What motivates you to be your very best, even under pressure? I have a client who's working to take her personal and professional life to the next level. Specifically, she wants shine in those most critical, defining moments -- when everyone who matters is watching.
I challenged her to imagine her ultimate self. What would that "amped up" version do and say in front of the CEO? How would she respond when things got dicey with her manager, or even with relatives over the holidays? It's worth taking time to mentally prepare for challenges like this, so we know how to BE that finest self when duty calls.
Recently, I got to see someone do just this. He wasn't planning or expecting it, but when life demanded his best, he was ready. I call the story, "State Fair Nightmare 2014."
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My parents decided to go the fair this year, and the boys and I, plus my sister 's family, went with them. We all rode the train into Dallas, and the fairgrounds were packed, as it was "get in free" day for school kids. The weather was windy and colder than any of us anticipated, but that was okay; we ate lots of fried things to keep warm.
And we saw it all -- new cars, the poultry building, chili mixes and miracle jewelry cleaners, massage chairs, award-winning canned goods and photography displays. Then at about 3:30pm, around the time everyone else had the same idea, we decided to beat the crowd and take our worn-out selves home.
Two crowded trains left before we finally made it onto a crammed car, only to hear in an automated voice...
"This car is no longer in service. Please exit immediately."
(Huh? That robot couldn't possibly be talking to us.)
Along with other confused people going back to North Dallas suburban areas, we stayed in our seats and pretended the words weren't true. Finally someone spoke to a policewoman, then verified the rumor; this train and all others pointed home were out of service due to an electrical problem, and all passengers were being moved via bus to Mockingbird Station, the next working stop on our route.
As we accepted the inevitability of exiting our train, another five cars of similarly-doomed passengers flooded toward three already-overflowing, smallish busses. We needed a miracle.
We got one when my dad managed to hail the only cab in sight. Five of our group piled into overly-cushy seats and Dad told the driver, Amhad, to take us to Mockingbird Station.
"Yes, I know exactly where that is," he proclaimed.
Later we learned that Amhad was relatively new to Dallas and would require considerable guidance, meaning street by street, turn by turn directions, this coming clear after an hour and a half of driving around and then finding ourselves back at the fairground entrance. I'm not kidding.
At each wrong stop, Amhad chirped, "This is it! I have gotten you to the Mockingbird Station!" But it wasn't. He'd scowl, reconfigure his onboard computer, fret at Dad for being unclear, then chide him to smile because he now knew the exact route. I thought, "Oh dude, please shut up and do not make him lose his temper. It's been a long day."
Dad began stabbing at his phone, working to get us on the right path. The fair had been his idea, so had the train, and this cab. Ugh. I silently prayed GET US OUT OF HERE, and worried about Dad's blood pressure.
Amhad finally pulled up to the correct platform, still rattling at Dad to smile. This is it, I thought, this is where my father comes unhinged, unloads an angry lecture, refuses the fare, and we all regret the day.
Nope.
Dad paid the fare (gladly adjusted by Amhad for the mistakes), tipped generously, thanked him with that long-awaited smile and a clap on the back, and walked the boys to the train platform, chuckling over the crazy day.
How'd he hold it together? My dad's a sharp and savvy guy who hates inconvenience and wasted time. And he sure doesn't like to be lost or ripped off.
More important to him than reacting to all those annoyances, though, he loves his grandsons. In those aggravating hours, he was mindful of his example -- of demonstrating how to be a fair-minded and wise man, especially in the face of frustration and uncertainty. And I can tell you, my boys noticed. This was Dad's moment, and he totally nailed it.
Your moment is coming, maybe very soon.
In the next few weeks when you're with friends and loved ones, take the time to choose your words and responses carefully. We're all a little strung out from too much rushing around, too many cookies, maybe a little too much of each other. And one bad outburst can become the defining image of an otherwise fun day.
Be the patient one. The kind one. The one to make those sometimes awkward, harried moments into a great memory.
Be your Best Self, and have a wonderful holiday. :)
