glass half-full

it was early in the morning. i hadn’t had enough coffee yet. my filters were not fully functional. but when my boss texted me and said i was being pulled into an impromptu meeting between her, a team member, and me, i had to say yes.

i was on a team that worked from home long before the pandemic forced remote work for my entire firm. this small group of warriors had been making things happen from laptops across five different states for over a decade, despite the general belief that work from home was really not “work.” and so, at roughly 8:30 a.m., i was not on the road to the office, but physically and immediately available to hop onto a videoconference call.

as she explained the emergent situation – which was not good – my boss used an analogy that had been frustrating me for months. you see, she considered herself a “glass half-full” person. despite the challenges the team often faced, she constantly communicated optimism and hope for things to be better for us. folks who did not see things optimistically were the “glass half-empty” people, and on this day, she needed a more “balanced” opinion.

i was far from “balanced” about the situation. in my mind, optimism was blindness. how could she be glass-half-full about things? how could she not see the team’s frustrations? i had been simmering in a brew of hopelessness, helplessness, and even a sense of betrayal. and so, my “more balanced opinion” arrived as follows:

“with all due respect, chief, i think you’re not even looking at the right glass.”

did i mention i hadn’t had enough coffee yet?

it did not go over well.

over the course of the next several days, i struggled with ways to recover the conversation with my boss. an apology would not suffice. from my frustrated place, i had used the dreaded analogy to negatively comment on her instead of hitting the pause button first, waiting for the right words to arrive, and commenting on the situation. this would not go away. i needed to try and make things right.

years of coaching and being coached exposed me to the work of psychologist, mediator, author, teacher, and founder of the Center for Nonviolent Communication, Marshall Rosenberg. in his book, Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life, Mr. Rosensberg wrote, “Every message, regardless of form or content, is an expression of a need.” it was this very simple, life-altering statement that, after years of having read it, appeared like a marquee across my forehead about 2 minutes before i was scheduled to chat with my boss again. and i am so glad it did.

armed with the knowledge that my harsh remark was actually an expression of need, i was able to look more closely at what those needs were so that i could express them. in the few minutes it took for my boss to dial into our call, i quickly began to separate the words for my feelings (frustrated, hopeless, helpless) from the source of those feelings (the current situation). by the time we greeted each other, i was able to start to communicate these two separate but related threads, feeling and source, much more clearly. and now, since my language was blame-free, in return, i was actually heard. not only that, i was also able to ask my boss what her need was when she used the analogy, how she felt about the situation at hand, and i was perfectly prepared for any response. why? because i understood that her words were also an expression of need.

i launch my coaching service, light of day, with this story because it’s one that illustrates a pivotal moment in the way i communicate and in the way i listen. i also told this story because i think i’m not alone in those less-than-stellar moments. i know what it’s like to be stuck or say the wrong thing, and fully understand the repercussions. i understand that emotions like frustration, fear, and hopelessness often cloud our language or shut us down. it’s my personal mission and privilege to help change that.

i cannot wait to hear from you, whoever you might be, to begin the work of clearing the clouds with you. i hope to hear from you soon.