Feel the Fear…and do it anyway

Posted in Change Management, Guest Blogger | Comments Off

My friend, Elly Haddad, wrote this post earlier this week. It provides an excellent perspective about accepting and moving through the changes in our lives. Since my blog frequently touches on change management, I thought you might find Elly’s insights encouraging.  Please welcome Elly as my first “guest blogger. “  Elly makes her living these days as a holistic health counselor and operates Elemental Fit. If you’d like to learn more about Elly and healthy eating approaches, visit her website at www.elementalfit.com.

By Elly Haddad (republished with permission)

One of the many pieces of valuable information I gleaned from my schooling was the mantra, “Feel the fear and do it anyway”. All of my life I have been The Cautious One. Ride a rollercoaster? Only once, since my fear of heights/falling/premature dying/being crushed and/or mangled, kept me as close to the ground as possible whenever I actually dared to venture into an amusement park (and who REALLY inspects that stuff, anyway???). As a young child, I did not want to learn to drive since the apparent unpredictability of operating a vehicle seemed to leave too much up to “chance” (I got over this fear when I realized that it was not so much a matter of “chance”, but more a matter of not driving in the same manner as a particular close relative with whom I rode frequently . While my cautious (if not sometimes misguided) manner has, at times, served me well (like the time in high school I passed up a hit of acid because it was not hermetically sealed – had been passed from one germy, sweaty hand to another, linty pocket, after linty pocket – if not worse), it has also kept me limited and immobilized in certain areas, and though I began “getting over it” prior, hearing it repeated over and over in different variations this year, I AM over it now.

I began to see a glimmer of hope of being set free when I finally decided that “I AM a flyer”. I was nearly 40 years old and had passed up several opportunities to travel with David to some neat places simply because I could not bring myself to get on an airplane. Physics aside, something THAT heavy could not safely be up in the air…especially if it was carrying MY valuable body. An airplane breaking down carried much steeper consequences than a malfunction of a car engine. It wasn’t until I’d suffered through two excruciating solo 600 mile trips to Nashville and back to visit family that I started to fear breaking down/falling asleep at the wheel/getting attacked at a rest area more than being on an airplane, and I realized that my fear of flying was keeping me locked in a very small, paranoid world. With sweaty hands, I booked a flight and went on a trip. “I AM a flier…I AM a flier…I AM a flier…” I kept telling myself as I went alone to the ticket counter to check in for my flight, snaked my way through a busy security line, and onto the tram headed for my gate. Nervously, I kept tabs on the closest way out, until I became aware of the fact that airports look for nervous-looking travelers because they might be planning on doing something “bad”, so I tried to stay calm and play the part of a bored, seasoned flyer.

I succeeded in getting to my destination and back home, and realized that by confronting this fear of mine, a whole world had opened up to me. Had it not been for that confrontation, I would never have been able to complete my schooling (requiring 10 trips to New York over a six month period) or enjoy countless trips to spend time with those I love. My fear was containing me. Facing my fear made me freer, fuller.

In high school, I never did like going into the cafeteria or bathroom or even down the hall alone (I think some of this is a “girl thing”). This discomfort carried over into adulthood, manifested itself by keeping me from enjoying classes or other new experiences if it meant going alone. What I was actually afraid of happening is unclear, it just felt scary to be in situations alone, therefore, I avoided them. I’ve come to realize that I am over that. I’ve gone to several new classes at my gym all alone, and I actually survived (was I graceful in that cardio-kickboxing class? That’s another story…). I am finding I actually LOVE getting myself into these new situations, because each time I “feel the fear and do it anyway”, a part of me grows freer and fuller than I’d been if I was still content to let my fears control me.

I think it is human nature for us to be cautious and avoid those things that make us least comfortable. There are a select few who actually thrive on the adrenalin-rush of facing fears and surviving them, but for most of us, those things we fear, we avoid. Often, we have no idea what we’re actually passing up. Public speaking? What if we stammer or tremble or mispronounce something? Would it be surprising to know that nearly every public speaker has done just that? Most audiences are forgiving of those things, and I think it’s been a while since anyone’s suffered bodily harm for screwing something like that up. Teaching a class? What if we don’t know every single thing in the world on the subject? The questions that have stumped me during a class or speaking to a group are the things I have later researched and have gotten a pretty firm handle on and I now greatly value – without those experiences, my depth of knowledge in those areas would be much shallower. What about eating a meal at a restaurant alone? That used to be a huge fear for me. I highly recommend giving this a shot as a great “baby step” for getting out of your safety net. What’s the worst thing that can happen? One of my most therapeutic exercises occurred when I was able to travel alone to NYC, stay alone in a hotel, and navigate the city by myself.

It’s interesting to observe younger women, still in that fear mode, and sad to see older ones that are. What are you gaining through being restrained by your fears?Feel the fear and do it anyway. Don’t pass up an opportunity simply because you are afraid that the outcome may not be easy to predict, or you’re afraid you might look less than graceful (now, I am not talking about the instinctual, intuitive fear that tells you not to go into the darkened parking garage alone, at 2 AM, LISTEN TO THAT ONE!… ).

Some people think David and I are daring and crazy (?) to move to a new city amidst all of the other changes going on in our lives. Is it scary? Of course there is some fear when contemplating diving into the unknown. Among many things, 2009 has been a year of unknowns. If, on last New Year’s Eve, I’d been given a list of all the things that I’d be going through this year, I would most likely have said “no thank you” to many of them: “No thank you” to the prospect of a strenuous tax on my marriage that seemed to be without resolution. “No thank you” to quitting my reliable and socially gratifying job at a time when it did not make much financial sense to me. “No thank you” to helping my daughter plan a wedding in just eight short weeks on a shoe-string budget while still in school with the financial and time constraints that it carried. “No thank you” to having to take my youngest kid to college 600 miles away from home just one week after our oldest got married (isn’t that too much “letting go” for one 7 day period?). “No thank you” to the stresses and strains of interacting with a kid who seemed to be their own worst enemy during a critical time in their life. “No thank you” to my husband being less than 20 feet away from a crazed shooter at our fitness club while he played racquetball one evening – and the subsequent stress that confrontation with mortality this encounter carried. “No thank you” to the task of launching our kids confidently into the next phases of their lives during one of such uncertainty concerning our own. BUT, each of these things (and more) have added a richness and depth to me that I could never have gained had I played it safe and rested in the blissful state of unyielding predictability. Change is the most reliable thing that I can count on. Facing fear is what keeps me from getting stiff and ridged. It keeps me flexible.

So, as we prepare for this move to another city, I really am realizing that I am not “brave” or “crazy”, as some have said. I have no idea what to expect from this move: it’s the first time we will have moved based on “us” (and we have moved a lot), and not the kids: schools and fenced yards and game rooms and proximity to potential playmates are not on our radar. Will this be “better” or “worse” than where we are currently? It will be “different”. I don’t know what this move will look like until it’s done. I have no idea what to expect. It’s kind of like jumping off of a high-dive. I am not “brave” or “crazy”: I am feeling the fear and doing it anyway. This is my new “safe”. I am playing it safe – as safe as I can. I am embracing this change – this new chapter – and hanging on for dear life.

Are your customers loyal or lazy?

Posted in Customer Promise, Featured, Strategy | Comments Off

“I don’t know whether I’m loyal, or lazy,” tweeted a friend of mine last week as his eye doctor ran more than 30 minutes behind. He seemed as frustrated with himself for not finding another provider, as he was with his doctor for wasting his time. Granted, there may have been a patient emergency or an unforeseen situation with that caused the delay; yet, others with appointments were expected to endure without being alerted to the problem and given the option to reschedule. While this particular situation is most prevalent with professional appointments, we all know of similar situations that occur in our own businesses and organizations.

Customer loyalty, like friendship, is built on a mutual understanding and acceptance of one another. At minimum, the relationship between the customer and the organization requires:

> Honesty

> Integrity

> Consideration

> Empathy

> Respect

> Humor (maybe not required, but certainly helpful)

While the customer easily gives these qualities, organizations with which they purport to have a relationship often do not reciprocate. From an organization’s perspective, a customer relationship is all too often built only on revenue generated. Specifically, the value of that relationship is measured on the number of purchases made and the size of those purchases. When a customer recognizes that their loyalty is measured only by these factors, such as with supermarket loyalty programs, they become fickle about the relationship. Laziness creeps in and whoever has the best sale prices or is closest to home gains the customer’s favor. When this happens, the relationship becomes a commodity for the customer, as it is already for the organization.

To prevent customer laziness, organizations need to think of customers more as friends, than as dollar signs. Put yourself in your customers’ shoes and ask yourself the same questions you might ask about your friendships, for example:

Do my customers…

1. Feel like they’re “my only customer” whenever we get together?

2. Talk about our relationship in a positive light with their other friends?

3. Tell me when I’ve done something wrong and give me an opportunity to make it right?

4. Share their lives and stories with me because they know I care about them and the relationship?

5. Count on me to deliver whenever they’re in need?

6. Desire to spend more time with me and take every opportunity to do so—wherever I may be?

7. Show passion about our relationship (brand)?

8. Believe that every action I take is in their best interests?

9. Feel that they’re desired?

10. See tangible and long-term value our relationship?

If you can truthfully answer yes to most of these questions, your customer relationships—and long-term customer loyalty—are in good shape. If not, you have some work to do.

Do keep in mind social media tools make it very easy to build and cultivate customer loyalty today. You can connect anywhere at any time and have a meaningful conversation with customers. There’s really no excuse for not putting time and effort into building these relationships. Not doing so will make it easy for the customer to decide if he’s really loyal, or just lazy.

Can you afford lazy customers? No, I didn’t think so.