What a toddler can teach a boss
I’m finishing my book, so I’m going to do a rerun of something I wrote a couple of years ago that still seems valid. Or maybe I’m just a sucker for any grandkid content.
Uppy
This is the phrase my granddaughter uses when she is afraid. Ruby is 19 months old and doesn’t like loud noises. When the garbage truck rattles by, she runs over to me and says, with some urgency, “Uppy!”
I spend much of my day on video calls as an executive coach and consultant. Because I am besotted with my grandaughter, I find myself watching her learn and thinking about how it is applicable to my work.
One of the themes that comes up for me, my friends, and some of my clients, is how to survive in difficult times. And I realized that what we are talking about comes down to three words Ruby uses often.
Uppy
Understanding when you have an emotional need and then recognizing what you can do for relief is a skill. For Ruby it goes like this: Problem – loud noise. Solution – being held by mom, dad or grandma.
For us adults, the challenge is recognizing what is upsetting us and what actions to take. It sounds simple, but too often we feel discomfort but mistake the cause.
Sometimes we diminish the things we can’t control (pandemic, economic worries, politics) and focus on what we think we can change (a system at work, a personal relationship).
Sometimes it takes a moment to realize that the thing we think we need to change isn’t really the problem. Or that it is a problem but not really the cause of the emotional discomfort. If you find yourself having an emotional reaction that is wildly disproportionate to the actual event, then chances are you are missing the real cause of your discomfort.
Don’t discount the impact that circumstances out of your control have on your emotional well-being and get caught up trying to fix something you can control but don’t need to. And make sure you are going to the right place for reassurance and perspective. Ruby is very selective about who she asks for comfort, and that’s a good call.
Hep
It took Ruby a while to understand that when she was frustrated, she could ask for help. Now she says it all the time. “Hep,” I’ll hear from the kitchen, and come in to find her trying to get a towel back onto the towel rack.
Too often we don’t ask for help, delegate or get things off our plates. Sometimes it’s because as leaders or experts we can do the thing more quickly or efficiently or in what we consider to be the right way. I often to suggest to executives that they focus on the items, tasks and work streams that only they can do and try to delegate the rest. Too often, we work down two or three levels and find we don’t have time for the critical strategic work only we can do or lead.
If you’re not sure if you are skillful about asking for help, look to the people you manage. If the team that reports to you tends to have difficulty asking for help or delegating, that might be a sign that you aren’t modeling that behavior or creating a culture that allows for that.
Mwah
Ruby can’t make the “k” sound. So, when she wants me to kiss a hurt to make it better, she says what she thinks a kiss sounds like. Mwah. She will fall down, get up, run over with her palm out and say “mwah!” And I will kiss her hand.
Do not underestimate the power of straightforward affection or kindness in troubled times. If you need it, go find it. Try to be kind. Ask how people are and listen to their answer, even the ones who appear to be resolutely cheerful. If someone has suffered a blow, if they or someone in their family is sick, or lost a job or business, acknowledge it, name it, and offer whatever genuine assistance you can. I often think when people wave at the end of a video call, it’s a team mwah; a small gesture of comfort, solidarity and kindness. Never underestimate the power of kindness.
The other day Ruby was really scared. She ran over and said “uppy.” I picked her up and she was still scared, and she cast about to find another word for needing comfort and she came out with “mwah,” not for a specific pain, but the general discomfort engendered by the loud construction noises from outside.
There’s a genius in being able to understand when you are hurting, discover the intersection of what you need with what is available to you, and then going to get it.