Emotional Intelligence | Marshall Tarley

May 17, 2018May 18, 2018

The Good & The Great

Legendary songwriter Bill Withers took the stage to be interviewed before an audience of thousands.
It was the ASCAP “I Create Music” EXPO 2010, three days of workshops, performances and hands-on mentoring and instruction from the who’s who of the music industry. As one of the organizers, I stood in the back, looking across the crowd at Mr. Withers. A question came to him from the floor.
“As an aspiring songwriter,” the woman said, “what do you suggest I do?”

Mr. Withers took a long pause and with what seemed like great consideration, he said, “Well, if you want to be a songwriter,” pause “I suggest you write songs.”

The crowd erupted in laughter. He continued. “You know,” he said, “every Sunday, all across the country, people crowd around their televisions to watch NFL Football, and everyone thinks they can
play quarterback.” Pause, more laughter, “And, nine of them can.”

Total silence

It was intriguing and uncomfortable, a piercing dilemma. Was he saying enjoy the craft, but you’re probably not going to be a “successful” songwriter; however one may interpret that success – being seen and heard? fame and fortune? Or, was he saying there are a few of you, sitting in this room today, who have the talent and ability to ‘make it,’ so go for it. Or, wisely, was he just allowing each of us to fill-in the blanks for ourselves.

The Good is the Enemy of the Great?

I was at a Passover Seder several years ago. My friend’s father, Michele, was there, an older man, steeped in Jewish mysticism. In a discussion at the dinner break, about our various worldly pursuits,
I said, “You know, there is this saying, ‘the good is the enemy of the great.’ The idea that we should never be comfortable with the good, but be willing to leave it or even destroy it, in pursuit of the great. But, I’ve come to believe that the opposite is true, that the great is the enemy of the good.”

Michele practically leaped out of his chair with a big “Yes” of affirmation. To him, there was haughtiness to the exhortation of the “great,” a haughtiness that makes us blind to what is good all around us. There was so much good right there in that room, in that moment of sharing ideas and tradition and breaking bread with family and friends. It is these kinds of things that somehow get taken for granted, unrecognized, unappreciated, un-enjoyed and, perhaps, destroyed in the pursuit of the “great.” But, where would we be without greatness?

Is this a riddle? Is there an answer?

In this digital polarized world, we seem to demand absolutes, a black or white, a yes or no. Life is richer and more complex, we know that. Yet, some organizations, in pursuit of the great, embark on what they think of as creative destruction, and become the source of destructive destruction. An organization can create a steady stream of innovation by investing goodness in their employees, empowering their workforce and thereby enriching them and all stakeholders. In our personal lives, we may sometimes have to make choices between one step ahead in prestige or money and the effort to continuously grow to be deeper, richer, fuller people.

I’m no Sunday school teacher, but if we go back to the Passover story, Moses did not leave the life of comfort and luxury in the Pharaoh’s palace to aspire to greatness. He was already a prince, a position that could be perceived as greatness. He was moved to action because he was deeply pained to know and see the cruel enslavement of his people and was determined to change their destiny, to bring them freedom. By following his deepest beliefs in pursuing goodness for his people, he achieved greatness…and not for himself, but greatness for his people and for generations to come.

Maybe there is greatness all around us that we fail to see.

The single mom, who rises before dawn, prepares her kids for school, drops them off, works all day, shops, cleans, puts dinner on the table, keeps a roof over their heads and reads to them before they go to sleep. Can you not find greatness in that great goodness? How many generations will benefit from that?

Good To Great

In the bestselling business book from the 1990’s, Good To Great, one of the companies that ascended to become “Great” had enacted a policy that brought forth the scene described below.

“Executives did not receive better benefits than frontline workers. In fact, executives had fewer perks. For example, all workers (but not executives) were eligible to receive $2,000 per year for each child for up to four years of post-high school education. In one incident, a man came to an executive of the company, Marvin Pohlman, and said, “I have nine kids. Are you telling me that you’ll pay for four years of school — college, trade school, whatever — for every single one of my kids?” Pohlman acknowledged that, yes, that’s exactly what would happen. ‘The man just sat there and cried,’ said Pohlman. “I’ll never forget it. It just captures in one moment so much of what we were trying to do.”

That is greatness achieved through the pursuit of goodness.

February 10, 2018February 17, 2018

Currency and Legacy

The currency of our lives is the legacy we leave thriving behind us. It is not the what that we’ve done, it’s the who we have been in each and every moment; the lives we have touched and what we have imparted by our being. Perhaps, it is not for us, ourselves, to mention these things. They may flow so easily and seamlessly through us, we may be unaware.

I watched Sheila Nevins give her “last testament” on the PBS NewsHour the other evening, but she left me out! Now, I wasn’t offended or anything, lol, quite the contrary. I would not expect to be in her last testament, at least not specifically. Sheila, if I can be so familiar, is a towering figure at HBO and in the entertainment business as a whole. President of HBO Documentary Films, producer of so very many documentaries and the most esteemed awards and distinctions. Of course, she talked of none of these in her last testament. Ms. Nevins shared the intimate experience of sitting down with her lawyer and finalizing her will, decisions on remains, organ donations and all, and then escaping into the ice cream parlor for a giant sundae, one of the joys of life. The other exquisite joy, her son, a love she spoke of so eloquently.

So, why would she speak of me? Well, perhaps, we are not the best people to give last testaments of ourselves, because Sheila left out some important things. You see, I met Sheila in the late nineteen-seventies, when she was a rising executive, already quite achieved (though I knew none of that at the time), and I was a twenty-something waiter serving her breakfast many a morning at the Puffing Billy Restaurant on 86th Street and Madison Avenue in Manhattan. (Yes, I drove a taxi cab, waited tables and did a whole lot of other things in my youth, all glorious experiences.)

Sheila was quite a striking woman, and more than that, she carried an ilk, a certain regal quality, a good thing, but also creating a sort of, “keep your distance.” And, I did, at first. But, as weeks went by, and I shared a word with her here and there, and then conversation, I found a kind, warm and generous person, that special kind of generosity, a generosity of the soul. On some level, I think she saw that I was a searching and struggling twenty-something, and she was encouraging, mentoring and supportive in the most subtle and meaningful of ways.

From time to time, Sheila and her husband Sidney (Koch) would venture into the restaurant for lunch or dinner. Sidney was an investment banker and quite accomplished. He was equally filled with kindness and generosity, no wonder they found each other and have been together so very long. When the restaurant closed and I found myself working at an entry level job in banking on Wall Street, Sidney invited me for lunch at an exclusive and private nineteenth-century merchants club in the area. Who extends such kindness and generosity? These two people do. Some years later, when my first child was born, much to my surprise, a gift from Sheila arrived at my front door. We had barely kept in touch, yet there it was.

So, I think, just maybe, you’re getting the picture here. I am quite certain that I am not the only one to have experienced this exceptional extension of goodness from Sheila, exceptional, yet came so naturally from the being of this elegant woman. This was and is her way of being. And, when our journey is moving towards its end point, and we are looking back over the years and the paths, and the accomplishments and the so-called missed opportunities, we, ourselves, may miss some of the biggest and most important impacts we have had, we have accomplished, in the way we extend our selves, our souls, to the souls of others; not for gain, not with forethought, simply out of the goodness of who we are. And this, as much and maybe more than anything is our legacy that we leave behind, thriving and living as an experiential example.

So, Sheila, I want to say that I hope you’re not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m guessing you gave this last testament because you know you only have a few more decades or so to go. ☺ But, I want it to be complete for you, and hopefully, I have helped to complete the picture.

January 6, 2018January 15, 2018

More Than The Winter Blues

There are more people than ever before either not working or working from home.
They are in potential danger.

I received a call the other day from a client, a hard-charging entrepreneur. He was agitated and sounded desperate. “I’m chained to my desk and my PC,” he said. “I haven’t been outside in three days.”

Later that same day, I got a call from another friend who was clearly in despair. Initially, the call was to catch up and invite my girlfriend and I to dinner Saturday evening. The catch up quickly turned to the emotionally tough winter she is having. She is retired, and several activities in her life – an art class, her tennis and more – seemed to vanish, at least for now. What’s more, her grandchild, for whom she babysat a couple of times each week, had gone with her daughter on vacation. She was falling into a vortex of despair.

This is not limited to retired people, though they are particularly vulnerable to it. Individual entrepreneurs, others who work from home and the unemployed and underemployed are also in the danger zone.

In this country today, and perhaps around the world, more people than ever before are not working or working from home. While the unemployment rate hovers at record lows, the employment participation rate is at its lowest point in nearly a half- century. Some economists and commentators say that this is due to baby boomers retiring. That’s a half-truth. The economic collapse of 2008 displaced a vast number of employable people, many of them baby boomers, people in their mid-forties and older at the time, who have never recovered. Many of these displaced workers had to deal with crushing financial needs on top of the social and emotional toll of unemployment and forced retirement. Combine that with those who truly retired, those who are under-employed and those who work from home, either as employees or as individual entrepreneurs, and you have an unprecedented population of people who are vulnerable to isolation, stress, depression, drug use and alcoholism.

What are some solutions?

Economics – This is not a political or economic blog, so I will leave it to economists, industry leaders and our bumbling politicians to resolve the economic issues.
Emotions – Yes, I believe I can be of help on the emotional front. Or, I might say that if you and make a sustained effort, the four steps below will make a difference – if you use them. When we are already depressed, it is hard to pull ourselves out, but if you get up and get moving, defy gravity, the tools below will work for you. It’s not easy, but it is worth it to take up the challenge and win. If you have not yet reached the event horizon, where you have been sucked into that black hole, great, then this will be a bit easier.

4 Steps to Protect and Strengthen Our Emotional Selves.

Socialize – Yes, I know it’s hard, but you need to push yourself out there. Social contact is one of the most essential elements of brain health and emotional health. Consciously and deliberately plan social events – dinner with friends and relatives, movie dates, museum dates (even if you’ve never been to a museum, you may like it). Join social groups. That’s not you? That’s okay; you are making changes to make your life better. Join a Meet Up Group – I just Googled Meet-Ups in Bismark, North Dakota and there are tons of them of every subject and flavor. Join your church or synagogue groups. Join a bowling league. Painting, writing, who knows what untapped talents you have. Will it all work out just right? Of course not. You’ll learn and pick and choose, but even a bad social experience in one of these groups is way better than spending time alone. Plan, Plan, Plan – Yes, I know it’s hard, but plan a schedule, both a social schedule and an exercise schedule.

Exercise – Again, you’re going to tell me it’s not you? Again, you’re changing. The second most important element of brain health and emotional health (after socializing) is exercise. And, you thought it was only good for your body. Exercise pumps blood through your system and into your brain, it can cause the release of endorphins and dopamine into the brain – these are feel-good chemicals that we love. You can combine the experience and exercise with others. You should (yes, I’m using the should word), you should exercise every day and, if your doctor gives you the green light, do rigorous, challenging exercise twice per week.

Choose Your “Trance” – We do not need to be hypnotized to be in a trance. Trance is a deep state of focus. When we are in this state, everything begins to be colored by our state of mind. In a negative trance-state, we see our world – past, present and future, as bleak. We see the negative side of our experiences, of decisions we’ve made in life, of everything, including our future. Listen carefully, that is a Trance. You get to choose your trance in life, and you can choose a good trance. How? Cast your focus on what’s good and see your life through that focus. Whatever your situation, there are good parts to it. Even many “bad” experiences have elements of learning, of caring, of other good things. Focus there. Sit down and make a list of the good things in your life – they are there, I assure you. Review that list every morning and evening and add to it, because as you begin to see the world from the good things on that list, your brain will naturally see more good in your life. Plus, you will make all kinds of new and good discoveries by following steps one and two above – socializing and exercising.

Use Your Brain’s Natural Gestalt Mechanism – The brain is hardwired to seek wholeness, completeness. If there is a blank, an open question that you feel any emotional connection to, even a small one, your brain will persistently seek to answer that question, often creating an endless number of scenarios. How can you use this mechanism to your advantage? Simple and not so simple. The simple part – ask yourself well-formed questions that set your mind on a path seeking answers that make you feel good. Here are a few examples:

I wonder how soon I can feel good?
What surprise will I have today that will make me feel good?
How much do people love me?
I wonder what it will look like to have a great day today?
How good will it feel to feel good?
Why am I so grateful for Sally’s friendship?

You get the idea. One thing though, you are not asking these questions with the intention of answering them with your conscious cognitive thinking. You are asking these questions of yourself with a sense of wonder and caring. Then, just leave them out there in your mind. Your brain will seek answers all on its own, even while you’re sleeping, and create scenarios and actions and good feelings.

So, what’s the not-so-simple part of this? The first time you do it, you may notice some small or large positive change, or you might not notice it at all. You are teaching your brain a new habit, and the more you do it, the more you will train your brain to act on your behalf. You will get better and better results as you go forward. So, the not-so-simple part is staying with it and making a practice of it.

You can ask questions before you start your day, in the middle of a bad time during your day, and certainly at the end of the day when you want to set your mind for a good night. Make up your own questions and use your five senses in creating these questions. We each represent the world in our own minds using one of our senses as a primary sense. Some of us are more oriented to visual, others to feeling, some to hearing and some to taste or smell. If you know the primary sense you relate to, use that one. If not, sprinkle all of them into your questions.

One Final and Important Note – You may find that you’re in a situation where you may need professional help – a social worker or counselor. If that’s the case, please go and see one. Even if you have no money, there are agencies and religious-affiliated groups that can provide this help. The advice above is no substitute for professional help, though it can supplement it.

December 21, 2017December 22, 2017

“Are You Talkin’ to Me?” Emotional Intelligence in 1970’s NYC

We are the product of our experiences
Though the experiences described here were challenging and at times threatening, they were so rich and instructive to an emerging and formative young man – me. Each of us have opportunities to learn and to assimilate that experiential knowledge into the practice that becomes who we are.

In 1976, I was driving a yellow taxi cab in New York City. There were nearly 2,000 murders in New York that year, many of them cabbies. New York was a rough and tumble town, lawless and nearly ungovernable. It was the year the movie Taxi Driver, with Robert De Niro, was released – a violent, gritty window into the underbelly of the New York I was navigating each day. I did drive days. Most of the cabbie murders were at night.

I started before dawn. If I hoped to get a cab for the day, I’d have to show up at the Corona Queens garage by 4:30 am. We were in the middle of a nasty recession. I’d be there with twenty to thirty others for shape-up. If you’re not familiar with that term, it’s where a group of people (at that time, mostly men) show up in the hope of getting work for the day. Once, I saw a man break down and cry, because he didn’t get picked, didn’t get work that day. I was chosen. I thought about giving up my spot to him, but honestly, I was scared that they wouldn’t give it to him anyway and I’d be banished from ever getting a cab again. That was the scene.

I, like a lot of people I knew in those days, were already attuned to maneuvering through rough situations. Driving a yellow cab was no party. I saw a lot of people get a cab for a day and discover (and excuse the pun) that they just couldn’t hack it. Not only did you have to navigate those mean streets, but you needed to establish enough of a rapport with the dispatcher to get a car, and with the mechanics to get one that wasn’t a smoking, clanking bomb that the doormen at the hotels and luxury buildings, and even those on the street desperate for a taxi, would wave by.

To this day, I can remember the dispatcher. He sat behind a glass, like the ticket-seller at a movie theater. He always sat on a pillow, leaning to one side. I felt that he must have actually worn his butt out driving for so many years…until he couldn’t stand it anymore and got the job behind the glass. He always looked like he was in pain, yet you dare not offer any comfort, as that would call attention to his situation. He had a miserable disposition, and though I was always looking for that tiny crevice to slip through a scrap of humor, kindness or comradery, I could never find it. All I could do was speak the language of Brooklyn and Queens, my native dialect, and be respectful. That alone seemed to payoff…at least to get a cab for the day. And, I managed to book enough money on the meter to get a car again two days later and two days after that, and after a few weeks, I was booking enough money consistently to get a regular shift.

Booking enough money meant that you had developed the wiles to aggressively hit the streets, hunt the fares, find your way through the maze of time and space and danger. My first day was intimidating, even frightening. Where to go…what to do. I had established enough of a relationship with the cabbies in the garage to get their philosophies. Some liked going to the airports, waiting on line and getting a big fare. Others thought that was a big waste of time. They preferred to head directly into Manhattan. “That’s where the money is kid,” they said. If you were lucky, you’d get a fare along the way into Manhattan, but, “Don’t waste time lookin’” they said. “Just head straight to the city.” And, that’s what I did.

You lose some control – you have to go where your fares take you and you have no control over traffic. But, you begin to get the feel of the terrain and where the fares can be had and at what times, and, if you were lucky, no one took you out of the Manhattan, because that’s where the action was. Back and forth, uptown, downtown, east and west. And, just when the evening rush hour is beginning, you have to get the cab back to the garage for the night shift. When I closed my eyes to go to sleep that first night, all I could see was the red, yellow and green lights of the traffic signals.

As the weeks and months wore on, each challenge tested me. Small ones, like getting through to the guy who got chicken grease all over the steering wheel on the night shift, without a fight and with enough persuasion to get him to change that habit. There were the cars – they were ragtag. One hot June day,
I drove the entire shift with a heater that would not shut off. If you were lucky enough to get a parking spot at the cabbie stand to go to the bathroom at the Port Authority Bus Terminal, you moved quickly and with your wits about you at every moment. In those days, the Port Authority was a combination homeless shelter and hangout for criminal predators of all stripes. (And, yes, bus lines and scared commuters went in and out of there as well.)

And then, there was dealing with anyone in New York City who might step into your car.
The greatest challenges and greatest delights were the customers. There were the two middle-aged guys having a fist fight in the back of my cab. They told me, “It’s alright, we’re brothers.”
I told them that it wasn’t alright and if they didn’t stop they had to get out. They stopped…for a while, then it erupted all over again. I pulled over and threw them out of the cab…not physically, but I made them get out.

There was the not so sweet old lady in her fur coat, who was screaming at me because I was stuck in gridlock. She was yelling, the horns were honking in a symphony, and there was absolutely nothing
I could do. It was total gridlock. As I sat there in the absurdity of it all, I started laughing out loud. I never forgot that. It was great to just laugh, though it did get her to yell extra loud.

There was the woman who dropped her cigarette that smoldered and filled the car with smoke, making me think the taxi was on fire. One of the most frightening situations was the passenger who pulled a knife out and started waving it and ranting as I drove along the FDR Drive. There was no immediate exit in sight, nowhere to go. When I finally exited onto a service road, he darted out of the cab and ran. I didn’t chase him.

One morning, a commodities trader rushed into my cab on the upper east side. I got her down to her Wall Street office in twenty minutes in the middle of the morning rush hour – a miracle. But, she was late and enraged at me. She said it was my fault, that I had taken her out of her way. “Do you know how much it costs me to be seven minutes late,” she spewed at me. I had to talk her out of reporting me to the Taxi and Limousine Commission.

The stories go on and on. And there were some very kind and generous people as well. The stormy day I picked up Lynn Redgrave in the driving rain on the northwest corner of Columbus Circle. I had one of those rickety beat-up cars, but she got in with elegance. She was grateful and graceful and kind. I felt like I had a princess in my car, and she treated me like a prince.

And the wealthy young woman, who, though I got lost several times, was kind and patient and understanding. You remember that kind of simple kindness and grace…the rest of your life. I try to emulate it in times of stress.

Those were formative times, and if we remain open and searching and interested, our formative times never end. How they form us depends on the window we look through; our view of life and humanity filters the experience and gives it meaning. Sometimes, we reject a challenge outright, when grit and perseverance can see it through and open up great new horizons. The choices of anger and condemnation versus patience and understanding or even laughter; seeking rapport or looking down as different or lesser. And yes, if we stop and think, these can be choices. In our everyday lives, we can dare to change a way of looking at the world…just one filter tweaked one little bit can open new pathways of perception for the rest of our lives.

December 12, 2017December 13, 2017

The Pit and the Pendulum – Lessons in Executive Leadership

Some executives believe that pitting managers or teams against each other will create vigorous competition, with the best leader(s) emerging on top. They’re wrong! The result will likely be the most divisive manager or team at the top, ready to sow seeds of distrust, suspicion, hostility and stress. Those ingredients kill-off creativity, innovation, collaboration and growth. In that Pit of conflict, the Pendulum may come to a complete halt. I had the experience of being called in to this kind of environment to conduct what can only be called “an intervention.”

The multi-year, enterprise-wide IT project that already cost many tens of millions of dollars, was way overdue and way over budget. The board of directors was more than a little concerned. It had reached a crescendo. The COO and CIO brought me in to work with the IT management teams. There were two teams and they were at war. I interviewed each manager individually and met with each team separately before daring to bring them together. The stress, anguish and frustration was palpable and poured forth in outbursts of rage and finger-pointing. The Delivery Team was responsible for the system design, software development, coding and delivery of the system. The Testing Team was responsible for every level of testing and for identifying bugs in the system. The Testing Team was dependent on the Delivery Team to understand every element of the system, in order to design the appropriate testing to identify flaws.

There was a powerful interdependency between the teams. That’s usually good.
But, the two management teams had two different sets of goals, and the goals of one team were in direct conflict with the goals of the other team. To add heat and fire to that situation, the teams’ incentive compensation was based on reaching their goals. The results – these management teams were in constant conflict and the project was in a quagmire. The Pendulum had stopped, but the clock and related budget dollars had been ticking on.

The first meeting with both teams had the feel and fireworks of marriage counselling.
Once they had the opportunity to air their differences, I pointed something out that they already knew – the status quo was unacceptable. The board was ready to step in and act. That’s why the COO and CIO sent me in and that’s why I had their full support. Now,
“What do you want to do about it?”

Unfortunately, their solutions were down in the weeds of the existing conflicts.
I asked them, “What is the overall goal for the company as a whole?”
It took a while, and they were able to articulate it and come to consensus on that goal.
Then came the tricky part. As I asked the next question, I felt a little like the guy on the high wire over Niagara Falls, because everything hinged on this.

“Now that we have identified the overall goal for the company, and since both teams have dependencies on each other that must be met in order for the system to be completed, would it make sense to have one set of goals that both teams are mutually judged on?”

There was silence, then grumbling. Finally, a couple of voices perked up. The logic was so compelling, so obvious, they slowly emerged to a consensus and embraced the idea. It was the crucial next step.

(I actually wanted them to be one team, but there was so much individual team identification and team pride – a good thing in most situations but not in this one. I left that as the next evolution.)

I took them a little by surprise at that point. I told them, “Stay right here. I’m going to try to get the COO and the CIO into the room right now to endorse this change.”

I scurried around the building fishing them both out of meetings, explaining the situation and prepping them for the need to approve this change right now. I brought them both into the room and asked one manager from each team to present the new joint goals the two teams had agreed to and the new direction they wanted to take. The CIO and COO approved it on the spot. The CIO immediately followed up with the Director of HR to change their incentive compensation to align both teams to the same goals and metrics.

There was one more small but important change we made. When testing showed up a bug, it was being called a “bug” or an “error.” The design and development managers felt highly insulted every time that happened and it destroyed trust and cooperation. We came up with a euphemism, “item to investigate.” It didn’t completely quell the issue, but it did take a lot of the hurt out of it and made it more objective. It turned out to be an important step.

I went on to meet with the management teams weekly for several months, which they came to refer to as their therapy sessions. The quagmire had been broken. They were clearly making strides forward. It wasn’t always happiness and joy, but sometimes it was, and the bite and battles had simmered down and mostly disappeared. At that point, my job was done. They went on to meet their new goals and their newly appointed deadlines. They delivered this huge system – a revolutionary change for the entire enterprise.

In retrospect, it all seems so obvious. But, it took a completely objective observer, one who could articulate the issues and, more importantly, gain the trust of the management teams and the senior executives, to allow them to embrace the change they needed to move forward.