Stuck?

...the power of a question

I received a surprise phone call last week. A member of my former Chicago Vistage business group called. He's an enthusiastic guy by nature, but at that moment, he was excited because he believed I could help an old friend.

"I want to connect you with one of the most brilliant people I know," he said. "You can help her."

“Say more,” I said (an old Vistage Chair trick).

He proceeded to tell me about his friend who was in his words, stuck.

He had chastised her that she was like someone watching busses come and go but being too afraid to get on one. Every day, she sits at the bus stop, watching passengers come and go, but is too scared to go anywhere.

Raise your hand if you can relate.

Curious, I Googled her and read her Wikipedia page to Richard:

Richard: “He thinks you can help HER?”

Me: " I know. Right?”

Being a Vistage Chair was an extraordinary honor. We are invited into the lives of very successful people who know they don't have all the answers. They first join a group to improve their bottom line, and then they learn there is a connection between emotional intelligence and business.

Richard, who introduced me to Vistage, describes the chair's role as a cross between Rabbi and bartender. You won't find that language on the Vistage website, however.

What we do is listen. And ask.

A couple of years ago, I ran into an acquaintance from childhood who was astounded to learn I was a coach to CEOs. After I tried to explain what we do, he said, 'What the hell do you know about business?'

And yet, I was a Vistage Chair for 20 years. And because I was in that role for so long, I trust the power of a conversation and a question, knowing it's not my job to have the answers.

I also learned a long time ago not to be intimidated by a resume.

The Zoom call with my former member’s friend opened in her library, and with a fresh new fire in the fireplace she built for our chat. I loved that.

The conversation started with me asking why she thought her friend had recommended we talk. I asked the following questions, which I list here in case they resonate with you:

“What do you think is holding you back?”

“If you knew you could not fail, what would you be doing?”

Once we identified her negative self-talk (which we all have), I shared some of my own. Try writing a column at a desk in the middle of a city-block long newsroom, surrounded by brilliant writers, editors, and reporters. I asked readers to send me their pictures, which I then taped inside my cubicle, so I could focus on them instead of those I found intimidating.

When I was in my early 30s, I shared with her that a friend who was a radio talk show host encouraged me to apply for her job when she left for a bigger market. She saw something in me I hadn't imagined, and it was a new beginning.

The woman on my call this week told me she has many people suggesting she take a particular path, but she was too afraid she’d fail.

So I asked: “What do they know about you that you don't?”

Fear of failure is running in the background all of our lives. Well, maybe not our entire life. We aren't born being afraid of failing. It isn't until we go to school and start getting red check marks on our papers that it begins.

I've also observed that some of the most successful people we all know are victims of their success. They think it was a fluke. The Harvard Business School did a study about what is called the ‘Imposter Syndrome.' Or, “when are people going to find out I’m a fraud?”

They don’t venture out of their comfort zone because they are certain they can’t replicate the success they have.

Understanding the “Imposter Syndrome” is one of the first big ah-ha's our members have when they join a group. They realize they aren't the only ones with the title CEO or president who has massive insecurities in some domain of their life.

We give power to our perceived critics when for the most part, they live in their own pile of crap. Show me a critic, and I'll show you someone afraid to do what others do for fear of being criticized.

Look at fans watching baseball, screaming at a pitcher. When's the last time that screamer threw a pitch at 95 mph? Those who shout loudest don't play.

In my 30s and 40s, I was an experiential learning sponge. The founding trainer of some of those courses is a close friend who subscribes to this column. By yanking me out of a negative spiral, he saved my life.

Everything begins in a conversation, my coach said.

Still, there's no quick fix. We are works in progress.

I hope to stay in touch with my new Zoom pal. She says our conversation was helpful, and she's now making lists and taking action.

I have a group of old friends who ask me questions like the ones I ask others, and they, too, sparked me into action.

Are you stuck? Pick someone - not a family member - to ask you these questions. Or find a quiet place, set a timer, and write whatever comes to mind for the following. There are no wrong answers. Give yourself 10 minutes per question:

• If I knew I could not fail, I would do XYZ

• What is the worst thing that could happen if I did XYZ?

• What is holding me back?

• What if I fail?