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By Ron Culberson. With a master’s degree in social work, Ron Culberson spent the first part of his career working in a large hospice organization as a clinical social worker, middle manager, and senior leader. As a speaker, humorist, and author of "Do it Well. Make it Fun.The Key to Success in Life, Death, and Almost Everything in Between", he has delivered more than 1,000 presentations to associations, government agencies, non-profit organizations, and corporations. His mission is to change the workplace culture so that organizations are more productive and staff are more content. He was also the 2012-2013 president of the National Speakers Association and is a recognized expert on the benefits of humor and laughter.
When I sent out my last email newsletter, I received more than 350 autoresponders. You know what autoresponders are, right? They’re those automatic return emails that say something like, “I’m out of the office having more fun than this and will respond to your email when I return.” Generally speaking, I receive about 30-40 autoresponders for any particular newsletter. Even though my distribution list is fairly large, I had never gotten anywhere near 350 autoresponders before. So, when the deluge started, I panicked. I was sure that something somewhere was, for some reason, somewhat broken. I don’t know about you, but I can conjure up a pretty good panic if I need to. I can imagine the worst case scenario and work myself into a tizzy—and I’m not even sure what a “tizzy” is. So, in the case of this seemingly endless stream of autoresponders, I imagined that my newsletter service provider had sent my emails to the wrong list. Or perhaps my computer had been hacked by a bored yet resourceful high school student who was now sending my emails to people I didn’t know. Or maybe the Russians had gained control over the entire internet infrastructure. Clearly, I’m pretty good at tizzies. Well, it turns out there were some logical reasons for the increase in autoresponders. First, my newsletter service provider had upgraded their system and as a result, fewer autoresponders were filtered out. And second, I had decreased the threshold of my spam filter because it was blocking legitimate emails. Due to these “adjustments,” I received more than ten times as many autoresponders. Ironically, though, they alerted me to the fact that many of my subscribers had retired or taken new jobs and thus, their email addresses were no longer valid. So, while the initial shock of a potential Russian takeover sent me into a tizzy, the reality of the situation was not nearly as bad as I had imagined. This is what we tend to do. We take our daily molehills and instead of sidestepping them, we turn them into unclimbable mountains. One of the most interesting ideas I’ve stumbled upon recently is the Buddhist concept of impermanence. Simply put, impermanence means that nothing on our planet lasts forever. Not the trees, not the buildings, not even the people. Now, I understand that one could make a valid argument that God lasts forever. Or love lasts forever. Or even our role as a parent lasts forever. But in a more tangible sense, everything eventually changes or ceases to exist. The other day, I was on a step ladder retrieving a sweater that I had stored away. As I reached for the sweater, I bumped my head against the edge of a ceiling light. As you older bald men know, the skin on our heads becomes thinner than tissue paper as we age. So, the edge of the light cut a small gash in my head. My immediate reaction was to get angry. You see, I bump my head all the time and there seems to always be a cut, scratch, or bruise on my scalp. All I could think was, “Dang it, not again.” But then, I became aware of the error in my thinking. I realized that the cut will eventually heal and then it will be gone. In other words, it too will pass. At that moment, I felt less stress and began to relax…and then I went to find the box of adhesive bandages that we now buy in bulk because of my repeated noggin knockin. The ceiling light incident was an example of a bad situation that actually got better. But many times we find ourselves in good situations that get worse. It’s in these times that the understanding of impermanence can help. When we cling to the way things are, we have difficulty accepting the way things may become. As our children age and leave home, we long for when they were younger. As our bodies get older, we long for the days when our knees didn’t creak and our backs didn’t ache. When a loved one dies, we long for being with them again. And yet, this is exactly how life unfolds—for all of us. Time moves on, things change, and we adapt. Truthfully, it’s impossible for things to stay the same. If we can grasp this idea of impermanence, we can spend less time resisting the reality of change and spend more time appreciating our moment to moment existence as we journey through life. Now, to be clear, this doesn’t mean we don’t try to solve problems or to improve our situations when we can. It just means that we don’t cling to the way things were as a way to avoid the way things might become. When I encountered the hundreds of autoresponders, I started pacing around the house worrying about all the possible problems this newfound dilemma might represent. That response created stress for me and for my wife who had to listen to my worrisome whining. If, on the other hand, I had remembered that the problem would eventually pass, I could have returned my focus to dealing with the realities of the issue rather than living in the tizzy-making possibilities that might never actually happen. Impermanence is a reality that makes life a bit easier when we understand it. Sometimes, dealing with impermanence is difficult such as when we lose a job or have to care for an aging pet. And sometimes impermanence is for the better such as when we eliminated carbon paper and gas-guzzling cars. Either way, accepting impermanence allows us to not get too locked in to the way things have been and to instead accept the way things have become. Oh, and by the way, the cut on my head is gone—just in time to bump into something else! Looking for your next healthcare speaker? Get in touch with us at the Capitol City Speakers Bureau today to make your healthcare event a success!
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By Ron Culberson. With a master’s degree in social work, Ron Culberson spent the first part of his career working in a large hospice organization as a clinical social worker, middle manager, and senior leader. As a speaker, humorist, and author of "Do it Well. Make it Fun.The Key to Success in Life, Death, and Almost Everything in Between", he has delivered more than 1,000 presentations to associations, government agencies, non-profit organizations, and corporations. His mission is to change the workplace culture so that organizations are more productive and staff are more content. He was also the 2012-2013 president of the National Speakers Association and is a recognized expert on the benefits of humor and laughter.
Each of us has unique skills that we can use in our life and work. Sometimes, however, it takes a while to figure out just what those skills are. Early in my career, I heard other speakers talk about how they customized every presentation they did. They would interview people, read organizational documents, and then adjust the content so that it tied their material into the theme of the meeting and the challenges for that particular audience. I’ve always admired people who can do that. In fact, I’m amazed that pastors can create an entirely new sermon every week. To them, I say, “Amen!” For a few years, I tried to customize my humor by writing specific material before each presentation. For instance, if I was speaking to a group of nurses in a large health care system, I would learn all I could about the system, I would read their internal newsletters, I would interview several members of the nursing staff, and then I would write specific humor based on the information I had gathered. But the humor typically fell flat and I got the sound of crickets rather than laughs. I finally realized the problem—I was trying to write inside humor as an outside humorist. Since I didn’t work within the organizations, I didn’t truly grasp the subtle idiosyncrasies that would have made the humor more relevant to the people who did work there. So, I had to figure out a way to use my humor skills differently. In other words, I had to customize the way I applied them. It turns out that I can see humor in the moment better than I can see humor before the moment. So, I took advantage of this skill and began to write funny lines while attending the conferences and meetings where I was speaking. For instance, I’ll go to the reception the night before my presentation. Or I’ll listen to the speaker who precedes me. And if I’m lucky, I’ll have the last presentation of the day and get to watch all of the speakers ahead of me. In each scenario, I’ll start my presentation with a few references to things that happened—and since the audience was there too, my comments are not only funnier, they’re more relevant to the listeners. This has made all the difference in the world because I am no longer guessing at how people experience their work. Instead, I I’m commenting on an experience that we all shared. Here are a couple of examples: Once, I spoke to a large audience of mostly women. On the first day of the conference, the emcee mentioned that because of the number of women at the event and the shortage of restrooms, the convention center had converted the closest men’s restroom to a women’s restroom. The men would need to go, so to speak, across the convention center to the only other available men’s restroom. When I was finally introduced, I ran onstage and pretended to be out of breath. I said, “Whew! I almost missed my introduction. You see, my cab from the men’s room was late.” The line got a great response because it brought to light something everyone had heard earlier in the day but then exaggerated the distance in a funny way. I think this made a much greater impact than something I could have written ahead of time because it was so relevant to that particular moment. One of my favorite in-the-moment lines occurred after I watched a speaker deliver a presentation on conflict management. Prior to his presentation, when his title slide was projected on the screen, he leaned over to me and said, “Oh, no, I just noticed I have a typo on my opening slide.” The slide looked like this: Conflict Management John Smith June 21,s 2010. So, there was an accidental “s” in the date. He simply laughed it off when he went onstage and gave a great presentation. During my part of the program, when I was referring back to his presentation, I said, “Well you probably noticed that John had a typo on his opening slide. He was actually quite unnerved by it. Just before he went onstage, he leaned over to me and said, “Does that comma make my ’S’ look big?” I could have dropped the mic at that point as the audience burst into laughter. Even John was laughing. And once again I was reminded that I’m much more effective when I focus my humor on the present moment. You see, there are many ways we can customize our gifts and skills for what we do. I believe it is this very uniqueness that makes us stand out in the crowd. So we need to find ways to tap into those qualities in both our work and personal lives. For example, if you are a natural salesperson, are you in a role where you can sell ideas or products? Or if you are great with people, are you in a role where you can use your people skills to organize or facilitate groups and teams? Or if you are a good writer, are you in a role where you can put your writing skills to work? Using our uniqueness doesn’t mean that we have to find a job where that’s all we do. It simply means that we should be on the lookout for ways to use our particular skills—rather than just doing what everyone else does. I’m not that good at pre-writing humor. And for a while, I thought I had to develop my material that way because that’s what others did. Luckily the absence of laughter suggested otherwise. That’s when I realized that if I customize my skills and use in-the-moment humor instead, I get more laughs and less crickets. And to that, I say, “Amen!” Looking for your next healthcare speaker? Get in touch with us at the Capitol City Speakers Bureau today to make your healthcare event a success! By Ron Culberson. With a master’s degree in social work, Ron Culberson spent the first part of his career working in a large hospice organization as a clinical social worker, middle manager, and senior leader. As a speaker, humorist, and author of "Do it Well. Make it Fun.The Key to Success in Life, Death, and Almost Everything in Between", he has delivered more than 1,000 presentations to associations, government agencies, non-profit organizations, and corporations. His mission is to change the workplace culture so that organizations are more productive and staff are more content. He was also the 2012-2013 president of the National Speakers Association and is a recognized expert on the benefits of humor and laughter.
When I was young, we dialed 411 or “Information” on the telephone when we needed to find out the time, the weather, or someone’s phone number. Today we use Google or Siri to find just about anything we need. But sometimes, in the middle of a conversation, we may need clarification or more details to help us understand and we’re not able to dial 411 or ask for Siri’s help. A few weeks ago, I was boarding a United flight from Washington, DC to Madison, WI on a small plane with only fifty seats. Because I often find myself on these small regional jets, I purchased a medium-size duffle bag that will fit in any overhead compartment. That way, I don’t have to check my bag and can get to my connections more quickly. On this particular flight, I approached the plane and a United agent told me I would have to check my bag. I assumed that she assumed the bag would not fit. So I said, “Actually, I’ve used this bag many times before. I’m sure it will fit.” She said, “Sir, you are only allowed one bag on the flight.” I said, “Yes, I only have one bag…and then this backpack.” She said, “No, you are only allowed ONE bag…period.” When someone says “period” out loud rather than just letting it sit silently at the end of a sentence, it sounds just a tad more aggressive. I asked her, “Why would I only be allowed one bag when the policy on your website says, ‘one bag and a personal item such as a purse or a briefcase’?” She said, “Sir, you’re just not allowed to take this bag onboard. Now give it to me.” She pulled the bag from my hand, put a green tag on it, and placed it on the cart with the other checked bags. I was flummoxed (and I don’t even know what that is). When I got onboard, I asked the flight attendant why I couldn’t bring my bag on the flight. She said, “I have no idea.” This is when I started to feel a spike in my blood pressure. If two employees who work for the same company couldn’t explain a new policy that led to my bag being taken from my cold dead hand (OK, granted, that’s a slight exaggeration), it was going to ruffle my feathers (and I don’t know what that means either). Can you imagine being given a ticket from a police officer and when you ask why you got the ticket, he simply says, “Because…period.”? This approach might work for us parents who sometimes enforce a rule out of frustration rather than a well-thought out policy but in the real world, it doesn’t usually fly. This bag fiasco happened on two subsequent flights. In each situation, I asked the ticket agent and the flight attendant why I couldn’t take my it-will-squish-and-fit-on-any-plane bag onboard. Each time, they just said they didn’t know the details but that it must be an FAA policy. After the third encounter, I sought out a United Customer Service Center representative within the airport and asked if she could explain the rule. She said that she “thought” it was a relatively new policy and had something to do with weight and balance issues. In my typical sarcastically frustrated way, I explained that all of these planes were now flying with empty overhead bins and it seemed to me that since the planes were built with these bins, the manufacturers probably intended them to be used. Also, I added, that if the planes are that sensitive to weight and balance issues, there is a bigger problem here that we’re not addressing. She had no further explanation but I could tell she was a bit flummoxed with my typical sarcastically frustrated approach. So, let’s unpack my baggage issue a bit. First, United has a new inconsistently applied baggage stowage policy that needs to be resolved internally. Second, and the part that applies to most of us, is that we all want to understand the policies that affect us. We just want the 411 and don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. In most situations, it makes more sense to over-communicate than to under-communicate. Once, a couple of decades ago, I participated on a committee that was charged with eliminating ten percent of our organization’s workforce due to financial troubles. We worked for several weeks trying to find the right way to accomplish this. Finally, when all the positions to be eliminated were identified, one of my colleagues reminded us that even though we had discussed, argued, and lived with our decisions for several weeks, when we announced the changes to all of our employees, it would be new information to them. She suggested that we allow the employees to have time to absorb the information, to ask questions, and to challenge our assumptions. That way, they would be better able to understand and cope with the changes better. I thought it was a brilliant observation that I remember to this day and try to apply to my own communication situations. The bottom line is this: We shouldn’t stow away data as United did with my carry-on bag. Instead, when we’re dealing with information that other people may not completely understand, we should take the time to understand the issue, explain what we know, and then try to help them understand in a patient and non-defensive way. The more we understand what others understand, the better we will be able to close the gap of understanding by then understanding the informational differences in our understanding. And while that may be repetitively redundant, I hope you got the 411. Looking for your next healthcare speaker? Get in touch with us at the Capitol City Speakers Bureau today to make your healthcare event a success! By Ron Culberson. With a master’s degree in social work, Ron Culberson spent the first part of his career working in a large hospice organization as a clinical social worker, middle manager, and senior leader. As a speaker, humorist, and author of "Do it Well. Make it Fun.The Key to Success in Life, Death, and Almost Everything in Between", he has delivered more than 1,000 presentations to associations, government agencies, non-profit organizations, and corporations. His mission is to change the workplace culture so that organizations are more productive and staff are more content. He was also the 2012-2013 president of the National Speakers Association and is a recognized expert on the benefits of humor and laughter.
Shortly after Memorial Day, the Christmas decorations went up. OK, I’m exaggerating. But sometimes it feels that way, doesn’t it? I wonder if one day, we’ll just leave the decorations up all year. In my Christian faith, I often hear people remind us to remember the “reason for the season.” In other words, instead of focusing primarily on the material side of Christmas, we might want to consider focusing more on the spiritual side of Christmas. It’s probably a good idea. But as I considered the phrase, I realized that the reverse is also true. This time of year is the “season for the reason.” Let me explain. As a child, I could not wait for Christmas. It was the one day when I got a lot of free stuff. I didn’t always get the free stuff I wanted but it was free stuff nonetheless. For the record, I’m still waiting for that can of Silly String I requested six years in a row but never got because my mother was convinced it would ruin the couch. But even with the disappointments, Christmas was exciting. As an adult, the holidays are still exciting but they also come with just a tad bit of stress (OK, more than a tad bit!). There is shopping to do, cards to send out, cookies to bake, and all of this must be accomplished while dealing with the other stressed out people who are on the roads doing their shopping, mailing their cards, and buying their cookie supplies. In fact, I’ve jokingly said that the holiday season officially starts when someone flips me off in traffic. We’re yule-tired, egg-bogged, and one nut shy of being fruit cakes. That’s what made me think of this concept of the “season for the reason.” In other words, are we really clear about why we do what we do during the holidays? Are we doing something because of expectations, or traditions, or perhaps because it’s the right thing to do? Let’s think this through. Years ago, I used to compose a lengthy and extremely witty letter to send to everyone on our holiday card list. I chronicled all that we had done that year using a clever thematic format. One year the letter was written as a college yearbook. Another year, it was written as a noir detective novel. And after the Florida elections in 2000, the letter looked like a ballot with hanging chads and all. But as our children grew up and we all got busier, the letter got longer and longer. As a result, I had to reduce the font size on our letter down to around three or four. In fact, some of the older members on our list, whose eyesight was waning, would ask, “Why does your holiday letter look like one big blur of ink?” One day, it occurred to me that other people might not be as enamored as we were with my hilarious rendering of our family’s achievements. So, we made a change. The cards now have two parts. First, on the front of the card, is a current photograph of the family so that people can see how ridiculously attractive our offspring have become and simultaneously, how ridiculously unattractive my bald head has become. And second is a succinct family “letter” that must fit on the back of the card. The reason for the card, we discovered, was not so much to impress but to simply to let people know we were thinking of them during the holidays and to give them a brief update on our lives. Sometimes, I suspect, we do things that, in time, may no longer make sense. But we’ve embraced the routines for so long, we have a hard time letting go. Once we do let go, however, we might realize that we had our focus on the wrong reason. Here’s another example. We recently went to a party and contributed some of the appetizers. But there was so much food, the appetizers were hardly touched. You should know that my wife and I have a deep-seated fear of running out of food whenever we entertain. In fact, at the first Super Bowl party we ever hosted, we had five pizzas left over. Not a total of five pizzas but five pizzas left over. I remember a comedy routine by Jim Gaffigan during which he said, “Can you imagine explaining appetizers to someone in a third world country? It would be like saying, ‘Oh yeah this is our meal before our meal'.” Maybe we don’t need so much food. Maybe we don’t need to eat so much. Maybe we don’t need to worry about running out. The reason for sharing food is to experience the communal activity of breaking bread together. We don’t need to break our backs trying to carry all the food on our plate. And finally, we probably ought to consider the reason for all the gifts we buy. We fight the traffic, scramble for the very last parking space, and then disappear into the over-crowded mall trying to find gifts for all the people on our list when many of them probably don’t even need the things we’re buying for them. As I mentioned before, I couldn’t wait to get all the free stuff at Christmas when I was a child. But as an adult, I feel that I have plenty of stuff already. I don’t want to sound like a curmudgeon. But I think it could be valuable for us, during the holiday and then throughout the year, to be clear about why we do what we do. Are we doing something because we feel it’s expected of us or because it’s the right thing to do? Are we focusing on excess when moderation would be just as appropriate? And are we comparing our actions to others instead of being comfortable with our own decisions? The bottom line for the holidays is this: What is the reason for our approach to the season? Whether we’re writing, cooking, or shopping, if we’re clear on our purpose and can be comfortable with a little less than a little more, perhaps the season will be more meaningful and less hectic. That sounds reason-able to me. How about you? Happy Holidays. Looking for your next healthcare speaker? Get in touch with us at the Capitol City Speakers Bureau today to make your healthcare event a success! By Ron Culberson. With a master’s degree in social work, Ron Culberson spent the first part of his career working in a large hospice organization as a clinical social worker, middle manager, and senior leader. As a speaker, humorist, and author of "Do it Well. Make it Fun.The Key to Success in Life, Death, and Almost Everything in Between", he has delivered more than 1,000 presentations to associations, government agencies, non-profit organizations, and corporations. His mission is to change the workplace culture so that organizations are more productive and staff are more content. He was also the 2012-2013 president of the National Speakers Association and is a recognized expert on the benefits of humor and laughter.
My wife says I’m sometimes grumpy. My nephews say I’m not as fun as I used to be. My friend Michael says I’m just a bitter old man. Maybe I have gotten a bit cynical. Truth be told, though, I really don’t have a reason to be cynical. I think I typically get that way when I focus on the wrong things—my “don’t haves” instead of my “do haves.” When life gets busy or we encounter stress, it’s easy to focus on the things that are going poorly rather that all of the things that are going well. So for those times when we want to have a pity party for ourselves, consider these alternatives… If you’re feeling old, be thankful that you’re still getting old (things get bad fast when you stop getting old). If you have aches and pains, be thankful that you can have pains without having to be one. If you have a crummy job, be thankful that you have a job—and that you could probably find another job if you didn’t do such a good job complaining about your crummy job. If you get too many emails, be thankful that you’re so popular…and that you have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to inherit money from Nigerian royalty which could be used to purchase a mortgage, drugs from Canada, or anatomical enhancements. If your children are a challenge, be thankful for time out—because the longer you stay in time out, the less you have to deal with them. If your clothes fit more snugly than they used to, be thankful that the tightness is not nearly as problematic as the style of your clothes which, by the way, went out of date in the 90’s. If you’re losing your hair, be thankful that balding men are sexy, virile, handsome and much more appealing to women than those girly men with wavy mousse-filled follicles (not that I’m sensitive about this). If you have relationship problems, it’s probably your fault. Be thankful that you now know this and can change how you relate to others. If you’re unhappy with the government, be thankful that you live in a country where you’re free to be unhappy with the government. If you never get the parking spot near the mall door, be thankful for the exercise you get while walking from the far end of the parking lot (also see “If your clothes fit more snugly” above). If you’re a bad driver, be thankful that you’re not alone since everyone but me seems to be a bad driver. If you’re having financial problems, be thankful that you don’t owe Tony Soprano money and that 16% interest on your MasterCard account is better than getting whacked. If your spouse watches too much TV, be thankful that you have a TV and that he or she is contentedly occupied and not bugging you instead. If you have a clunker of a car, be thankful that you don’t have to worry about fender benders, door dings, and bird crap. If you find yourself struggling with the meaning of life, be thankful that even though you’re apparently not smart enough to figure it out, everyone else also struggles with the meaning of life and you’re just self-assured enough to admit it. If you have trouble being thankful, be thankful for the many reality TV stars who prove time and time again that there are lots of people worse off than you. Now, don’t you feel better? Happy Thanksgiving. Looking for your next healthcare speaker? Get in touch with us at the Capitol City Speakers Bureau today to make your healthcare event a success! By Ron Culberson. With a master’s degree in social work, Ron Culberson spent the first part of his career working in a large hospice organization as a clinical social worker, middle manager, and senior leader. As a speaker, humorist, and author of "Do it Well. Make it Fun.The Key to Success in Life, Death, and Almost Everything in Between", he has delivered more than 1,000 presentations to associations, government agencies, non-profit organizations, and corporations. His mission is to change the workplace culture so that organizations are more productive and staff are more content. He was also the 2012-2013 president of the National Speakers Association and is a recognized expert on the benefits of humor and laughter.
I recently got demoted by United Airlines. Well, that’s not exactly true. They didn’t really demote me. I just didn’t fly as much last year so my frequent flyer status is lower. In the big scheme of things, this is not a big deal. It’s not a serious illness; it’s not a car accident; it’s not a popcorn kernel that cracks an expensive dental crown. It’s just that I had gotten a bit spoiled by the free upgrades, the free food, and the free drinks. Even though the change in my airline status is not that significant, I still tend to pine about it just a touch. But maybe there is another way to embrace this experience. Recently, I was reading M Train by Patti Smith and was captivated by the way she travels through life. She recognizes her existence as a meaningful journey and not some obligatory trip from Point A to Point B. She has this way of seeing the poignancy in every experience and then sharing her insights through creative writing and artistic expressions. Patti’s work routine is pretty simple. She reads, she observes, she feels, and then she creates. And when all of these elements come together, it’s magic. In one essay, she describes the closing of her favorite coffee shop. Prior to that she had brilliantly described her many visits to the cafe and commented on the location of her usual table, the feel of her chair, the taste of the coffee, and the interactions she had with her server. Patti sensed how each of these encounters affected her in that particular space rather than overlooking their interconnected significance. For fifty-seven years, I have been an “anticipator.” I tend to always anticipate the next event. At 10:00 a.m., I’m thinking about lunch. At the airport, I’m thinking about my destination. At Thanksgiving, I’m thinking about Christmas. Perhaps this is why I’ve been so intrigued by mindfulness over the past couple of years. Mindfulness is about being present in the current moment and not about anticipating the next experience. In fact, by always anticipating what’s next, I may have been cheated out of my 10:00 a.m.’s, my airports, and my Thanksgivings. Patti Smith seems to remain tenderly focused on the present. Oh, I’m sure she has moments of longing for things to be different, especially when she remembers a loved one who has died or embarks on a trip that doesn’t go as planned. But she does not sacrifice the particular moment for the memory or the mishap. Instead, she integrates the whole of the experience and makes the moment even richer. I suspect most of us like to avoid the less-than-positive experiences. For instance, we love the soothing sensation of a hot shower after working hard in the yard but we’re not so keen about the shock of a cold shower when the water heater is broken. Yet, both are rich, sensory-filled experiences nonetheless. Recently, I attended a retreat in Costa Rica where it was easy to stay in the moment when I was surrounded by the beauty of the rain forest. It’s almost impossible to ignore spider monkeys and toucans in the tops of the trees. However, a few weeks later when I was at the United gate waiting in the Group Two line because I had lost my Group One status, I quickly resorted to being an anticipator again. I worried that the Group One people would fill up the overhead space. I longed to be upgraded to First Class where I’d get a free drink, a filling snack, and a comfortable seat. And when I saw that I was thirty-seventh on the upgrade list, I feared that I would be hungry and uncomfortable after being offered a measly cup of water, five tiny pretzels, and an elbow in my rib from the oversized person in the undersized middle seat…in Coach. And then, I landed, so to speak, on the most common anticipation of all—I just longed to get home. In hindsight, I wonder what I missed when my mind was full of anticipations. Perhaps there was someone in line next to me whose conversation would have enriched my travel experience. Or maybe I would have seen a funny sign that I could have shared with readers on my blog. Or perhaps I could have spent some of the time standing in line simply being grateful for the many people, places, and things I get to encounter because I have a pretty darn good existence. The richness of truly being is the ability to realize and embrace the interconnectedness of who we are in a world full of people, places, and things—all of which are also connected to us and each other. It requires that we shut off the anticipatory noise in our mind and allow our eyes, ears, and hearts to do the work they were designed to do. Patti Smith does this brilliantly and she shares her own sense of being with us through her music, her writing, and her art. Sometimes I secretly want to be Patti Smith. And then I realize that the only way I can be remotely similar to her is to open my own senses to everything around me. And then, I won’t really need to anticipate anymore because I’ll already be exactly where I should be. Looking for your next healthcare speaker? Get in touch with us at the Capitol City Speakers Bureau today to make your healthcare event a success! By Ron Culberson. With a master’s degree in social work, Ron Culberson spent the first part of his career working in a large hospice organization as a clinical social worker, middle manager, and senior leader. As a speaker, humorist, and author of "Do it Well. Make it Fun.The Key to Success in Life, Death, and Almost Everything in Between", he has delivered more than 1,000 presentations to associations, government agencies, non-profit organizations, and corporations. His mission is to change the workplace culture so that organizations are more productive and staff are more content. He was also the 2012-2013 president of the National Speakers Association and is a recognized expert on the benefits of humor and laughter.
The C&O Restaurant in Charlottesville, VA is a very special place for my wife and me. Back in 1982, when I was in college, I had more hair but less money. I took my then girlfriend Wendy to the C&O Restaurant for Valentine’s Day. We had a wonderful evening but the meal set me back about sixty dollars and I had to borrow cash from my parents before the check I wrote hit my bank account. Eventually, I was able to pay my parents back and a few years later, despite my lack of financial resources, Wendy married me anyway. More recently, after living near Washington, DC for almost thirty years, we moved back to the Charlottesville area and were delighted to see that the C&O Restaurant was still there. It has since become our go-to restaurant for anniversaries and special events. And luckily, I no longer have to borrow money to eat there. Wendy pays. Anyway, everything we have ordered off the menu at the C&O Restaurant is outstanding. But, when it comes to dessert, there is only one choice—the Sticky Toffee Pudding. It is hands down the best dessert I’ve ever eaten. I’m not sure what’s in it but I’m pretty confident that it has butter, sugar, more butter, and a bit of flour and eggs to hold all the butter together. Every time we get it, we simply melt into a confectionary nirvana. But then, a few minutes later, it’s all gone and the magical moment ends. This is a fact of life. Things are impermanent. But we can still embrace all that we experience so that our lives are enriched along the way. I grew up in Emory, VA, a town that was home to Emory & Henry College, Addison’s Drug Store, and a tiny post office where the Postmaster sometimes read your mail. Our next-door neighbors were Ed and Gini Bingham, a lovely couple who intrigued me with their homemade bread-making skills and the fact that they used honey in their tea instead of white sugar like the rest of us southerners. Ed was a professor at the college, and for the second half of her life, Gini was a potter. You see, when their daughter Kathy was twenty-five, she died in a hiking accident. It was an overwhelming tragedy and for several years after the accident, Gini was so distraught, she said, “I couldn’t go a minute without thinking about it.” As Gini began to emerge form her grief, she felt the need to find an activity to help occupy her mind. So, she studied the craft of pottery, built a kiln in her back yard, and became an exquisite potter. I remember visiting her pottery studio on a regular basis when I was a kid. I’d sit nearby and watch as Gini created bowls, vases, and mugs from spinning lumps of clay. She made some of the most beautiful and unusual pottery I’ve ever seen. In 1986, when Wendy and I got married, a number of my hometown neighbors gave us pieces of Gini’s pottery as wedding gifts. And then, whenever we went back home to visit my parents, we’d stop by her studio to see the newest items she had created. I think we bought at least one piece every time we were there and she’d almost always throw in something for free like a leaf-shaped trivet or an odd looking experimental serving dish. As a result, we collected quite an assortment of “Gini pottery” over the years. Unfortunately, Gini died of cancer several years ago. So, our current collection of soap dispensers, baking dishes, and coffee mugs are the last pieces of her pottery we will ever have. There was a time when we didn’t want to use the pottery for fear that we would break it. We imagined that we could lose it all and be permanently disconnected from our special relationship with Gini. Then, one day, it occurred to me that if we didn’t use any of it, those beautiful mugs and dishes would just sit in the cabinet and never give us any joy. So, now we use everything. And occasionally, we do break a vase or a coffee mug. And when we do, we appropriately feel the loss but we also appreciate the time we had to enjoy it. In the world of mindfulness, there is a valuable principle called impermanence. Basically it reminds us that nothing in our earthly environment lasts forever—not people, not pets, not pottery, not even our time on this planet. Everything physical comes to an end at some point and by recognizing this fact, perhaps we can embrace and appreciate the time we do have in our world more fully. You see, we have a tendency to cling. We cling to people, experiences, and material possessions. And when we cling, the act of clinging can become more important than the joy that these people, experiences, and possessions bring us. As a result of the clinging, we can develop fears and anxiety related to the ultimate loss of these things. In the book, Living with the Empty Chair, Roberta Temes discusses the experience of losing a loved one. She says, “When you no longer fear it or revere it, but can simply accept it, you will know that you are completing your grief work.” I think this is how it works. When we accept each moment, each possession, each person but do not cling to them nor obsess about the fear losing them, we are truly being present in the moment and can wholeheartedly embrace the gift that the relationship to these events, things, and people brings. Wendy and I really enjoy our Sticky Toffee Pudding. Our morning coffee tastes a little bit better when we drink it from one of Gini’s pottery mugs. Our friends and family are always a joy to us. And while we understand that one day each of these things will no longer be here, we have been blessed by them all along the way. This is the principle of impermanence and the way we balance it is to live fully every single day. Looking for your next healthcare speaker? Get in touch with us at the Capitol City Speakers Bureau today to make your healthcare event a success! By Ron Culberson. With a master’s degree in social work, Ron Culberson spent the first part of his career working in a large hospice organization as a clinical social worker, middle manager, and senior leader. As a speaker, humorist, and author of "Do it Well. Make it Fun.The Key to Success in Life, Death, and Almost Everything in Between", he has delivered more than 1,000 presentations to associations, government agencies, non-profit organizations, and corporations. His mission is to change the workplace culture so that organizations are more productive and staff are more content. He was also the 2012-2013 president of the National Speakers Association and is a recognized expert on the benefits of humor and laughter.
For years, I’ve bragged about turning a social disability of talking too much into a lucrative career as a professional speaker. My loquaciousness (that’s “blabbing” for you non-talkers) works well for my job but can be a challenge for my wife who has spent the last thirty-one years becoming a professional listener. Thankfully, she rarely rolls her eyes. To this point, I’m reading a book called Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain. In the book, she describes how introverts function in a world that seems to put a greater value on being an extrovert. It’s a wonderful read and I related to it in some surprising ways. You see, most people would describe me as an extrovert since I’m very comfortable in front of a crowd—as suggested by my career. I also enter new situations relatively comfortably, I hold my own in most conversations, and I am quite charming to boot (Note: this is a personal opinion that may not be shared by others). But, here’s the interesting thing: I’m also an introvert. I value my quiet time. Reading is a fun activity for me. And working alone in the yard is like therapy. Plus I don’t mind being alone with my charming self to boot. So, I’m comfortable being with people and I’m comfortable being apart from them. The term for this is ambivert. While it sounds like a flexible vegetable, it perfectly describes my conflicted personalty. Here’s how it works: I’m energized when I’m around people and as a result, I tend to go into performance mode. I talk, I tell stories, I share jokes, and I connect with others. But I get a bit overwhelmed if I’m around people for too long or when I have to mingle with new acquaintances for an extended period of time. Ironically, that’s what I do for my job—I travel all over the country speaking at events and interacting with people I don’t know. Go figure. But here’s how the ambivert plays out. When I’m onstage, I’m talking in front of people and that fires up the extrovert/performer in me. However, it eventually drains me, and I don’t have much extrovert left to interact during the meals, the receptions, and the book signings. My challenge is managing my ambivert-ed-ness by balancing the need for human connection with a counter need for being alone. If I get drained, I have a tough time functioning. However, if I find ways to recharge, I handle both situations much better. In the book Quiet, Cain shares a number of different research studies that suggest most work environments don’t understand that people may need time alone to be their most productive. There are meetings, brainstorming sessions, and open work spaces which all work against an introvert’s desire for a quiet place to be creative. And ironically, the extroverts don’t function much better either because they spend their time talking and interacting without getting enough done. The organizations that recognize the need for quiet space and interactive space can change the work environment so that they are both introvert- and extrovert-friendly. Because, everyone doesn’t work or function the same way. For instance, a friend of mine, who is an introvert, can withstand a group situation for a few hours and then he completely shuts down. Once we were having dinner with a dozen other people and towards the end of the meal, he simply stood up and said, “I’m done. Goodnight.” We all laughed because we understood his introverted-ness had had enough. He needs quiet time during his day to balance the people time. Similarly, another friend is not comfortable being alone. She needs to be with other people or she gets a bit stir crazy. So, she’s always planning the next event where she’ll be able to hang out with friends or family. She loves an environment where there are work groups and brainstorming sessions. The key to managing the introvert and/or the extrovert in us is to recognize which way we lean and to make sure we recharge the right part of us. Here are some tips:
Looking for your next healthcare speaker? Get in touch with us at the Capitol City Speakers Bureau today to make your healthcare event a success! By Ron Culberson. With a master’s degree in social work, Ron Culberson spent the first part of his career working in a large hospice organization as a clinical social worker, middle manager, and senior leader. As a speaker, humorist, and author of "Do it Well. Make it Fun.The Key to Success in Life, Death, and Almost Everything in Between", he has delivered more than 1,000 presentations to associations, government agencies, non-profit organizations, and corporations. His mission is to change the workplace culture so that organizations are more productive and staff are more content. He was also the 2012-2013 president of the National Speakers Association and is a recognized expert on the benefits of humor and laughter.
I made an interesting discovery the other day. It turns out that I have a fairly noticeable birthmark on the back of my head, and I only just discovered it…at 57 years of age. Geez. Last week, I was trimming the ever-decreasing band of hair around my head. Oh, and yes, I do my own hair maintenance—partly because there’s not that much to deal with and partly because I would have to pay the same price as full-head-o-hair people if I went to a barber. Seems like the cost would be prorated based on the percentage of scalp that’s showing. But alas, the system is fairer for the favorably follicle’d folks. Since I do cut my own hair, I invested in a set of clippers a few years ago. However, these clippers had worn out so I bought a new set with a full array of blade guards. They work beautifully—that is, if you pick the right blade guard. The first time I used the clippers, I chose the 3 mm blade guard because I thought that’s what I had used with my previous set. Unfortunately, I made a math error. I had transposed the numbers. With my old clippers, I had used the #3 blade guard but the length was actually 6 mm, not 3 mm. You might think I’m splitting hairs here but essentially, I cut my hair to half the length that I was accustomed to. As a result, my hair was really short. I mean, really short. It was so short, I could see my scalp through the tiny bristles of hair. And that’s when I discovered a red birthmark right there on the back of my head. At first, I thought it was a mirage caused by light reflecting off a few reddish-brown hairs. But my wife confirmed that it was actually a birthmark. Apparently, I’ve been walking around with this Gorbachev thing on my scalp for five decades and nobody bothered to point it out. I was disturbed mainly, or “manely” as it were, because my head was discolored and I didn’t realize it. To be honest, I don’t look at the back of my head that often. And, my eyesight is not as good as it used to be. Plus, the distance from my eyes to my head when using a mirror is greater than the actual distance due to some sort of convex reflection formula that involves fractions and variables. So, I just didn’t see what was there. It reminded me of an experience I had in high school when a girl who was several years younger than me said, “I’ve never seen anyone without a butt before.” Yep. She said that. To my face. I immediately ran into the boys locker room and looked at the back side of my, uh, back side. It appeared to be OK. Perhaps my derrière wasn’t as robust as that of a bodybuilder or a swimsuit model, but I clearly had one. Between that high school experience and the recent uncovering of my birthmark, I realized that I didn’t notice these things because I wasn’t looking in their particular direction. I mean, I’m usually focused on what’s in front of me rather than on what’s behind me. Aren’t we all? For instance, think about how much time we spend taking care of our fronts. We brush our teeth, attend to our blemishes, apply makeup, adjust the hairs that are out of place, and pluck the hairs that shouldn’t be there. Then, when it comes to our attire, we iron our blouses, we polish our shoes, we fuss over a spot on our slacks, and we continually adjust our ties. But how often are we doing the same things with our back sides? Heck, my pants are a wrinkled mess from sitting all day and I don’t even care. It all boils down to the influence of what we see. The things that usually make us anxious are the things we’re looking at. The more we look at them, the more anxious we get. And the things that are out of sight are often not even on our minds. Have you ever spilled something on a white shirt? The rest of the day, all you can see when you look in the mirror is that dang stain on your shirt. Yet, when you get a spot on the back of your pants, you often don’t think about it until you start to put them on again a couple of weeks later—because you were not looking at them. This is the power of the mind and how it creates our reality by what it “sees.” In Hamlet, William Shakespeare wrote, “..for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” The seeing leads to thinking which drives how we experience the world. Here’s another example: Let’s say you go to the doctor and she performs a test that might result in getting some bad news. From the time of the test until you get the results, you most likely will be anxious because you fear the worst case scenario. The reality is that you don’t know what the results will be. So, it doesn’t help to focus on the possibility of only the bad news. Similarly, if you go to the doctor because of a strange-looking mole on your back and the doctor tells you that it’s normal and there’s nothing to worry about, you probably don’t give it a second thought once you leave the doctor’s office. This is how our minds are hardwired. We lean toward the worst case scenario as a way to protect us from external threats. That worked really well when we were cavemen and cavewomen but not so well today. The external threats are not as frequent nor as dangerous. So what does this all mean? Well, Pope John XXIII put it this way, “See everything, overlook a great deal.” It means that if we can walk around all day oblivious to the gum on the back of our pants, perhaps we can purposely be more oblivious to other potentially stressful events in our lives. It’s about balance. We probably need to focus less on our fronts and maybe a little more on our backs. But either way, we don’t need to obsess about what we see because that only leads to too much thinking and more anxiety. So, basically, whether it’s the birthmark, the receding hairline, or the overabundance of scalp, I’ll never get a-head in this world if that’s all I see. Haha. Looking for your next healthcare speaker? Get in touch with us at the Capitol City Speakers Bureau today to make your healthcare event a success! By Ron Culberson. With a master’s degree in social work, Ron Culberson spent the first part of his career working in a large hospice organization as a clinical social worker, middle manager, and senior leader. As a speaker, humorist, and author of "Do it Well. Make it Fun.The Key to Success in Life, Death, and Almost Everything in Between", he has delivered more than 1,000 presentations to associations, government agencies, non-profit organizations, and corporations. His mission is to change the workplace culture so that organizations are more productive and staff are more content. He was also the 2012-2013 president of the National Speakers Association and is a recognized expert on the benefits of humor and laughter.
My family went out to dinner one night and the service was really slow. After a long wait, our server brought the burgers and fries but did not bring any ketchup. When we asked for some ketchup, the server said she would bring it right out. Ten minutes later we still didn’t have any ketchup. I don’t know how long it takes you to eat but for me, ten minutes is about eight minutes longer than I need. I eat fast. Coincidentally, I also walk fast, talk fast, hurry fast…well…you get the picture. In addition to not getting any ketchup, the food was lukewarm. So the longer we waited, the less appetizing our already-cold-sans-ketchup meal became. When the server finally returned, my wife said, “Unfortunately, our food was not hot when it arrived. And we didn’t get the ketchup.” The server said, “Well, we’re doing the best we can. It’s very busy.” And then she walked away. Do you ever have those moments in life when you want to stand up and deliver a ten-minute soliloquy on good customer service? No? Well, maybe that’s just me and my professional speaker world. And for the record, I held my tongue and did not say, “Well, you’re way behind and you really need to ketch-up.” But here’s the thing. The main concern I had with our server’s behavior was not so much what she did but how she did it. Oh sure, we were frustrated by the slow service and the lack of ketchup but her response compounded the problem significantly. The better approach would have been to apologize, to offer to replace our cold food, and to take responsibility for not remembering the dang ketchup. But when the server discounted our problem and blamed it on being busy, the implication was that her busy-ness took precedent over our need for a quality dining experience. The how of what we do is not always obvious to us because we’re too busy doing the what. Our days are so cram packed, we typically just want to get stuff done rather than pay attention to how we’re getting stuff done. I suggest, though, that the how is just as important as the what, and when we consider both, we’re much more effective in everything we do. Let’s walk through a few ideas for how we can apply this concept... Take Responsibility. First and foremost, we must take responsibility for our role in any situation or relationship. When we blame other people or the system, we are not operating with integrity and we’ll be less successful in our endeavors. In our restaurant experience, the server blamed the situation for our lack of satisfaction. By saying that they were doing the best that they could, she made it sound as if they were unable to do any better. However, if she had owned the situation, we might have become her ally and tried to make things easier on her. And even if she couldn’t control the chaos of the evening, by simply acknowledging what she was doing to improve things for us, she would have added a bit of integrity to her efforts. Empathy. One of the best techniques for successfully maneuvering through this world is to show empathy for others. When we understand where others are coming from, we put ourselves in their shoes. And when we do that, we’re much more likely to approach them and the situation with more compassion. For instance, if our server had more empathy for us, she would have realized that we were not happy with the slow service or the fact that our food was cold. But instead of empathizing with us, she was more concerned with herself and responded in a self-protective manner by defending her own behavior. Word Choice. Lastly, once we take responsibility and have empathy for others, our choice of words has a big impact on how we interact with others. In my experience, I have seen a number of leaders undermine their good ideas because they didn’t use the right words to share those ideas. And when we use the wrong words, we can sometimes create more problems than we solve. Imagine how we would have felt if our server had said this: “I’m so sorry that your food is cold. I can understand your frustration. This is not the kind of experience we want our customers to have. I want to fix this for you so that you leave our restaurant happy and satisfied.” I think we would have reacted differently. But somewhere along the way, she was probably told that she should not admit that there is a problem or else people will demand a refund or make a complaint to the manager. Ironically when service personnel acknowledge the problem, most customers are more understanding. I truly do empathize with restaurant staff and anyone else who has to deal with the public. It’s a tough job and people are not always polite. However, if we just understand the value of taking responsibility for the situation, showing a little empathy, and then using the right words, we will be more successful in how we handle most challenges. So, the rule to remember is this: Pay as much attention to the how as you do to the what. Oh, and BYOK (Bring Your Own Ketchup). Looking for your next healthcare speaker? Get in touch with us at the Capitol City Speakers Bureau today to make your healthcare event a success! |
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