Where are the Dolphins?

What is it about dolphins playing near the shore that lifts our spirits? I don’t care how bad it is, seeing the dolphins ALWAYS makes things a bit better. My sense is that it is impossible to see the dolphins and not feel joy. And, when we’re feeling joy, we’re not feeling anger, sadness, or fear!

Being confronted with the beauty of nature… the simple pleasure of three dolphins surfing a wave, or playfully breaching, or just slowly cruising by in their daily food run… somehow resets the system for me. It puts me in right relationship with everything. It reconnects me and lifts me out of the morass and says all is well… even when it is difficult.

The dolphins remind me that joy comes when we look outside ourselves and become appreciative. It’s the simple gesture of reaching out to comfort or celebrate another person, reflecting on the divine, taking a deep breath and saying “thanks!’.

What is the Fear?

Let’s face it: Hidden fear is more powerful than disclosed fear. Pastor Rick Warren, the king of acronyms and alliterations, cites fear as “False Evidence Appearing Real.” And, it’s scary stuff.

So, what resonates for you in this picture? The shark cruising the neighborhood looking for a tasty treat… or the surfer who thought he was simply out for an afternoon of fun? Are you more likely to play a role of villain, or victim? Or, would you be the lifeguard hero on the beach coming to save the day?

The interesting thing about fear is what happens to us when we’re gripped by it. Often, we slip into characters… call them dramatic roles … and play out these scripts that we’ve been playing our whole lives… the man afraid of conflict who “goes small”… the woman afraid of being betrayed who turns into an icy cold emotionless villain… the office manager afraid of losing her sense of worth who saves the day by staying until all hours of the night.

The antidote for hidden fear is to bring it into the light. Disclose it. Own it. Step outside of it and ask, “What’s really going on here?”

So, who are you playing right now?

What Advice Do You Have For Them?

We were about to wrap up for the day. It had been a tough morning with difficult issues. Out of left field, one of the members said, “Could we spend a few minutes talking about some tactical steps that we need to figure out? Frankly, we don’t know what we should do!”

We didn't have much time, so I invited the whole group to stand up from the couch and come across to the other side of the room for a huddle and then whispered something like…

“So, there’s this group sitting over there on the couch and they don’t know what to do. What advice do you have for them?”

And, guess what? Immediately, ideas began coming forth. Things began to get un-stuck. “Well, they could just…” and pretty soon everyone was building off of the other ideas. When they wound down, I invited them to take a few steps further away and said…

“Okay, now it’s six months from now. The issue that group on the couch was facing has successfully resolved. Where do you think they are now? What have they learned?”

And we talked some more. More ideas. More creativity. And then, I asked, “So, from this place of successful resolution, what words of encouragement do you have for that group on the couch?”

And, out came the most positive, upbeat, “take no prisoners”, “go get ‘em” remarks imaginable!

Will they be successful? I don’t know. But, they sure got some great support from that group standing on the other side of the room!

50

Within my circle of friends tomorrow is somewhat late in coming. I’ve been “young” most of my life… graduated from high school at 17, college at 21, married young, executive at 26, CEO at 35, youngest member of my longtime Friday Forum, youngest member of cabinets, boards of directors, and on and on. It’s been easy to play the “young” card most of my life.

And, the calendar pages keep turning! I’m still the youngest in my Friday morning group, still one of the youngest “old men” at the surf point by that name. And yet…


50 may be the new 40… and it is still a worthy benchmark. A moment in time to reflect and recollect.

Thomas Merton, the great contemplative theologian, pondered on “recollecting” ourselves… the time we take to step back, re-group, and re-connect to our greater purposes. Time to get quiet. To grieve that which wants to be grieved and celebrate that which wants to be celebrated. To be present in this moment and all that it has to bring.

As the page turns, I feel content. A few months ago I was sensing a bit of thickness in the waist and put a scale next to the refrigerator… happy to say that it’s holding at 180. I did laps on Mammoth Mountain's Chair 23 the other day and felt playful and alive… back pain is in check. My sense of purpose… what I was created for… has never been more clear. Relationships with my daughters, family, and friends are vibrant, clean. Work is interesting and sometimes surprising.

My desire is to live in the midst of connected family relationships and a worldwide circle of friends… and to fully experience the joys and pain that life brings. To act decisively in alignment with the man I was created to be and the principles and values I hold.

So, that's my check in at 50. What's your check-in today?

Onward!

V

Difficult Conversations

So, I get asked “How do I approach this difficult conversation?” all the time. Might be about…

…reconciling an estranged relationship…
…broaching a taboo or sensitive subject…
…bringing “bad news”…
…confronting toxic behavior…

Yuck. Wouldn’t it be nice if things just worked out? Well, they do. But, not without some effort. Here’s the structure that I have found works well.

The underlying principle here is to honor your own emotions without being driven by them. In other words, if you’re angry, go beat up a pillow or run some stairs before engaging in the conversation. If you’re fearful, step into a detached position and ask yourself, “what’s really going on here?” and get clean with the fear. And if you’re sad then cry, and then go do something nice for yourself. Once your own emotional wave has begun to subside, you are ready to engage. And, it’s always respectful to ask for permission… “I’d like to bring up a difficult topic. Is now a good time for you?”

Data: Start with the facts in a very “matter of fact” way. Facts are those things that a video camera could record. It’s evidence in the courtroom. And, data is the only thing where agreement is necessary in a difficult conversation.

Story: Figure out the “story you make up” from the relevant set of facts. We all do this, so just own it. For example, “When you show up late, I make up a story that you think I am un-important.”

Emotion: Share your emotional experience, remembering it is best to be able to talk about your emotions as opposed to being driven by them. “I felt angry, and a little afraid.”

Your Part: Consider how you have contributed to the issue and own it too. For example, “I recognize that I could have been clearer about our expected start time.”

Want: Ask yourself what it is you really want for yourself in this conversation. If you are trying to control someone else, you might first want to consider what fear is driving you into a control position and then consider what it is you really want. Often times, what we really want is to just get something off our chest, or to clear the air because our desire is for a clean and authentic relationship.

No matter how someone receives all of this, it’s all your stuff. You are owning yourself and taking 100% responsibility for your emotions, what you make a set of facts mean, your part in the issue, and what you want. All of those are inarguable. No one can tell you “you don’t feel that way”. Sometimes we call these inarguable truths.

So, this is more than a simple post. Frankly, getting clear on this structure and making it a part of my ongoing communication style has changed my life. If you’d like more writing on the topic, post a comment or send me a note (vince@vincecorsaro.com) asking for “Staying the Course when Things Get Tough.”

Onward!

V

The Warrior Move

It’s one thing to miss a summit due to altitude sickness, or not eating well, or dehydration, or suffering mishap and injury, or being turned back by weather. And, it’s another thing to get back on the trail to do it again.

So, when I wrote about altitude sickness and weather turning me back the first two times on Whitney, and only mentioned actually summiting on the third attempt as a passing remark in the post, I took some heat. John wrote,

“…Trying again for the third time when you knew it would be difficult. Overcoming fear when something had already happened twice. Pushing through in a physically painful state but mentally determined to summit. That was the real story. Was it worth it? What did it mean to you personally to be there at that survey cap? More than the one line you gave it. The three of us knew the risk that any one of us could falter and that the success of the group making the summit could be compromised. Each of us was willing to give up the personal achievement goal for the health and safety of the other two. There was a huge dynamic taking place that day among us…”

Indeed.

From a mythical or archetypal viewpoint, summiting with a team is a warrior move. It’s not the sovereign king, or the mystical magician, or the heartbroken lover that stands at the survey cap. It’s the warrior. Clean action deployed with competence and confidence.

Warrior energy brings together skill, desire, passion, and resolve. Clear goals are accepted. Boundaries and rules are honored. Loyalty is given. The clean warrior is neither savage nor victim. The clean warrior is emotionally aware, efficient, effective... and gets the job done.

Altitude Sickness

Altitude sickness doesn’t have a linear cause. You can’t say “ah, he was dehydrated and that’s why he got sick…” Altitude sickness hits when the systems are out of whack. It can hit when you’ve climbed too high too fast. It can hit when you haven’t eaten well. Or slept well. Or hydrated well. Or been too stressed leading into the trip. Or “d”, all of the above, or “e” any of the above. That’s just the way of it.

I’ve been hit with it twice. Once on Colorado’s Longs Peak and once on Mount Whitney a few years ago. Both times, I can see the string of reasons behind it. Stress. Insufficient water. Questionable food choices. Didn’t sleep well the night before. Not enough acclimation. On Longs Peak it didn’t hit until the way back down. On Whitney, it hit fast and hard on the way up and forced me to turn back before reaching the summit.

The only cure for altitude sickness is to drop in elevation. In both cases, once I descended below 12,000 feet I lost symptoms within a few minutes. In both cases, I felt like a new man. On Whitney, if the clock hadn’t been against me I would have resumed the upward march.

What I learned after the Whitney hike is that I had suffered a lower back compression fracture in a surfing accident two weeks before. So, not only were my “systems” out of whack, my structure was compromised. My physical body was not able to perform up to expectations. Two little disks that should have been more or less square on the x-ray were somewhat squashed on one side.

The surfing accident is a whole story in itself. I was at an unfamiliar break- Pacific Beach in San Diego- and while paddling into a wave became concerned that it was too big and that I didn’t have the capability to ride it well. By the time I made the decision to pull back I was too far in and ended up getting “sucked over the falls” and slammed on to the shallow sandy bottom. I knew immediately that things weren’t right and managed to get myself out of the water. I was stunned and disoriented but not enough to warrant medical attention on the spot.

The funny thing with that wave was that I would have likely gone uninjured if I had stayed the course and gone with it- another life lesson. Sometimes the risk or downside of pulling back is more then the downside of riding it out.

In any event, I was injured. I spent a few days recuperating, went to the chiropractor (but didn’t get x-rayed), and took it easy. I had already purchased the permits for Whitney and was organizing about ten other guys for the trip and felt obligated to go ahead with it. By the time hike day came around I was still stiff, had a hard time lifting my right leg, and was in varying degrees of pain most of the time. Off I went.

I did complete the Whitney trip this last year with two good friends. It felt good to close that loop.

When things at home or work start to unravel, systems are out of whack, structure is compromised, perhaps it's time to step back and take stock... "What are the contributing factors here?"

Onward!

V