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Too many years later, I came to the realization that John was wrong. I came to the realization that I focused on the wrong piece of our conversation. 

You see, what I heard was a limitation being imposed on me that would keep me in check for many years. It became a story I told myself over and over again, each year, anticipating disappointing results. When the results were better than expected, then I could feel better about the situation. When the results were what I had come to expect (a low, uninspiring number), then…no harm, no foul, right? But “the situation” I had come to expect was harming me, was foul. It kept me from envisioning anything better for myself than the bare minimum. Who knows what kind of ripple effect that thinking had on me? I am sure there was an element of self-fulfilling prophecy at work because I never saw anything better for myself. Well, at least not until I started believing in something better for myself.

What I should have heard was someone who had worked for the company for many years and who was just trying to set realistic expectations with a newbie. What I should have heard was someone who had obviously set limitations on their own possibilities. What I should have heard was a challenge to blow away all expectations.

It wasn’t until relatively recently that I released myself from whatever self-imposed restrictions I placed on myself because of how I chose to internalize something someone else said to me 11 years ago.  Mouthful, I know.  But, I buried that injury deep. I buried it so deep, in fact, that the impact of that moment was never quite clear to me. I didn’t understand the full impact of that interaction until just a few days ago, to be honest. As I began to truly explore that experience, I realized that it not only lead me to impose limits on myself, it also colored the way I felt about salary administration in general.  For years, I agonized over having to have those conversations about money with my direct reports. I never really understood why. I always assumed it was because I didn’t want to deal with other people’s monetary hang-ups. Boy, was I wrong!  What I didn’t want to deal with were my OWN hang-ups.

Why is this a problem?  Well, it’s a problem because I became a manager and learned about leadership so that I could have a positive impact on the lives of other people. Most of the year, I get to experience a feedback loop that keeps me in touch with the people I am entrusted to lead, that keeps me in touch with what drives me, and that keeps me in touch with how both of these help me grow as a human being. I lose touch with that feedback loop every year around salary admin time. Heck, I lose touch with myself. Just ask my wife. I can be a crabby asshole. That state of being affects her, affects my children, affects my co-workers, affects my team…it insinuates itself into so many aspects of my life. I think part of that’s just human nature; there’s an Ebenezer Scrooge in all of us.

By denying myself the opportunity to acknowledge and experience the continuum of leadership, the ups and the downs, I was not allowing myself to get satisfaction out of my job.  I spend a lot of time at work, just like most people, and not getting the most out of my job…man, that just sucks.  Some people like to fix things.  Some people like to sell things.  Some people like to help people be better members of a corporation.  But all people, all people, who work want to at least get some measure of satisfaction from their job. It helps us get through everyday and feel like what we do matters to someone, somewhere. 

I’m not blaming John for how I felt.  He said what he said because he was who he was.  He wasn’t trying to crush my spirit.  I think he was just trying to be realistic. That said, the whole interaction does remind me of something my father used to tell me: there is a right way and a wrong way to deliver a message. I allowed what he said to affect me because I was sensitive and insecure.  I buried it because that was my coping mechanism.  I’m digging this stuff up now.  Heck, I’m digging stuff up all the time these days.  My coping mechanisms are different today than they were 11 years ago.  It’s ironic that I was an anthropology major, now that I think about it.  I spend a lot of time freeing artifacts from the prisons of their past. 

In 2009, I freed myself from a limitation that I put on myself a long time ago.  I freed myself from a burden that grew from that self-inflicted injury.  I am no longer constrained by a belief that I had about my potential.  It’s not just about my potential to make money, either. It is also about my confidence as a leader to manage a system that I have to manage in order to compensate the people who report to me for the work that they do.  And it’s about making sure I am in touch, in the moment, and able to deliver my messages the right way, just like my dad said.

Now, that systemI mentioned…the one the drives how corporations compensate their employees?  THAT is a rant for another day…

I should really be saving this rant for another date and time early next year when we have to dole out the yearly salary increases, but I’m feeling inspired right now. 

In corporate life, there are many things that are paradoxical, contradictory, or even counter-intuitive.  There are many mixed messages that get created in the whirlwind of corporate ideals, goals, spin doctoring, and priorities.  Historically, yearly salary administration has been the bane…THE BANE…of my existence.  For all of my years as a leader and manager, I have recited the same lament: “I hate this time of year.”  A common variation is, “I love everything about my job except salary administration.”  Not so anymore.  Something has fundamentally changed my outlook this year.  It makes the most sense if I first tell a short story.

When I was a newly minted manager, I had but a few weeks under my belt before annual salary administration came around.  Nobody blamed me for their inadequate raises…because, after all, what you get is NEVER enough.  Well, almost never.  For me, my raise that year was plenty.  Apart from having to administer raises in tandem with the gentleman who I was replacing, as an employee myself, I got to enjoy the other side of the table.  The gentleman I was replacing also happened to be my boss, so, when we sat down to talk salary, the man who had been my mentor and most ardent supporter was allowed the pleasure of telling me my percent increase for the year.  Back in those days, there was a very rigid system in place that matched salary grade to job description.  It was so rigid, in fact, that to promote anyone required that the person in question be given compensation equal to the very minimum of the salary range for that position.  In my case, my current salary and the minimum of my new position were vastly different.  I’m talking about a sizable gap.  Sizable.

I arrived at my boss’ office.  He waved me in.  I sat down.  We talked.  I told him how excited I was about my first leadership assignment.  He told me how proud he was.  We exchanged encouraging compliments.  We wished each other well on our new roles.  And, then, he told informed me of my increase.

“17%,” he said.  “Not even prorated.”

I was floored.  It was incredible.  I couldn’t believe it.  My wife was going to have a baby when she heard about this…and we weren’t even pregnant. 

I think he gushed some more about me, how he was entrusting his team to me, but I can’t remember anything else.  When we were done, I stood to leave.

“John wants to see you,” he said.  John was his boss.

I hesitated.  “OK,” I said reluctantly.  I was barely in my mid-20s, and I was still very susceptible to organizational intimidation.  I didn’t “gel” with John, and I could swear that dude thought I was a dork.  Regardless, I gathered up my courage and headed off to John’s office.

I knocked at the door.  John turned around. 

“Come in,” he said.  He gestured towards a chair.

Small talk.  Congratulations.  After about 5 minutes, he got to it.

“You will never, ever see this kind of raise again.” 

I was crushed.  There was nothing gentle about it.  There was no note of pleasantness, no glimmer of hope.  All he gave me was the assertion that I would never, ever be worth that much to this organization again.  And I listened to him.

I believed him.

My children still dream in that way that only children can dream.

They would like to go to Africa.

They would like to go to Japan.

My oldest thinks it would be cool to go to Antarctica.  He plans on doing it.  

My youngest thinks it would be cool to go to Radiator Springs.  He plans on doing it.

But…I can sense that subtle change starting in my oldest.  You know, that hesitation.  It’s the beginning of the seeds of doubt.  It is what most of us would call “maturity.”

I call it tragic and, frankly, stupid.  Why does there need to be doubt?  What keeps me from hopping on a plane right now and heading off to Africa?  OK, my wife probably wouldn’t be very happy about the whole “ditching” thing, but I would “ditto” that one if she pulled something like that on me.  No, my wife is much more likely to figure out how to pay for ALL of us to go.  But, seriously, what is the point of editing?  Editing is limiting, and limiting is just another form of death.  

Better to live a life dreaming and not fulfilling all your dreams than to live a mature life and never once dream again.

There is a difference between having your head in the clouds, always wishing for a “better tomorrow” that will never come and dreaming like a child about the infinitely cool things you can do.  When your head is in the clouds, you neglect to live in the moment, always wishing that you were living a better life.  When you dream like a child, you live for every moment and actively engage in creating the next.  

I want my head out of the clouds.  I want to dream like my children.  Most importantly, I want to help my family make their dreams come true.

Years ago, I went above and beyond for someone who reported to me.  He had only been working for the company for a few weeks when he fractured his leg rollerskating.  He could not come to work.  The fracture was so bad that his doctor put him on bed rest.  He did not have sick days or personal holidays.  His medical benefits hadn’t even kicked in yet.  In short, the guy was screwed.

So, I made a few calls.  I asked for people to help me help this guy.  This was at a time when people just didn’t work from home.  The technology was barely there, and it was expensive to use it.  I made a few more calls, and I got this guy set up to work from home.  I bent some of the rules to help this person out because I knew that, as a single dad, he couldn’t afford to lose his brand new job.  When everything was ironed out, I felt good about what I had done.

Less than a year later, I found myself sitting in an office in HR because the same employee wanted to file some sort of complaint about me.  It turns out that he didn’t like his performance evaluation.  He also didn’t like his merit increase.  He felt that I wasn’t qualified to evaluate his performance and that I was unfair in my assessment.  

I was so far beyond pissed off and shocked that I couldn’t even articulate what I was feeling.  It turned out to be a HUGE lesson for me: don’t give an inch because they will take a mile and stab you in the back as they take it.  This guy obviously didn’t care about the lengths to which I went to ensure he could keep working.  His memory was apparently very short.  I swore then that I wouldn’t go out of my way to help anyone again.  Screw them all.  Let them fend for themselves.  Whatever the circumstances of their lives…I didn’t care.  Just manage by the book.  Don’t expect anything in return.

I held on to that hurt for a little bit…maybe a year…maybe less.  Once I had some time to lick my wounds and feel sorry for myself, I came to realize that my only real mistake was expecting something in return.  My error was in assuming that I SHOULD expect something in return.  The truth is, the act of doing something good or “nice” for someone else should never be done with the expectation of repayment.  Repayment will come in other forms, in other ways, and, most likely, at a time not of our choosing.  

So, why today?  Why dredge this up this Sunday evening?  Well, it’s just that time of year.  The third quarter of this year is coming to a close.  Before we know it, the end of the year will be here, and with that will come all those fun “year end” work events like final reviews and last-minute projects.  I will find myself in a position to help others, to go the extra mile for them, many times during the course of the next few months.  And with each act of coolness I bestow upon some else, I will expect nothing in return.  I will look for nothing.  I will be motivated by nothing.  Why?  Because I know that I must do what I consider to be right and true.  I will opt for compassion and love, and I will do so without expecting to receive a single thing in return.

I am too tired to give much of a hoot about proofing today, so proceed at your own risk…

I am tired of commuting.  I am not one who is really prone to bitching, but…for Pete’s sake…I am getting frickin’ sick and tired of my drive.  I mean, I pretty much move along at a decent clip for most of my trip, but it feels like it takes so honkin’ long to get from here to there and back again.  And if I leave a few minutes outside of my narrow window, then I’m guaranteed an extra fifteen minutes or so.  That doesn’t sound like a lot, but tack that on to my normal hour and fifteen or twenty minutes, and you might see why it begins to get to a fellow.  

So, forgive me if I have nothing brilliant to say.  Not that I’m brilliant any other day, but I just got nothing today.

Well, not true.  I did share my latest relationship theory with someone at work today.  Want to hear it?  OK.  So, I think that every single relationship we have, whether personal or professional, profound or casual, goes to Hell in the proverbial hand basket as a result of unfulfilled and/or unmet expectations.  Think about the number of times you and your significant other or you and your sister or you and your BFFF have had a falling out because of an expectation that was unmet.  

To make matters worse, so often, our expectations are unspoken.  There are the few that we actually voice to others; then there’s the much larger percentage of expectations that we keep bottled up.  Still worse yet, there are the ones we keep bottled up because they are SO REASONABLE and SO LOGICAL and SO COMMON SENSE that ANYBODY WITH HALF A BRAIN would have known what you meant.  Right?  Sound familiar?  If you think this only happens between men and women in their private and intimate relationships, you are SO wrong.  This happens all the time between all kinds of people.  Seriously, when was the last time you succinctly and completely stated an expectation to someone with whom you usually have misunderstandings?  How about stated the expectation and ASKED for confirmation of understanding?  It would seem to me that a few simple tweaks in our everyday communication could lead to a far more harmonious and fulfilling life.  

Well, try it at work.  Try it with the boss.  See what happens.  

Yeah, good luck with that!

Of course, a sense of safety, like all things, is relative.  

I know that many of my friends and former classmates who still live in Mexico live lives that many of my friends and colleagues here in the United States would consider dangerous.  They face threats that we do not face here.  Or, better said, they face threats that we can pretty much avoid should we choose to.  I do not drive into the South Side of Chicago at night for a stroll.  Likewise, I suspect that there are not many people from the South Side of Chicago driving into golf course communities in Naperville.  This is the nature of the world we live in.  That said, such situations are entirely avoidable.  Like I said, I don’t take the drive to the South Side.  Choice…situation avoided.

There are places where such choices would be considered a luxury.  In the United States, there are those who would argue that the choice I enjoy is not a choice for everyone.  Likewise, in Mexico, there are people who have little choice, and they are stuck living their lives confronting danger as part of their daily experience.  This is how many people live across the Earth, to varying degrees.

Yet, people continue to live.  Some merely survive, yes, but many live.  They seek to live full lives, experiencing the entire range of human emotions that you and I experience.  Sometimes, they experience the worst in others.  Sometimes, they experience the best.  Everyone experiences both along a broad spectrum that ranges from the lowest lows to the highest highs.  Take as an example this post by a blogger in Lagos, Nigeria: http://josephekwu.wordpress.com/2009/09/08/my-darkest-friday/.  Joseph experienced the worst of humanity a few Fridays ago.  His life was threatened at gunpoint, his possessions stolen.  Yet…a few posts later, he writes of his journey to a wedding.  A wedding.  Don’t you see?  Ups and downs; highs and lows.  The broad spectrum of human experiences.

I frequent Joseph’s his blog because he provides a perspective in my life to which I would otherwise be deaf, blind, ignorant.  Besides, he seems to be a good man, plain and simple.  I think Joseph just seeks to live his life with dignity, to the fullest, and share it with others.  How different is that from me?  Not much.  No, not much at all.

And how different is that from you?

I know that I have to brush up on my grammar, particularly when it comes to punctuation.  Commas.  Hyphens.  Colons.  Semi-colons.  Dot, dot, dots.  Or is that dot…dot…dots…?

I could use a proofreader, too.  And an editor.  I am not a “pro,” by any stretch, but I have a love of writing.  I take it seriously.  I try my best to balance proper grammar, proper punctuation, and proper use of the English language with art, style, and “effect.”

I owe my love of English, in part, to my many years of education.  I had great teachers when I was young, and the trend continued as I progressed through to high school graduation.  In the university, I was fortunate, as well, that I had many talented teachers in various disciplines who thought enough of their students to critique their writing skills and their mastery of the English language.  I owe them all a great debt.

So, it bothers me to see atrociously written communication from professional, educated individuals.  It’s one thing to take some shortcuts when you’re texting your friends or when you’re posting on someone’s Facebook page, but it’s an entirely different matter when you receive E-mail at work from a Blackberry with no thought to punctuation, capitalization, or even sentence structure.  I mean, seriously.  Is it that hard to put a period at the end of a sentence?  Or to figure out which key on your phone is the one you need to press to get a “cap” at the front of a sentence?  When I text, I generally use one hand…one finger, really…but I ALWAYS take the extra millisecond necessary to put a period at the end of a sentence!  

And I am not the only person who thinks this is kind of nutty.  I’ve heard people commenting on this very subject at work.  To me, the biggest disaster is when it comes from people in positions of influence and leadership.  People notice these things.  They really do.  I think it telegraphs a message about how much you value the communication that you are sending.  I think it also telegraphs a message about what you think about the people to whom you are sending such messages.  Let’s face it: we all know that nobody is sending poorly-written communication up the chain to Senior VPs or corporate executives.  No way.  So, where is that line drawn then?  Who is worth a quick glance at a grammar book?  Who is worth a trip to www.m-w.com to ensure that the proper word is being used?  I don’t know where that cut off is, but I know I do my best to value the art of written communication, and, more importantly, the audience reading what I write.

I can be sloppy some times.  I can miss a grammar rule.  But there is nothing lazy about anything I write, and I sure as heck don’t take anyone reading for granted.  All it really takes to make a difference is an attempt at proper grammar.

You begin Monday with a certain belief.

What you learn on Wednesday contradicts what you believed on Monday.

On Friday, your belief has changed.

What you learned on Wednesday is probably the most important piece of the puzzle.  Perhaps it is the most important piece of any puzzle.

If your belief does not change on Friday…is that conviction?  Or is it denial?  In the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, does commitment to an idea that may almost certainly be false foolishness?  Or is that faith?

If you belief does change on Friday…is that prudence?  Or is it wisdom?  At what point do we allow truth to change our minds instead of stubbornly sticking to outdated ideals?

I am not sure.  What I do know is that I would expect anyone to wake up on Friday as a slightly different person than they were upon waking up Monday morning.

On Sunday evening, I simply look forward to being further enlightened by the week ahead.

Don’t ask me how I find these things.

Actually, I would love to talk to you about how I find these things. The world is filled with beautiful and inspirational things.

“A wallah is one who performs a specific task.” They perform it over and over and over again, developing that task into an art form. Patrick Shaw has more to say about this in his post about chai wallahs: http://chaipilgrimage.com/2008/11/28/what-is-a-chai-wallah/

I think we need more chai wallahs in the world.  Actually, I think they are all over the place.  The problem is that we don’t see them…or they don’t allow themselves to be seen.  It’s a shame because they add color where color is needed in what can otherwise be a monotone landscape.

So, now I am asking myself, “And you are the wallah of…what?”

I don’t know. It would be a good idea to become the wallah of something, though. Wouldn’t it?

And you…you are the wallah of…what?