Adult learning

The Audience Arc: A Balancing Act for Success

/ Susan Hendrich / Leave a comment

Master the balancing act of needs using the Audience Arc

In today’s dynamic business landscape, navigating an “audience arc” is crucial for driving high-impact initiatives. This arc applies to any scenario where you need to engage different levels of your organization. Regardless of your situation, there are three core entities to consider as your craft solutions for your customers:

  • The Enterprise: The overarching goals and vision of the organization.
  • The Team: The collective effort and expertise of your department or project group.
  • The Individuals: The unique perspectives and motivations of each person involved.

Now, here’s a powerful framework that can elevate your success:

The Balancing Act: Decisiveness with Context Meets Collaboration for Innovation

Part 1: Decisiveness/Smart Risk-Taking vs. Organizational Navigation/Collaboration

Effective leadership requires a delicate balance. On one hand, you need to be decisive and willing to take calculated risks. However, it’s equally important to navigate the organizational landscape effectively. Collaborative decision-making that considers various viewpoints can lead to stronger results and increased buy-in.

Part 2: Honoring the Past While Embracing the Future

Balancing Tradition with Innovation:

  • Past: Respect What’s Been Done Before: Building on past successes and learning from previous experiences is crucial. Ask yourself, “Has someone already tackled this challenge? Can we leverage their efforts?”
  • Future: Embrace Innovation and Learning: Don’t be afraid to break new ground and experiment. Every situation presents opportunities to learn and push the boundaries.

Conclusion: Mastering the Audience Arc

By understanding the audience arc, consistently creating delicate balance between decisiveness and collaboration, tradition and innovation, you can navigate your way to success in any situation. Winning strategies require considering all three entities – the enterprise, the team, and the individuals. Remember, it’s all about finding the sweet spot between calculated risks and well-coordinated execution. So go forth, analyze, diagnose, plan, and lead your team to high-impact success!

The 3Gs of Mentor Matchup: Goals, Gaps, Gifts

/ Susan Hendrich / 1 Comment
Goals, Gaps, and Gifts: Mentor / Mentee Matchup Magic

An ideal mentor/mentee matchup blends three key elements: Goals, Gaps, and Gifts.

GOALS: Mentor and mentee should have compatible goals and aspirations. For example, if your goal is to become a director, choose a mentor with experience as a director or other leadership role. If you aim to build confidence in delivering presentations, find a mentor who dazzles you when they are on the stage.

GAPS: A good mentor can fill in the gaps in the mentee’s knowledge and experience. For example, if you are new to the industry, choose a mentor who can teach you about the industry and help you develop skills.

GIFTS: Mentor and mentee should have complementary gifts and talents. For example, if you are a creative thinker, choose a mentor who is good at strategic planning and execution. Having complementary skills allows the mentee to see a different way of approaching novel situations.

Think about your own experience as a mentor or mentee. How did your goals, gaps, and gifts intersect?

Want more information? Check out the LinkedIn discussion, “How can you ensure that mentors and mentees are a good match?”

The Power of Perception

/ Susan Hendrich / Leave a comment

Perception can create a self-fulfilling prophecy. The classic leadership book, The One Minute Manager by Ken Blanchard and Spencer Johnson, shaped my leadership approach. They teach the power of Perception. Consider the story of The Monk and the Travellers:

THE MONK AND THE TRAVELLERS

One day a traveller was walking along a road on his journey from one village to another. As he walked he noticed a monk tending the ground in the fields beside the road. The monk said “Good day” to the traveller, and the traveller nodded to the monk. The traveller then turned to the monk and said “Excuse me, do you mind if I ask you a question?”. 

“Not at all,” replied the monk. 

“I am travelling from the village in the mountains to the village in the valley and I was wondering if you knew what it is like in the village in the valley?” 

“Tell me,” said the monk, “What was your experience of the village in the mountains?” 

“Dreadful,” replied the traveller, “to be honest I am glad to be away from there. I found the people most unwelcoming. When I first arrived I was greeted coldly. I was never made to feel part of the village no matter how hard I tried. The villagers keep very much to themselves, they don’t take kindly to strangers. So tell me, what can I expect in the village in the valley?” 

“I am sorry to tell you,” said the monk, “but I think your experience will be much the same there”. 

The traveller hung his head despondently and walked on. 

A while later another traveller was journeying down the same road and he also came upon the monk. 

“I’m going to the village in the valley,” said the second traveller, “Do you know what it is like?” 

“I do,” replied the monk “But first tell me – where have you come from?” 

“I’ve come from the village in the mountains.” 

“And how was that?” 

“It was a wonderful experience. I would have stayed if I could but I am committed to travelling on. I felt as though I was a member of the family in the village. The elders gave me much advice, the children laughed and joked with me and people were generally kind and generous. I am sad to have left there. It will always hold special memories for me. And what of the village in the valley?” he asked again. 

“I think you will find it much the same” replied the monk, “Good day to you”. 

“Good day and thank you,” the traveller replied, smiled, and journeyed on.

___________________

THE POWER OF PERCEPTION

Tell me how this story impacts you? Does your own perception of situations evolve based on the attitude you bring? Sure makes a difference for me. Choose wisely.

Carpe Momentum: Two tips to accelerate success

/ Susan Hendrich / 2 Comments

“I could be so successful, if only I had more time…”

Have you ever started the sentence, “If only I had more time…” then finished that sentence with realization that you would fill that extra time with more hassled, stressful tasks that would leave you even more exhausted than you already are?

Time, precious time

Author Harvey Mackay says that time is the one commodity that we can’t reproduce, alter, capture or revisit. We each have the same quantity of time on a given day, day after day. How we use that time makes all the difference.

Think about the Food Network television show, “Chopped,” where several chefs open a mystery box with a tiny window of time and a mission to create fabulous food fare. Invariably, one contestant groans as the clock runs out and Chef Ted shouts, “Time’s up!”  The contestant stares at the unfinished dish below and states as if it’s the first time this has ever happened, “I ran out of time” as their reason for not including all of the required ingredients on their plate, or for not cooking their dish to the judges’ satisfaction. Each chef had the same ingredients, the same cookingtimesup station, the same pantry, and the same amount of time. Why were the other chefs able to finish on time with the intended delicious outcome, while Joe/Jane Too-Late is standing with a raw slab of pork on the station?

So how to make the most of this precious, limited resource? How do super-successful time managers seem to breeze through tasks and still have time to show up at the kids’ soccer games or catch a concert in the park?  Continue reading →

Kintsugi: The art of embracing damage.

/ Susan Hendrich / 2 Comments

Is it possible to be more beautiful in the broken places?

Recently, I sent a message to my friend who was struggling, in hopes of lifting her spirits.

My friend had been feeling down. Defeated. Convinced that she wasn’t capable or deserving of success. I knew better, of course. I’ve known her more than half my life. I’ve watched her rise from an aspiring writer to international best selling author. Countless reasons, I could offer, as to why she’s more than capable and perfectly deserving of success.  With indignance, I wanted to shout at her, “You’re already successful! Do you know how many people would dream to live your life for even just one day?”

I had really good intentions that day. It was a thrill, in fact, to think that I could be of help to a hero. Here was little old regular me, being asked to Help…Fix…Repair…Heal…this amazing role model of mine, who happened to be struggling. Being able to nurture and support this person who has served as a model of excellence for me for decades. Here was my chance to make a difference!

And the way I chose to help this supersuccessful person to feel better? I denied her feelings. Not a good thing, turns out.

I countered every single negative thought she was having with a reason why she was wrong and “should feel great” or “ought to forgive” herself or “was being too hard” on herself.

Thinking I was helping, actually I was making it worse. I took away her right to suffer. In fact, I teetered on the cusp of shaming her for feeling down.

With all the best intentions, I missed the whole point. She was feeling broken and needed to let the pieces fall on the floor in front of her.

Realizing that I was making things worse by only focusing on the sunny side and by denying her need to feel broken and fall apart, I suddenly remembered a concept I once heard about the importance of being able to “fall into” pain rather than simply denying it. This concept, I was now remembering, was about honoring and highlighting the broken parts. Drawing attention to the damage, even!

So, what is this radical-acceptance-like process of honoring and even highlighting our failures and broken parts?

It’s called Kintsugi, and it’s a beautiful way of turning damage into beauty.

The Japanese practice of “kintsugi” is the art of embracing damage. Check out this Kintsugi video:

“Now you shall transform to a new level, my friend. Think wabi-sabi and kintsugi: the art of embracing damage!”

Now remembering this concept of being stronger in the broken places, I stopped my barrage of “happy thoughts” and apologized mid-conversation to my friend. I acknowledged that I’d been trying to deny the fact that she felt broken. I was trying to pretend the cracks weren’t there. I told her that I’d suddenly remembered this Japanese art of Kintsugi, and that I would send her a video to illustrate the concept right away. We ended the conversation awkardly, and I seriously questioned whether I knew how to be a good friend.

Pushing past my disappointment in myself, I sent her the Kintsugi video, hoping that she was still open to my support, even after I’d botched and Pollyanna’d my way through our earlier conversation. After I sent the note and video link, I started to question myself.

“Who am I to tell this highly successful and internationally recognized thought leader how to live?”

“Why do I always appoint myself as the ambassador of all that is positive?”

“What if she resents my message and sees it as patronizing?”

There I was, spiraling to all my places in my head where my own brokenness lurks.

Worrying about how my friend might feel after I’d missed the point with her suffering, I was spinning in my own broken parts, thinking…

I’ve spent my whole life embracing the broken, the not quite, and the almost…

  • Saving birds with broken wings
  • Fixing toys with broken parts
  • Cheering for the underdog
  • Coaching those who don’t yet believe in themselves
  • Coaxing sunshine from clouds

Just as my negative self-talk was reaching a fervent pitch in my head, the phone rang.

There was my friend, laugh-crying through the phone line, telling me how she finally felt understood. The video just spoke to her. Captured her. She told me how she felt connected to this concept of embracing damage. How she IS kintsugi. How this concept of mending the broken pieces with gold and proudly displaying them was exactly what she’d needed. It was a great moment, and not just because my friend was feeling better or because I’d been able to help her. It was a great moment because she and I were creating Kintsugi in real time. We were piecing back together a set of broken shards of a conversation and making the resulting product even better than when we’d started.

I knew on that day that I would never look at broken pottery in the same way again.

Now, whenever either of us faces a rough patch in life, or when things fall apart altogether, a single word helps us both begin to put the pieces back together and to anticipate an even more beautiful outcome than the original situation could have intended.

Kintsugi.

Embracing the damage. More beautiful in the broken places.