be themselves, and it worked.Thanks Mason. Thanks Braxton.

“Five of the best fishermen went flying off the dock because of the wave of water that came from the East.”

As you can clearly see, there are nine “f” letters in the sentence. Professor James revealed that her research shows that nearly everyone who does a similar exercise as this exercise misses the “f” in the word “of,” all three times.

So I ask again: are you an “of”? Small and insignificant? Not normal (note the “f” in “of” is pronounced as a soft “v”)?  Hidden among other important people?

Actually, perhaps the more important question is not whether you are an “of,” but is:  did (do) you miss the “of”s? And what are your “biases” that perhaps led (lead) you to miss the “of” in your team, company, or society? We all have biases, which are neither good nor bad. What’s important is that we have become aware of and recognize them, so that we can build process to overcome them.

Let me give a personal story: I am in the process of hiring a person for an open position. I would describe myself as action orientated, results focused, perhaps loud and decisive. I appreciate organization, leadership, initiative and punctuality. These are my biases. It’s sometimes easy for me to ignore the facts and react to my first impression. So, I have learned that I must interview my top 2 or 3 candidates more than once. And, during the second interview, I have an interview guide, full of behavioral questions. And I write down the candidate’s answers, so that I can review the three candidates’ answers together and really see whose experience is most relevant.

Don’t get me wrong: I am a strong believer in those first seven seconds of interaction. But now, given my biases, I try to go beyond those first seven seconds with the leading candidates. (Interviews are tomorrow. Forewarned is forearmed.)

I’m committed to not missing the “of”s in my world.

P.S. To learn more about your biases, go to www.implicit.harvard.edu

as Executive in Residence at Darden this week, when asked what career advice he would share with MBAs aspiring to work in sports.  Listen carefully.  He doesn’t advocate that one should dig sports—but that one should love the “type” of work that one is doing.  He says it’s the “challenge, stress and excitement of the business construct” that is what keeps him up at night, in a good way.   What I love about my job is the opportunity to spend two days with someone who is passionate about his mission in life, and who shares his enthusiasm so eloquently with fun, interesting stories.  It didn’t hurt that he felt my meeting with him was important enough to let his call from Peyton Manning go to voice mail.

One of my mentors at the Darden School of Business announced he’s moving on to the next phase of his career. David Newkirk, Darden’s CEO of Executive Education (EE), spent six and a half years leading Darden’s EE. Since his first day, David took me under his wing, first as I directed the Career Development Center, and then as I reported to him running Corporate Relations. His accomplishments in EE will be celebrated over the next few days, as they should be. But it’s his accomplishments as a mentor, both to me and to many others at Darden, that I want to celebrate, and that I’ll miss.

Mentor [men-tawr, -ter] 1. a wise and trusted counselor or teacher.

David was an immediate ally of mine, and then mentor to me, the day he joined Darden. He saw his role at Darden was beyond just EE, but included being a senior leader at the School. When I asked, he offered strategic insight into my challenge in Career Development and was equally willing to open his rolodex for students. Many days I used his office to vent about bad banker behavior or poor market conditions. He always answered with a story, which gave me insight into solving my own problem. I saw David as a mentor to several on Darden’s leadership team. David’s thirty years of business experience, many as adviser to senior executives, gave me comfort when I knew he was helping guide the decisions of our leadership team. Darden has flourished in the past six years, due of course to many factors, but not the least of which was David’s advice, mentorship and leadership of the entire Enterprise, not just EE.

2. an influential senior sponsor or supporter

One of David’s core strengths is his genuine concern and support of his people. When I began reporting to David two years ago, I was immediately challenged to think differently about my job, encouraged to broaden my impact, and acknowledged for the work I was doing. I could (can) talk frankly with David, and know that he’ll listen (and push back when I’m full of myself). He is there when I need him, and yet manages me like a professional. My favorite quote, on one of the many times he wandered into my office just to check in: “Have I managed you enough this week?”

Related Words for mentor: wise man

Finally, David is wise man. Seems like an old fashioned word, but for David it fits. His knowledge is broad and his experience vast. (What would you expect from a man with a degree in Mathematics and Philosophy?)  His stories help me solve my problems, without telling me what to do. As much as anything, David helps me see things in better, more strategic perspective.

Now he’s moving on to another stage in his career. And what a career modeler he’s been. David’s career is a model for MBAs today. He continually reinvents himself: engine salesman, credit card marketer, strategic adviser, general manager. Seems like the cycle is every 7-10 years. He builds on the previous skills and adds new ones. I suspect he never gets bored, and when he stops having fun, he moves on. Sounds like a pretty good career model.

So, he moves on, and I have to find another mentor, right? Well, wrong. That’s the beauty of your mentor moving on. Now you have a person in whom you have total trust somewhere else in the world. I’ll give David his six weeks in London, but after that, he can expect my call. And the last thing I love about David is that if I don’t call him, I know he’ll call me. Cause that’s just the way he is. 

So, I guess then, yes, I’m celebrating.

That story was part of a three-week, white-road journey, and that story defines a white-road journey:

“White-road and red-road journeys are qualitatively different.  You need the right map.  On the red road it is about destination.  On the white road it is about the road.  On the white road you must travel light.  The white road is quiet.  It’s about simplicity.  It’s often adventurous.  You need to dig deep.  Sometimes there is no road.  You have to trust your gut…On the red road, it’s about the destination…The white road:  it’s about the journey.  Traveling the white road places risk in your own hands, not in the hands of others.”

So writes Gary Erickson and Lois Lorentzen in Raising the Bar:  Integrity and Passion in Life and Business, The Story of Clif Bar Inc.

Our white-road journey was a special event:  we were celebrating a milestone—our last kid off to college, a new chapter.  The kids are growing, and so are we.  The trip was illustrative of our next chapter:  we saw lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

Well, okay, rams, and moose and bears (you’ll just have to trust me on the bears—he’s in there).

We saw God’s hand everywhere:  in the mountains, and valleys, and plains; along the hikes, horseback rides, boat trips, and long, long drives; and in the dramatic rock formations and the deep, deep lakes.

But more than anything, we were just together, on an adventure, a white-road journey.  And that’s our next chapter.

I hope your 2011 has been full of white-road journeys, and that your 2012 will bring you even more.

Kamp Kiawah campers just arrived at the beach—twelve mostly happy, mostly engaged seven-year(ish) olds. These kids have a blast for the most part—and it’s a nice break for their parents (probably golfing, or shopping, or spa-ing somewhere around the island).  Yet, it seems there is always one kid hanging ten feet away from the group, in his own world perhaps. Is he the “bad” kid?  Or is he the Steve Jobs of the group: bored with their games, busy inventing games of his own? (See Dean Bob Bruner’s blog post on Jobs’ legacy.) The others kids seem to be having a great time, jumping and playing and following the counselor’s lead. If I look closely, I think they are actually playing “follow-the-leader.”  The rules of the game make it fun for everyone and prevent mayhem.  Conformity works. Playgrounds, schools, jobs, interviews.

One who walks in another’s tracks leaves no footprints. ~Proverb

As I watch the kids play, I can’t help but be drawn to the one kid off to himself. As you can see, I’m too far away to actually hear him or even see what he’s doing, but I’m drawn to imagine what’s going on in his mind and think about what we can learn from him. Is he imagining another game?  Is he happy?  What are the others thinking about him? Does he care?  By not conforming, is he causing havoc, or creating the possibility of something new happening at Kamp Kiawah today?  The world is full of the “Steve Jobs-type” kids—who, as adults, didn’t conform with the rest of the world yet changed the world in a significantly positive way:  Winston Churchill, Albert Einstein, James Joyce to name a few.  Nonconformity works, too.

Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind. ~Dr. Seuss

In today’s world if you aren’t comfortable leading change, then you will be the one left out.  Throughout my career I’d like to think I’ve pushed the limits of conformity.  I’ve been the champion of change in nearly every role I’ve undertaken.  In general I like to challenge the rules and the status quo.  Most times it has worked for me; sometimes not so much. 

Most importantly, those times that I have sat on the sidelines, and not challenged the status quo, are the times I’ve been the unhappiest, the least satisfied in my career. Now I urge those around me, and I urge you:  be a champion of change, challenge the status quo, lead even when know one will play with you.  The price of NOT is too high, at least for me.

Not all those who wander are lost. ~J.R.R. Tolkien

Many MBA students will receive advice and probably convince themselves that they should go get corporate experience first, then start their business.  Conventional wisdom suggests this improves your chances of getting funding and eventual success.  I used to get this advice.  But now I think it much more depends on the person, and in general, I think one is more likely to be successful if just do it.  The delay path works for some people, but I think many would-be entrepreneurs never get around to it.  They become trapped by the comforts of the corporate life. 

I’m reading Raising the Bar: The Story of Clif Bar. Gary Erikson, the founder of Clif Bar, went on a bike ride one day, couldn’t stomach another Power Bar, and spent the next six months developing a better bar.  He just did it.

So my recommendation:  just do it.  Get some experience by getting in the market.  Yes, you can change the world.  But you can’t change the world sitting on the sideline.

Google hires for fit—they want to find great people with “googliness” and then they’ll find the right jobs and careers for them.

A few years ago Target brought a Darden student in as a finance summer intern.  She did well but told them her passion was for merchandising, not finance.  To Target’s credit, they made her a full time offer in merchandising, and now three years later she is a superstar in their merchandising organization.

Many times when interviewing, candidates get very caught up in the “position,” rather than thinking about the company as a whole. I think that might be a bit short sighted. In today’s world students will go on the perhaps seven to ten different careers.  I believe that starting with a company that “fits” you, that is doing things like you believe they should be done, that has people that you want to learn and grow from, is more important than what position you start in.

So now Christine has a position with the Leadership Center.  It’s a great position that seems to really fit her personality, her talents, and her long term goals.  I’m proud that she recognizes this, even though it’s not the job she thought she wanted. I’m also glad that the Leadership Center leaders have the foresight to see that Christine has the potential to contribute to their organization.

So next time you have a discussion with someone about your career, don’t worry about the position (if it’s the right one, or even if there is one).  Just explore and see if there’s a fit.