I've been doing a lot of leadership coaching lately. It's one of my favorite things--important conversations with infuential people, helping them inspire vision, lead change, or solve problems with their staff and organizations. 

I always begin my work my leaders with an assessment, usually by interviewing those who work with and for them. I get the privilege of hearing about strengths and higlights, and I also get to hear about growth areas. I'm always struck by how all of us are strong in some things and weaker in others. The leader who's a strategy whiz might need help being approachable or personable with staff. The leader who has familiar, warm relationships with everyone might not be the best strategist.

Can we be all things to all people? Absolutely not. What's powerful is when leaders are aware of their preferences non-preferences are. The challenge, then, is to begin exercising their non-preferences, noticing those moments and situations that call them to stretch. For the externally-focused CEO, this might mean she clears some time to take staff out to lunch or have unstructured office hours. For the chatty socialite, this might mean he spends time (and maybe gets some help) to focus on strategy.

I think of it as exercising those muscles that don't get much attention normally. On the rare occasion I make it to a yoga class, I'm aware of my muscles in ways I never was before! And reminded of all the amazing ways my body can flex and stretch when I'm intentional.

Leading well means staying fit and pushing yourself, sometimes till it hurts. 

I've had powerful questions on the brain lately, so I often find myself going through the day, looking for them. I've got an example for you.

It's from the mouth of an eight-year old, and I hope it illustrates that powerful questions don't have to be wordy, complicated, or erudite. In fact, they are usually the opposite.

For for my son Wyatt's birthday party, we took him and some of his friends on a hike. One of his friends, Kyle, was lagging behind and didn't seem as engaged as the other kids. I had noticed, but decided to let it play out a bit. Wyatt noticed, too. He looped back from his trailblazing, put his arm around Kyle, and said, "What's up with you?" Turns out, Kyle just wasn't in a hiking sort of mood and told Wyatt that. The result of Wyatt's question was that they both felt more at ease, and Wyatt stopped worrying about whether Kyle felt left out or unhappy.

What if Wyatt had asked, "Are you having a good time?" Not a horrible question, certainly, but close-ended, and giving Kyle much less freedom to really describe what he was feeling. Kyle could have said "Yes" or "No," and Wyatt still wouldn't have gotten any peace of mind about Kyle's behavior.

What if Wyatt had asked, "Why are you lagging behind?" "Why" is tricky--it can get you information, but the information you get is often given in defensiveness. It prompts people to overly explain their actions or motive or suspect you're trying to sleuth around. Often, it doesn't express the care or curiosity that you want to express.

In my work with clients, I often find myself asking a version of Wyatt's question: "What's going on for you right now?" And I get all sorts of revealing answers that explore possibility, uncover frustration, or help us know where to go next. What powerful questions have you noticed lately?

Maybe you remember your mom or dad eagerly asking, "How was school today?" And you probably quipped, "Fine," threw your backpack down, and disappeared. I used to ask the same question to my second-grade son until I decided to start applying some of what I practice in organizations. So now I ask things like, "What happened today that was unusual?" or "What part of the day was your favorite?" Of course, he still rolls his eyes sometimes, but I've had much better luck with more interesting questions. 

 We can't get to the juicy stuff if we don't frame our questions in juicy ways.

I had the chance recently to work with a small design team, crafting questions for a conversation among leaders at a large healthcare organization. I was reminded of how hard it is to frame powerful questions! We worked for 90 minutes to come up with three questions, and even that felt very rushed. Using this amazing article as a guide, the questions had to: 

• Focus on possibility
• Create dialogue and connections
• Catch people where they are--really matter to them
• Be simple and clear
• Generate creative thinking, not problem-solving
• Touch a deep meaning
• "Stick" with participants after the conversation was over

We're using the questions this week. I'll let you know how it goes.

Maybe the most practical thing I've learned around framing questions is the little word "What." You're  on the right track if you can configure a question to begin with What. It's much more open-ended than Why or How and doesn't prompt defensiveness or pat answers. And it's definitely not closed-ended, like Did, Do, Is, or Are. Those prompt just a "yes" or "no" answer, which isn't likely to lead to much discovery.

Goodness. I'm realizing I have a lot more to say on this subject. Can we begin another series? In the meantime, here's a little homework assignment for you (if you're into that sort of thing). Try this on someone close to you--your child, partner, spouse, or friend--someone you check in with regularly. Instead of saying, "How are you?" try a more creative question, and begin with What. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.

These days, there is a lot of talk about "meaningful work." Finding the right or perfect vocation has become a consuming pursuit for many. Career coaches and counselors are ready to charge you lots of money to help you discover the triple treasure of high salary, sense of higher purpose, and the best fit for your skills and personality.

I heard an interview with Mike Rose recently, who writes about intelligence, work, and the American dichotomy between "manual labor" and academia. He has a hard time with the concept of "meaningful work."  Yes, it's important to find meaning and purpose in our work. But isn't a job that puts food on the table meaningful? No matter what your job description is, isn't providing for a family or paying the bills a noble pursuit?

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of interviewing hospital staff.  My favorite interview was with a woman from the housekeeping staff who's been doing her job for 15 years.  She sat across the table from me and said, "I love my job.  I love the patients and watching the nurses do their work.  My opinions count here, and I take so much pride in my work." 

She's a housekeeper for a surgery unit. She empties bedpans, changes sheets, scrubs blood off the floor, and all sorts of other unsavory jobs. At the moment, she's not aspiring to be a nurse or physician's assistant or anesthesiologist. She's aspiring to be the best  housekeeper she can be.

In my job, I get an insider's view into lots of professions--utility workers, nurses and doctors, social workers, 9-1-1 dispatchers, managers of all sorts and stripes, fundraisers, architects, consultants, clerks, customer service specialists.  What sets the best apart is their definition of meaningful work, and it goes something like this:

• I come to work every day and do the best job I can.
• I'm committed to my work and proud of it even when I don't get recognition from others.
• I find the human element in every situation and do my best to connect with it.
• I make mistakes and acknowledge them and have grace for other people's mistakes.
• I'm the one who is ultimately responsible for finding meaning in my work.

Work is such an elemental part of being human.  I hope you are finding meaning in your work, whatever you're doing.

"Design tight and run loose." This is a one-liner that has the potential to save a lot of meetings from disaster, and a maxim I constantly keep in front of me when I'm working with groups.

What does it mean? It means you have a thoughtful, detailed plan, but you hold it loosely.  Still confused? If you're planning and facilitating a meeting, here are some tips:

Set aside time to build a relevant agenda, but be willing to stray from it. Have you ever been part of a meeting where someone says, "Well, we'll have to put that under 'new business.' I can see you are bleeding out over there, but we haven't allotted time for that." 

Plan for eventualities (like conflict or disagreement) without worrying about them. Some of us go into meetings hoping there won't be any surprises (or worried there might be), but without a plan to handle them if there are! This is the "design tight" part. What might surface in this meeting that's hard, uncomfortable, or unforeseen? How will you allow for that--even encourage it? What will you do if there truly is not time to stop and address it?

Train yourself to make realistic guesses about how long agenda items will take. You'll never get this 100% right. This is where facilitation is much more of an art than a science. But you can get better at it by noticing what happens in other meetings you're in and making your own notes while you're a participant or member in meetings.  This will help your "tight design" be closer to accurate, reflecting the reality of the group instead of just your own agenda.

In some ways, it's easier to design tight than to run loose. Anyone can sit down and write down a bunch of times and agenda items on a piece of paper. But it takes practice (and faith!) to be present to the group, managing the interactions according to what's most useful and relevant in the moment. I like the jazz metaphor--you've got to know the score before you improvise. The discipline make the improvisation possible. And the improvisation helps you keep loving the discipline.

Sometimes I ask people, "What's a large group to you?" Some people say "Six people." Others might say, "Over 500 feels big to me." We all have different comfort levels where group size is concerned, and too often meeting facilitators or managers don't acknowledge that.

The tip I'm going to offer today, "Turn and Talk," makes the group feel a little smaller and brings people's best thinking to the surface. 

Before you introduce a topic for discussion (I hope there's discussion happening in your meetings, not just announcements!), give participants a chance to talk in pairs.  Let's say your project team is meeting and you're about to discuss whether or not to push a deadline back. Before jumping in, you can say something like, "Turn to the person next to you and talk to them about how this project is going for you. Do you need more time? What do you think is best for our customer?" Give the pairs 5-10 minutes to talk (depending on the complexity of the question), then bring them back together. You can either let people jump in with what they heard and learned, or you can do something more structured like have participants share with the group what they heard from their partner.

"Turn and Talk" Advantages:

• The comments made in the larger group will be more articulate and more scripted
• Everyone will have had a chance to "warm up," to wrap their brains around the issue
• Conversations will happen that might not have otherwise
• Participants who generally talk a lot will have been forced to listen for a few minutes
• Participants who tend to be quieter will have had more airtime
• You will almost certainly have an easier time making a final decision

P.S. I've been doing some form of this technique for years, but stole this term from my son's kindergarten teacher.  She used "Turn and Talk" to great effect with five-year olds that were reluctant to interact. If it can happen in that kindergarten class, I'm positive you can have some success with it at work!

I'm betting this is a familiar scene to many of you:

You arrive to a meeting at work. People straggle in, and everyone's already feeling like time has been lost by the time you start. There's shuffling papers, maybe some technology problems, people turning off their PDA's (or worse, not turning them off!).

So it would seem like a ridiculous waste of time to spend the beginning of the meeting talking about personal things, right? And, if you ask people how they're doing, you might get a lot more than you bargained for. So the safest route is to dive right into the agenda and get things done.

Don't do it! I have a better way! And it's easy! It's called "check-in." 

"Check-in" is a method to:

• Build context for your meeting
• Give the introverts at least one chance to say something
• Be human with each other
• Actually be MORE productive in your time together

It's not an "icebreaker." And it's most definitely not something that requires people to be uber-transparent, like a most-embarassing-moment story. It goes like this:

• Tell your group you're going to start with a "check-in." If you get groans, ask them to agree to try it for a month and then evaluate.
• Each person gets a chance to say "A word or a sentence about what's up for you today."
• As the facilitator, model brevity. Something like, "I'm happy to be here" or "I had a great weekend with my family." (Notice that people can be as disclosing or non-disclosing as they want.)
• There's no crosstalk allowed--no comments or questions on others' check-in's, just listening.
• Go around the circle, and anyone can pass.
• Start your meeting.

Clearly, this wouldn't be feasible for a 100-person meeting, but I've used it with 40 people and only cut 5 minutes into the agenda.  Spending a few minutes connecting to one another is never a waste of time.  Be brave and try it!

When my kids ask what I do for a living, I tell them I help people get along.

And go to a lot of meetings. Unlike lots of folks, I actually like meetings (partly because they're always in someone else's workplace!).  I find the dynamics fascinating. Edgar Schein, a pioneering voice in studies of organizational culture, says that if you want to understand a particular organizational culture, go to a meeting. Does the meeting start on time? Who talks first? Does it seem like people want to be there? Are people making decisions together or staring at a powerpoint presentation, eyes half-closed?

I'm going to do a little series here on effective and engaging meetings--a few observations and tips that might help you in whatever meeting you're dreading at the moment. 

Here's some basics:

• Meetings are inherently social. A presentation does not equal a meeting! Presentations can certainly be part of a meeting, but don't call everyone together unless you plan to engage them.
• Workplace meetings should have a facilitator. A facilitator is someone who "makes things happen with ease." They're not necessarily the content expert or the person with authority. They're the one who watches out for process.
• Have a plan. Meetings without agendas can be a scary waste of time. You can even build your agenda together at the start of a meeting.
• A participatory, well-run meeting is almost always worth the work. I've had lots of chances to collaborate lately, and am always pleased that what we come up with together is so much better than what I would have done on my own.

 What tips do you have for effective and engaging meetings?

No one I know likes to cry at work. Awful! Everyone sees your vulnerability, you feel out-of-control. Maybe you worry about losing the respect of  your colleagues. And you probably feel just plain stupid.

I've got some practical tips for people in both camps--the criers, and the ones who fall apart when they experience someone else crying.

First, here's my quick take on the phenomenon. As much as we might understand the merits of having good boundaries at work, we can't check our full, human selves at the door. In fact, doing that would make our workplaces less fulfilling and productive. For some of us, this means some tears sneak out from time-to-time. Maybe it was a taboo in the 1950's. It's not anymore.

One of the tricks to being a good leader or co-worker, though, it to maintain a non-anxious presence in times of change. That doesn't mean you never cry, but that you don't let your emotions--anger, sadness, frustration--set the tone for everyone around you. That takes maturity. 

If you're a crier:

• Pre-empt the awkwardness. Make sure your inner circle at work hears something like, "I sometimes cry when I'm feeling things really deeply. I don't want that to bring things to a screeching halt or for everything to be organized around me. It's just how I express myself sometimes."
• Find some strategies. Especially if you're in a position of executive leadership, you might consider some coaching around how your emotions come out at work. This doesn't mean you become wooden, but that you strategize around how to tighten up your boundaries.
• Look deeper. Check in with yourself to make sure that your tears don't point to something else: Are you fundamentally unhappy at work? Are you exhausted? Are you fearful?

 If seeing others cry makes you squirm:

• Resist the urge to fix. Know that someone else's tears do not require a solution from you. 
• Resist the urge to interpret. Recognize that their crying probably doesn't mean the same thing as it might if you were to cry. 
• Give your co-worker time. Let them say what they want to say or feel what they're feeling.
• Later, give your co-worker feedback if appropriate. If this is happening dramatically or too frequently, let them know how it affects you.

The trick is to bring our regulated, authentic selves to the workplace. All of us are a work in progress on this front, I suspect. 

In my other life, I'm a cook. In that life, it's all about my new wok lately. A carbon steel wok costs around $30, and doesn't look like much when you bring it home. It looks pretty flimsy, actually. But then the work begins. The work of "opening" and seasoning your wok until it develops a black patina, a natural nonstick surface that will last for years and get better over time.

I can't help but think of all the metaphors embedded here. One of the prescriptions for seasoning a new wok is that it needs to be used every day on high heat--woks left in the cupboard might rust, and they definitely won't develop the coveted patina.  I've been lucky enough lately to do coaching work with a few folks who are serious about this seasoning business, serious about becoming more mature, about getting out there and making mistakes, using what they know and opening to the world.  

Here are a few things I'm noticing about "seasoned" people and what it's like to be around them:

• They take their work very seriously without taking themselves too seriously.
• They are focused on excellence, even if it means some of their decisions might be unpopular.
• They aren't in danger of rusting from disuse. They're out there--engaging, making mistakes, paying attention.
• They have often experienced deep loss in their lives and grown from it. 
• They don't feel sorry for themselves, but they're not shy about expressing frustration if they need to.
• They are intentional about creative pursuits and outlets in their lives.
• They have a high ratio of questions to statements.
• They take risks and know how to be spontaneous, but they've befriended structure and discipline.
• They are deeply kind.

These aren't the sorts of things you can wake up on Monday morning and do. They say a wok takes 4 or 5 years to become fully seasoned. What?! That seems like forever to this impatient chef. But I have a feeling it's worth it.