Love Y’all !!

I recently had the joy of attending and speaking at the SHRM North Carolina State HR Conference. State conferences are always amazing. The environment is smaller in scale, and it’s easy to get around. They’re intimate enough that you can go to sessions and not feel like you’re in a cavernous hall where you can get lost. Another wonderful facet of these conferences is that you get to see the cultures of different parts of the country. Each one is unique. It’s so great to experience.

The folks in North Carolina were instantly welcoming. I knew a small handful of the volunteer leaders before I arrived, but the majority of the attendees were new to me. Every time I get to meet new HR peers, I’m energized. Seriously. I have always had a desire to connect with and get to know as many HR practitioners as I can. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this. My hope is that they learn they have someone who does what they do and values how challenging the field can be.

It only took moments to start meeting new people. After I connected with Christine, the program chair, the connections started to occur. She introduced me to committee members, the AV lead where I was going to speak, and other attendees as we walked around the conference center. I was definitely in my element. A recent plus to participating in these events is that my wife, Debbie, travels with me. She is getting used to the constant stream of new faces and names. I appreciate her support because this is a stretch for her. She’d much rather hang with a few people instead of being surrounded by hundreds of strangers.

After we got our bearings on where to go, we went to the exhibit hall, which is an absolute playground for me. I relish the chance to talk with the people at their booths to find out what they do while I also shop their tschotskes. You never know when you can find a new addition to my table of toys for my presentations. Too often, the people running the booths are ignored, or their primary contact with attendees is to check off a bingo card with little to no interaction. To me, it’s an opportunity to have a conversation and learn whether I end up using their services or not.

During these shows, vendors have giveaways. A volunteer leader is given the task of calling out winners while everyone is moving to and fro. No one really is paying much attention because they’re either at a booth, looking for food and drink, or talking to other attendees. Pam, the leader of the exhibit hall, was the announcer, doing her best to make announcements and give out prizes. She was wonderful. What really captured me was how she closed each time she took the microphone. She said, “Remember, I love y’all !!”

I was tickled by this. I know that it may be a common phrase used in the South, but I don’t get to hear it in Ohio. Everyone responded with a friendly smile to this term of endearment. It was perfect, and it wasn’t out of place at all. It was great to see that everyone in the hall felt this was normal for someone to say.

It made me wonder why we have steered clear of expressing love to others in the workplace. It’s concerning how we have sterilized the work environment so much that any hint of emotion tends to put people on edge instead of bringing them together. What we don’t see is that we’re dehumanizing our cultures because we’re so fearful that any emotion that is shared will be taken the wrong way. That’s sad.

I’m aware that there need to be boundaries. That’s a given. What we’ve done, though, is make workplaces lifeless, stagnant, and barren. How’s that going? With more and more technology keeping people isolated and behind screens, what types of places are we incrementally moving toward? It’s not something I think is sustainable.

People want to know they’re loved and cared for. It’s inherent in how we were created. To be seen, heard, valued, and known should be the baseline for every company’s culture and the basis for HR practice. The fact that we keep diminishing this should make us all wake up and change what’s happening. I feel that emotions are not only okay, but they’re needed.

When Debbie and I were getting ready to leave the conference and explore the amazing city of Wilmington, we saw Pam along with others. As we were walking down the hall, she shouted, “Hey, Steve and Debbie !! Love y’all !!” It was sheer perfection.

Hard to Breathe

This past week, I was able to check off two things from my life bucket list – speak at the SHRM Colorado State Conference and visit the great State of Colorado !! I had never visited Colorado and had only heard good things. That doesn’t adequately describe how spectacular it is. Everywhere you look, the landscape is stunning. Everywhere.

If you’ve never seen the Rocky Mountains in person, make sure you do. I’ve had friends describe them to me, but to see them yourself is an entirely different experience. My wife and I drove from the airport straight up (or at least it felt like that). When you leave the airport, you’re already a mile above sea level. After our 2-hour trek up the mountains, we were over 10,000 feet above sea level. At first, you don’t notice much. It’s beautiful, sunny, and not humid. You walk from the parking lot over to the hotel, which is only about a 2-minute walk, and then it hits you. You’re completely out of breath. Completely.

So, even though you’re surrounded by indescribable beauty, you are gasping for air. We knew the altitude would be something we’d need to acclimate to, but we didn’t know it would hit us immediately. In addition to being breathless, we both became light-headed and slightly nauseous. This was unnerving. We were experiencing altitude sickness. Evidently, our rapid ascent from Cincinnati, Ohio (720 feet above sea level) to Keystone, Colorado (over 10,000 feet above sea level) was something our bodies weren’t ready to respond to.

The folks at the hotel and at the conference were very understanding. They knew what was happening and reassured us that it would pass. They recommended that we move slowly, take several breaks, and drink tons of water. Once we felt we had drunk enough, drink more. The first day and night seemed to negate their sound advice. However, day two showed promise. I gave my presentation and shared our experience with the attendees. They nodded in agreement and were empathetic. I made it through my hour on stage, but had to pause twice to catch my breath.

By day three, we were getting used to our environment and were able to slowly get our breath back. We felt almost normal. We were still taking breaks, but not as often. This allowed us to enjoy our visit more, and we took time to see attractions like the Red Rocks Amphitheatre and to tour the State Capitol. I was even able to climb the stairs to the top of the dome !! In a few short days, the extreme change we faced was starting to be less of a challenge.

Our experience made me think about organizations. So often, they try to implement massive changes and initiatives all at once. The rapid movement takes everyone’s breath away. No one is sure how to respond. Most employees lack context, while senior management is filled with excitement. They don’t understand why others seem stunned when they expected people to be on board with little to no questioning.

Large-scale initiatives give companies a burst of energy, but they’re rarely sustainable. Companies want to take a mountain and don’t realize that the change in altitude will adversely affect everyone who joins in too quickly. Change is good, and change is inevitable. Great changes, however, are successful when they’re done incrementally over time. This type of movement is just like the advice we received. Slow down, move intentionally, just breathe. This helps people adjust to changes in a way that makes them part of their regular work experience.

We should learn from this. I wish companies would learn to scale the mountains slowly and purposefully on an ongoing basis. The peak will still be there. You don’t have to attempt to conquer them all at once. We have moved away from mass initiatives at the company where I work, and we’ve seen significant improvement by intentionally being incremental in our movements. Change occurs and is sustained.

We had a phenomenal time in Colorado once we learned how to accept the change we were faced with. The conference was amazing because of the wonderful people we met. All we needed to do to enjoy every aspect of our trip was to slow down and just breathe.

The Gift of Service

This weekend, my wife and I went out to get some ice cream after dinner at home. This is a fairly regular occurrence because we enjoy going to local ice cream places. You’d think that people would be more likely to be in a jovial mood when you know you’re going to soon be savoring a frozen treat. That’s what you’d think . . .

We actually hit a bump in the road when we first arrived at one of our local ice cream places because someone forgot their wallet. (Not naming names.) This meant heading back home, getting my wallet, and heading back to where we just were. In the scope of life, this could either be seen as an inconvenience or something that ruins the entire experience. We saw it as an inconvenience. Sure, it slowed us from getting our ice cream treat, but how much did it really throw off our day? We pulled into the parking lot and headed to the window to order. The line was small, but we also saw a large group of people who were milling around waiting for their orders. One of the workers leaned out the window and calmly stated, “I’m sorry several of you are waiting for your orders, but our system went down, and the tickets aren’t printing. Can I get your orders again?” She was pleasant and provided context and a solution to the problem. So, you’d expect people to respond kindly.

Not so much.

“We’ve been waiting here 30 minutes !! I can’t believe you lost our orders !!” was the first response. Several others huffed noticeably as if everything was out of sorts. You could tell the guests were extremely frustrated. At the same time, the group of teenagers staffing the ice cream stand was concerned and anxious, knowing people were going to lose their minds . . . again. My wife and I sensed too much tension, so we decided to go to another ice cream place. We were hoping for a better outcome.

Not so much.

At the next store, we were standing in line, and the guest at the counter was asking question after question, assuring the young lady trying to help her that she was being wronged. She was arguing about prices, the lack of availability of certain menu items, and why her coupons on her phone couldn’t be used how she wanted them to be used. The worker asked if she’d like to talk to her manager, and the quick response was, “I guess !! I don’t know why this is so hard !!” My wife and I were waiting patiently for our chance to order. The manager came out to try and address the situation, and the guest ignored him. He asked if he could assist her, and she was flustered and confused as to who he was. I wanted to lean in to let her know that he was the manager. He shrugged and went back into the kitchen. She finally turned back to us and said, “I guess you two should go !!” with a tone of exasperation.

My wife and I ordered easily. We paid for our ice cream, and I said, “Thanks for helping us.” She smiled. It was as if she was grateful for someone to appreciate what she did. It didn’t take a superhuman effort to say “Thanks,” but you could tell our response was an exception for the experience she regularly received.

She’s not alone. The kids at the first ice cream stand and the staff at the second one have service-oriented jobs. Their entire role is designed to take care of others. Guests ignore this. I know this is a generalized statement, but give me a moment to explain. Every person on this planet has “life” going on. Every person. When you go somewhere to get service from someone else, what you’re facing or going through doesn’t dissipate. That doesn’t give you the right to unload on those who are trying to serve you. It just doesn’t.

They’re trying to do their best. Yes, they will make mistakes (just like you do). Yes, they will have technology fail (just like it happens to you). And they have life stuff they’re working through themselves (just like you). The people serving you are people – and you’re a people too. We need to remember this. It’s astonishing to me how so many people spend hours and hours complaining about service while ignoring that they are blessed to be in a position to even do things like go out to eat, stay at a hotel, receive medical care, or have someone help them during a crisis situation.

How much different would the world look if we acknowledged and recognized those who give us the gift of service? If people would pause, breathe, and then thank someone for all they do, we’d see the good in others instead of the errors made. When someone stumbles, if we showed patience and grace instead of lashing out and losing our temper over something that is truly minor, we’d be thankful for what we’re receiving.

When I started as an HR pro for a restaurant chain 20 years ago, my peers all bemoaned how difficult and challenging it would be. The service industry is thankless, they said. They were wrong. It’s the best industry I’ve ever had the pleasure to work in. I am privileged to work alongside those who serve for a living. I see how people treat them while they’re trying to make sure you have a great experience. I am in awe of how resilient and forgiving they are even when they hear complaint after complaint.

This week, do me a favor and reset your approach to life. I make sure to thank everyone who is in a service role every time I interact with them. Every. Time. No exceptions. This is true even if my experience hasn’t been the greatest. It takes no effort to be someone who gives encouragement. Doing this sets a different tone for folks. Someone knowing they’re seen, heard, and valued for providing a service is a difference maker. Be someone who knows that you’re a recipient of the gift of service. It matters. Let’s do it and change the world !!

What’s Your Origin Story ??

I’m a big fan of the superhero movie genre !! I’ve seen most of them during my lifetime. The constant flow of them recently brings out the HR Nerd in me. Whether they’re an Oscar-worthy movie or not, I watch them. I love a great origin story when you find out how the superhero gained his/her powers. I was an avid comic book reader when I was younger as well. Every time I read panel after panel, I would find myself engrossed in the story that continued to unfold throughout the book.

Origin stories usually involve some quirky situation, accident, or supernatural experience that transforms someone from being an average person to someone given unique gifts. Once they realize they have these new powers, there’s a phase when they’re not sure how to utilize them. There’s an experimentation effort so they can harness their abilities. This takes time. It includes successes and failures along the way.

I’ve mentioned before that I’ve only been a human resources professional for my entire career. I chose to be in HR. My start in the field isn’t very dramatic. I was a failing student in college as I pursued a science- and math-based profession. My mother saw I was struggling, and she stated the obvious, which I was blind to. She told me to be in a field where I was able to work with and impact people. It’s what I had always done up to that point in time. It wasn’t glamorous or life-changing . . . or so I assumed.

Fast forward 19 years into my career after graduating from Ohio University . . .

I had been in HR and had five different HR roles during that time. Then, out of the blue, I received a call from an HR peer. It was a typical day. Nothing significant was going on. I was fulfilled and content in my job and was nearing my 10th anniversary with the firm. Here’s what transpired:

“Hey, Steve. How are you doing?”

“Hi, Sandi. I’m great. And you?”

“Doing great. I wanted to reach out to let you know that I gave your name to someone who is looking for an HR Director. You’ll know the company for sure. I told him you could help him find some candidates to consider.”

This wasn’t an uncommon thing for me to do. I replied, “I’d be glad to help if I can. What’s the company’s name?”

“It’s LaRosa’s,” she stated calmly. I was stunned. “That’s odd,” I questioned. “Isn’t that where Donna works?” Sandi came back with, “Well, she did. However, she left a few months ago. Now they’re looking for someone new. You should consider it. I think you’d be a great fit there.”

I thanked her and told her I’d follow through with her request. Later that day, I received an email from the COO of LaRosa’s. He mentioned Sandi’s name and asked if I could send him some resumes of people I’d recommend. I told him that I’d be glad to pull some together and would send them over by the end of the day. I did send him about seven resumes of peers I knew who were looking that I had gathered at the HR Roundtable I facilitated. The following day, I was unsettled. I hadn’t sent my own resume over to be considered. I was content where I was . . . sort of. The company was changing, and leadership was about to transition to people that I wasn’t very confident in. So, I took a moment to compose a new email and sent my resume to LaRosa’s.

Kevin, the COO, responded right away and asked if I could come in for an interview. Later that week, I was sitting in a booth in their anchor restaurant across from him. We engaged in a very comfortable conversation, and he asked how I approached HR. This was easy for me to express. I told him that I felt HR should be available for every employee. He then asked the most unique question. “Do you know why we’re sitting in a restaurant booth for this interview?” he asked. I replied, “I assume this is where interviews occur at the pizzeria.”

He nodded his head and followed up with, “How would you feel about going out and being in our pizzerias?” I laughed and then stated, “Do I even need a desk? I’d rather be out with the people than sitting in an office if that would be okay with you.” He smiled and then set up a 2nd interview for me. I met with several other people a week later for a series of interviews. The following Monday, I received a call from Kevin and a job offer. I was ecstatic. This company was an iconic tradition in Cincinnati. I was eager to jump in.

After giving a tearful two-week notice to my boss at the consulting firm, I joined LaRosa’s. Kevin and I went to lunch my first day and sat in the same booth where we had met. As we were talking and I was learning, he shared something very poignant with me.

“You know what, Steve? Sandi, the person who contacted you, was interviewing for the role we just hired you for,” Kevin stated. “What ??” I asked, perplexed. “It’s true. She was the choice of our CEO. He really wanted her,” he shared. I sat there quietly. “Do you know why she didn’t get the role?” Kevin followed up. “I have no idea,” I replied. “Remember that question I asked you about being out in the pizzerias?”

“Sure, I remember. It seemed like a logical question to me,” I shared. “That wasn’t her comfort zone. She wanted to do HR from her desk,” Kevin retorted. “I don’t fault her. I appreciate her honesty. I was looking for someone who would be comfortable out in the stores.”

“That’s amazing,” I stated. “One more thing,” Kevin added. “She recommended you.” I sat there stunned. My friend was interviewing for the role for which she recommended me !! To put this into context, I’ll be celebrating my 20th anniversary this November at LaRosa’s. Sandi was my origin story.

I have never liked that so many in HR say they fell into the field or found themselves in human resources by accident. That implies that it was almost a career mistake. How awful is that? You don’t hear anyone else say they fell into sales or ended up in operations by some fluke. I am proud to have been an HR practitioner for 40 years . . . ON PURPOSE !!

What’s your origin story in HR? How did you get the opportunity to be in the best profession I know? What happened to position you in the only field that has an opportunity to impact the lives of every company employee?

I hope you embrace who you are as an HR pro. Be the superhero of your company by making people-first practices your superpower. Shed your secret identity, and step into who you are, or can be, intentionally. Own what you do because it matters.

Story postlude:

A few years ago, I was able to go to a gathering of senior HR folks. It was Sandi’s last week at the job she took instead of LaRosa’s. She was retiring. I bought pizza for her and the group to celebrate and thank her. I wouldn’t have had the career I have without her. I shed some tears, thanked and hugged her. I shared that she was my origin story. It was perfection.

Let Someone Know

I grew up in a house brimming with encouragement. My parents did this with ease. Sure, my brother and I received a word of correction or discipline every so often. However, it was because of our behavior each time. It wasn’t because my parents were on some unfounded rant of anger. Looking back on how fortunate we were to be raised in this way brings me to something I’d like to share with you.

My dad grew up on a farm. He was a hard worker his entire life. He would regale us with stories of how he and his twin brother were out taking care of the livestock and working in the fields when they were toddlers. We knew he was exaggerating, but when you saw how he worked as an adult, you had to wonder if some of those tales contained nuggets of truth. My mother also grew up on a farm where she was expected to pitch in and work. She did more traditional tasks within the house with her sisters while her two brothers were out in the fields handling the more physical tasks.

Even though they were both intentional, dedicated workers in their professional careers, one thing that distinguished them was how they would always express their devotion for one another. I can’t recall a single day when my dad didn’t embrace my mom warmly, give her a kiss, and say, “I love you. Always” before he headed off to work. Not once. It didn’t matter if he had a challenging day ahead of him or if he wasn’t feeling in the best of moods. He followed this pattern like clockwork. My brother and I would make faces of disgust as teenagers should while also admiring our dad’s open expression.

In addition to this daily ritual, both of our parents made sure to regularly praise my brother and me out loud during family dinners for any accomplishment we had attained. It didn’t matter if it was personal, academic, musical, or athletic. Each conversation was filled with genuine interest and encouragement. We were never pressed too harshly or told we were failing when that happened. You knew they were always in your corner. After I graduated from high school, I’d call back on our landline (a pre-cell phone world) to check in. My mom would inevitably answer, and she made sure that my dad picked up another phone so both of them could talk to me at the same time. The same support I had experienced each night at dinner began seamlessly to be shared again, even though I was miles and hours away.

This same pattern continued after college and through my adult life. When I got married, my wife started to be included in this circle of verbal encouragement the moment she met them. This was true when we had kids. They were bathed in words of affirmation, joy, love, and laughter. My brother and his family also experienced their ongoing affection, reassurance, and optimism. Our dad passed away in 2020, and our mom hasn’t missed a beat. She texts each grandchild every Tuesday with a word of encouragement. Every. Tuesday. They’re all adults themselves with careers and expanding families of their own.

I make sure to call my mom, now using my cell phone, at least weekly. She starts every conversation with, “Tell me what’s happening.” She wants to know what’s going on in my life first. I also check on her, but I never get the first pass to ask her about her life in the metropolis of Ada, Ohio. Once I do, she tells me about all of the people she’s encountered. Each one of them drips with the encouragement she has given them naturally. After every call, my bucket is filled once again just because we took the time to chat.

I was struck by the approach my parents modeled today. You see, we live in a world where encouragement is the exception rather than the rule. Most people go through their days not knowing, feeling, or experiencing anything other than discouragement, despair, anger, or frustration. People don’t hear words of affirmation or encouragement. We are all bombarded by countless waves of divisiveness that attempt to get us to dig in, take sides, and then berate anyone who dares to disagree with us.

I’ve never accepted this approach to life or others. Yes, I experience stress, disappointment, and angst. There are even rare times when these factors swallow me, which results in a blue funk that I’m not proud of. I try my best not to fall into that trap, but it happens. What gets me through is a mix of my faith and the knowledge that I can let others know I believe in them. Modeling the behavior my parents modeled for me is how I choose to live each day, even if I fall.

I make sure to embrace my wife and tell her I love her before heading to work. I do my best to encourage all those I encounter throughout my day, regardless of how busy or full I am. I’ll drop people a note, share a song of the day, or give them a call just to check in. I’m sharing these examples only to note this – Let people know how much they matter and that you’re thinking about them. Do this on purpose and out loud.

My wife and I are fans of the TV show Resident Alien. In one episode, the main character, Harry Vanderspiegle states, “A human lifespan can last 85 years, or more, if they are lucky. It may seem long to humans, but when compared to the age of planet Earth, a human life would only be 141 seconds long.” Our time here isn’t as long as we think.

Be the person who breaks through the noise. Be the person who is showing a more positive way to approach life and others. Be the one who refuses to live life negatively. Your words could pull them out of a dark place at the perfect time. They’ll never know unless you’re proactive. Use your words. Lift others up. Let them know !!

The Art of Reaching Out

Have you gone through dry seasons in life ?? No matter what you try, things still seem disconnected and distant. Any effort you make to break free from this funk just seems to pull you in deeper and deeper. I know I’m not alone in this. Not by a long shot !!

Quick disclaimer . . . I’m not in one of those seasons (right now), but what happened over the last week because of several interactions compelled me to write about this.

You see, I’ve had MANY folks reach out to me this week. More than normal. I’ve always been a person who seeks and enjoys connecting with people. It doesn’t really matter what the circumstance or setting is. I just love having rich conversations with other humans. If you are in the midst of a challenge, I’m interested. If you are contemplating how to move forward in the midst of change, I’m interested. If you’re burned out and feel at the end of your rope, I’m interested. If life is full, joyous, and exuberant, I’m interested.

Not kidding. I believe in the art of reaching out. I hold true to this so much that I’ll keep reaching out even if you don’t respond right away. People today feel more isolated and alone than any other time I can remember. That’s ironic because we have the ability to be more connected than at any other point in the history of humanity. I find that the majority of digital connection is one-sided. It doesn’t have to be, but that’s how we’ve chosen to use the platforms. They’re far more built on proclamations instead of interactions.

The conversations I’ve had over the past week with people have been emotional, raw, deep . . . and needed. You could see people’s shoulders relax and drop before a word was ever spoken. Just to have someone sit across the table and know they were going to be heard was enough. They knew that I was going to be present and attentive, which is all they really wanted . . . from someone. I say that because they shared how they had reached out to others, and no one offered up a chance to talk. Their lives were too busy at the moment, or at least that’s what they shared.

I had conversations about challenging life situations, people who are considering changing jobs, and fun stories about recent adventures someone had taken. Each one of them took time. It was time well spent whether the conversation took ten minutes or an hour and a half. You see, the only true thing I have on this planet to offer others is my time. Yes, I can share advice or opinions, although they may not be what the other person is seeking. The thing others desire most from us is our time.

Please note – this isn’t specifically about HR (although I think the same practice should be how we all approach HR); it’s about genuinely embracing others. Acknowledging that we need each other – all the time. I’m grateful for each person who reached out to me to chat. It’s been magnificent. I reached out to others as well.

I can’t encourage you enough to develop this skill. It matters more than you know. You may never see the full impact of the time you intentionally took. That’s not the point. It’s about others. It always has been !! This week, start practicing the art of reaching out. It may be just the thing that someone needed (including yourself !!)

Capture Your Thoughts

I don’t know about you, but I am easily distracted. It doesn’t take much either. I start each day with the best intentions to stay on track, but it’s a matter of moments when something pulls me in a direction I didn’t intend. Part of this constant shifting is because it’s how I’m wired. I have always been someone who is enamored by a multitude of stimuli striking at the same time. I’ve always been comfortable living like this. It is my “normal.”

This doesn’t include the external items that get my attention. Social media, streaming programming, and a multitude of conversations at home, work, and online. Not one of them is the same. Each one demands time and a splintered focus. Add to this the reality that not one of them follows a predictable pattern. You may think one conversation will only happen for a few minutes of your day. Then, when you finish it, you see that an hour has flown by. You hadn’t intended for that to be the case, but it happened. The other person(s) involved may have even entered into the conversation with their own timeframe planned out without even asking you.

I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t say that I follow a playbook or a certain cadence when these distractions hit. I tend to be reactionary. Each person who needs your time and attention treats the item(s) they would like to discuss as THE priority of the day, at least for them. In fact, if you choose not to engage with them for viable reasons and ask for a moment to get something accomplished, just so you can see at least one thing marked off your list, you may ruin their day. Literally. If nothing else, they’ll tell you it did.

Please understand that I’m sharing the example of a regular day, not as a complaint, but as the reality of every person I know. What I described above is not unique to me. I find it to be how we each try to move throughout our days. We live in a fragmented world filled with an endless number of distractions. Now, on top of this, add in your personal thoughts. I don’t know about you, but I have thousands of thoughts that run through my mind on a regular basis. They’re yet another distraction.

Image from Sébestian Dubois of DeveloPassion – https://www.dsebastien.net/you-need-a-fourth-place-a-place-to-think/

The difference is that I choose to capture my thoughts. With all that is constantly swirling around me, I find that if I don’t capture my thoughts, then I may miss an idea that may truly change how work is done. What’s challenging about capturing your thoughts is that everyone tries to share their method with you as an exclusive approach, which should never be deviated from. If you’re a To-Do list person, then everyone else should be. It works for you, so it must automatically work for others !!

My prior boss used to write his TWIB notes (referencing This Week in Baseball) in a notebook that he carried around with him. In one of our check-in meetings, he gave me a notebook and told me I needed to follow his lead. It didn’t work. It’s a lesson we all need to learn from. Yes, you should have a method to capture your thoughts. However, it needs to be YOUR method, and not others. Your thoughts are unique. Therefore, your method to keep track of them should be as well.

I choose to use multiple notebooks, all with different themes. I affix stickers to the notebooks so I remember what theme, or set of ideas, lies within their pages. I also use multiple flip charts positioned all over my office. Each page includes several colors, doodles, and random notes. Add to this that I write a weekly newsletter, a weekly (mostly) blog, and I’ve written some books. Thoughts keep pouring out regardless of this multifaceted attempt to catch everything.

The key to remember is to take the time to jot down your great ideas in the midst of the whirlwind of the world of distractions we live in. Who knows? You may capture one thing that makes a significant difference for you personally or professionally. Find your method. Start grabbing those snippets that come to mind. It will help you find a way to move easily through all of the distractions that pull you in infinite directions.

Take a Picture

I’m decompressing a week after my annual trek to the SHRM National Conference. It’s been something that I’ve been attending every year since 2013. There are many reasons I enjoy the event, but the essential reason I feel fulfilled going each year is the people. I relish the opportunity to be surrounded by thousands of my HR peers. Not kidding. It’s a wonderful feeling to meet and talk with those who I share a career. I mean that. Being around other HR professionals on purpose is encouraging because there’s always a sentiment that people want to connect.

Now, I know that most people at the conference don’t want to meet all of the attendees as I do. I understand that. It can be overwhelming to always have people moving in and around you. You are rarely alone. I think that’s why you’ll see many people finding a nook here or there just to pause and breathe. Some are making sure to catch up on work, while many just want a break from the sea of humans.

Another facet of the Annual Conference is that I’ve been fortunate to be a speaker since 2014. That fact alone is humbling because I never want to take it for granted. Being able to take the stage to lift my peers up and let them know that the work they do matters is something I relish. There are far too many people who still do their best to tear down the profession of HR. That continues to astonish me !! You don’t hear this same criticism for any other industry.

Because of this pressure, real or assumed, people keep trying to redefine HR. I don’t think that’s needed. Human resources has been, and always will be, about people. I’m not talking about this as if people are separate from business. That has never been true either. Business happens because of and through its people. We keep trying to create a new approach or reason for existence. It’s exhausting and doesn’t keep us focused. In fact, we’re more distracted today than ever.

This year, a simple reminder helped me remain grounded in believing the best in people. Since I’ve been at this for some time, I have been able to meet, see, and reconnect with people over the years. We greet each other with joy, smiles, and usually a hug. What is a bit odd is how many people want to take their picture with me. At each session where I present, and even while walking through the conference, people will stop me to ask if they can take a picture.

I always say yes because it is honestly humbling that someone would want to have a picture with me. There are many times when people tell me that it’s a tradition to do this every year they come to the conference. This year, a dear friend whom I met back in 2017 was able to return to SHRM. Her name is Noah Mithrush. She wrote me before we were all in Orlando and asked if she could make sure to see me and say, “Hi.” “Of course !!,” I replied. “It would be great to see you again.”

After my first session, she waited until the crowd dissipated and came to see me. She had my book that she wanted to sign since the last time she attended a SHRM Conference. I was touched that she would bring it with her just for my signature. She told me wonderful news about her engagement, and then shared something so meaningful.

“I was floored by the line of people who wanted to meet you and take a picture before you spoke. It just kept going and going.” I looked at my feet. “I know, it’s quite something, isn’t it? I never get used to it. So grateful people would like to capture this moment and memory.”

And that’s it. People long for human connection – especially HR pros. They want to have a memory for each moment that meant something to them personally. We take more pictures today than at any time in history. Our phones are filled with them. It’s a good thing.

What are we doing to be memorable in the lives of others? Is our interaction picture worthy? What if it was?

You see, we need to be mindful that every encounter with others leaves an impression. Every. One. That is why I try my best to have every interaction be one that leaves a positive impression. I’m sure there are times when I stumble, but I do my best to make that an exception.

So, if people are kind enough to ask for my picture, I will gladly take a moment to do so. I will remember them as much as they remember me. By the way, here is my picture with Noah . . .

Sweet Emotions !!

The alarm goes off, and a classic rock song wakes me abruptly from a DEEP sleep at 5:00 a.m. I stumble into the bathroom to shower and get ready in the dark. I make sure to be fully dressed because as I leave my bedroom, a four-legged ball of fury speeds past me. He pinned me against the wall at the top of the stairs, and then looked at me with fierce anticipation as I slowly took the stairs one at a time. I grabbed his leash and knew I had 20 minutes to take him on his morning constitutional. He was so eager to get outside and pull me down our cul-de-sac. He, of course, stopped every 2.5 feet to smell and take in every inch of his walk. He didn’t want to miss a thing.

After he obliged me on his walk, I took Wags back in and got ready to jump in my car to “really” start my day. His countenance dropped, and he seemed forlorn that I was leaving for the day without him. I decided to grab a cup of coffee at Cavu Coffee on my way to my Men’s Group. It’s a weekly ritual for me, but this one was special because my best friend’s celebration of life was later that afternoon. Hannah greeted me and thanked me for including her in my blog a few weeks earlier. She was touched and humbled. As I grabbed my large, steaming cup of Ethiopian brew, my cell phone rang. The leader of our small group was calling. That’s usually never a good sign because it’s so early in the morning.

I braced myself and then answered. I was right. He shared some tough news about someone we knew. He wanted to keep me in the loop. I told him I appreciated the heads-up. After the group, I headed into work. By 7:30 a.m., the emotional roller coaster I experienced had taken several unexpected twists and turns. Landing at the office only opened up a whole new plethora of emotions flying at me. There were conversations of encouragement, frustration, greeting, anxiety, and uncertainty. I hadn’t even been able to get all of my lava lamps, music, and laptop set up yet. This wasn’t unusual. In fact, it was the norm, and I loved it.

It was tough to keep focused throughout the day, because in the back of my mind, I knew that grief was about to land like an anvil when I left to get ready for Fred’s celebration of life. I headed home a bit early to brace myself when I was introduced to a new person – Addie. One of Melanie’s college friends, and one of our adopted daughters, Samantha, stopped by for a visit. When Addie started to fuss, I stopped working and asked Sam to give her to me because I had the touch to put her to sleep. After a few minutes of rocking Addie gently and rubbing her back, she nestled into my neck. She was out. The drool on my shirt was the proof.

It was so great to see Sam and Addie before heading to the funeral home. I was right; the wave of grief slammed into me as we pulled into the parking lot. We had a magnificent time at the celebration, filled with memories, stories, hugs, laughter, and tears. There were so many HR friends who made the trip to remember him and check on me. My emotional tank had been filled, emptied, filled again, and then slowly trickled out. A group of us went out for drinks and dinner. A new wave of emotions was kindled as there was more laughter and fond memories shared. We headed home about 10:00 p.m., and I was spent.

Note – that was just Friday !! I didn’t include how many emotions bombarded me, just the highlights.

My adults were in town for the full week on top of this. They came to the celebration to be supportive, which was so meaningful to me. When they’re home, it’s an endless stream of activity and energy. I’m grateful that they want to still be home with their parents and involve them in a multitude of activities. We are literally on the go constantly. They want to soak in every moment together and want to make sure Debbie and I are included. It is as if you’re at the edge of a beach, and the emotional waves crest and then land on you squarely on your chest. You sputter, gasp for breath, rub the salt from your eyes, and hope there’s a break when the next one is on top of you.

This is reality. I’m not complaining. I’m only trying to show that we are fully human – bursting with a constant change of emotions. It’s like we’re living in the Pixar movie Inside Out. You have to switch from one emotion to the other in a matter of seconds. You may experience so many emotions within a small amount of time that it’s easy to get overwhelmed. We don’t like this ever-shifting mix of ups and downs. We long for harmony and stability. Good luck. You’re with people.

I hear my HR peers, senior managers, and people leaders bemoan the emotional tsunami they face every day from every possible employee. They long for people to be predictable, confined, and level-headed. Small variations are “acceptable” IF the day is going smoothly. This is so unrealistic and an awful way to approach our profession and the workplace in general.

I am a VERY emotional person – just like you. I’ve chosen to embrace who I am and meet people where they are, regardless of how they present themselves or what they’re facing. I don’t freak out, overreact, or tell people things like, “Calm down,” or “It will be okay.” Emotions are natural. It’s how we were designed as humans. I’d have it no other way.

We need to come to terms with the fact that emotions are sweet. They are such a key factor in the makeup of people. Why should we put a damper on that ?? You need to know something – you really can’t.

This week, understand that the mix of sadness, joy, fear, disgust, and anger (to name a few) is going to happen to you and to others. Stop being crushed by the waves. Grab a surfboard and catch each wave to see where it goes.

Sunday morning at 2:30 a.m., another alarm snapped me out of slumber. I was taking our son to the airport for a flight leaving before dawn. As we met in the family room, he saw me and burst into tears. He fell into my arms, and his shoulders heaved as he wept. He knew it was time to fly back to California, but he was also leaving his home. I embraced him and wept as well. I told him everything was okay and that I loved him. I also told him that it was a joy to have him and his sister with us for the past week.

He took a deep sigh, pulled back, and wiped his eyes. “Just needed to get that out, Dad.” I replied, “I know. I think it’s sweet.” (Emotions)

One More Coffee . . .

It happened every week. I’d see his face pop up on my phone screen with his bright countenance and smile. At times, I couldn’t get to his call fast enough. Regardless, I’d hear, “ROOMIE !!! Fred. How’s it going? Good. Hey, let’s get together and have a coffee or an adult beverage. I know you’re busy, but I’d love to see you.”

It was like clockwork. I knew that Fred would always check in with me. We’d try to meet every once in a while when he was still working. Ever since he had retired, we had gotten together more often. I felt bad when I couldn’t meet with him due to work, travel, or other commitments. He always understood and remained undeterred. He knew we’d get together eventually.

Each time we met, we’d cover all of the important topics – faith, family, work, and of course, HR !! He always wanted to hear about my adventures speaking and what was still happening in the field. He’d listen to my stories, and we’d howl with laughter. It didn’t matter that others were seated around us. He would glow with stories about his wife, Karen, his daughters, Heather and Kim, and his grandchildren. He only said encouraging things about them. Also, he intentionally made sure to ask about my wife Debbie and our kids, Melanie and Josh. Always. He never missed it. Ever.

Our regular meeting place was a table for two in the back corner of Cavu Coffee. It’s an independent coffee shop. I dig the vibe and the staff whom I know most by name. I’d always make sure to get there a few minutes before Fred so I could make sure to buy his coffee. I cherished the time I had with him far more than any cost. We’d always order the same thing. I’d get a large black light roast, and he’d get a medium light roast – with room for cream. We’d wait at the counter and then saunter over to our table.

As Fred was ill and trying to recover from his recent back surgery, I told him he had to get better so we could get back and have another coffee. He smiled when I mentioned that and told me he would love to !! Every time I’d visit him, I’d tell him he needed to do what he could to recover because our coffee was waiting. Unfortunately, Fred’s health continued to wane. I went to see him last Sunday after church, and I knew that the inevitable was coming. The next day, Heather texted me and told me I needed to come quickly if I wanted to say goodbye. I left work early to go and sit by the bedside of my best friend.

As I talked to him, I told him about Debbie and the kids one more time. I prayed over him, told him I loved him, and that I was so grateful that he was such an integral part of my life. I told him that he still owed me a coffee. I bent over and kissed him on the forehead. He died on Wednesday. I was, and still am, crushed.

On Friday morning, I was at the door of Cavu Coffee as it opened at 6:00 am. Hannah greeted me as she usually does. I told her that I had a unique request. I wanted to buy two coffees – one large light roast and one medium light roast with room for cream. I went back to the corner table and had one more coffee with Fred.

It wasn’t quite the same, but I wanted to make sure to do this. You see, Fred provided something for me (and so many others) – deep friendship. He was an anchor in my life, and I knew I could count on him. Likewise, I did my best to be an anchor for him in return. My hope was that I would have had years and years to savor our coffees together. However, we aren’t guaranteed the time we hope will be in front of us.

I know there are too many people in my life who don’t have an anchor as I did with Fred. That shouldn’t be the case. With all that life throws at us, you need at least one other person who will ride alongside you no matter what you both face.

I’ve decided that I want to continue being someone who keeps my corner table open and welcomes anyone who’s willing to dive deep and develop a meaningful, truly lifetime relationship. I don’t want to miss anyone. I hope to be Fred for someone else – for years to come. Because, you see, there’s always time for . . . one more coffee.