Tag: Approach

HR Can Be Cool

On the eve of the college football national championship, I felt I needed to share a story from the first university in the State of Ohio – my alma mater, Ohio University !!

When I was a student at OU, I went all in. I’m not kidding. I went to every sporting event and did every activity in my dorm. I made sure to spend time in the downtown area with my fellow students, and I checked out several groups to get involved with. I was the first person from my hometown to attend OU in many, many years. When I arrived on campus, I had no friends or connections. I went in cold. Instead of fretting about this, I chose to reach out to meet as many other students as I could with the hope of anchoring with at least a few of them.

I was fortunate to be at a dorm that both fit me and my mission. James Hall was an all male freshmen only dorm. The fellow residents were from all over the United States and the world. I was thrown into an instant pool of diversity and it was magnificent. One of the main reasons my transition to college went so smoothly was my Resident Assistant (RA), Bob. I had never met someone who was so chill, calm and cool. Nothing ever seemed to rattle him. He was a junior and had been working in dorms for two years.

Bob treated everyone with respect and allowed most of us to have a pretty wide berth when it came to how he viewed the dorm rules. He felt rules were needed, but he also wanted us to have the full college experience. He knew we were young and were trying to figure out what life was like on our own. I made sure to spend a ton of time with Bob. He kept his door open every night. He welcomed anyone into his room at almost any hour. He never seem put out by any visitor.

As my freshman year progressed, Bob approached me and encouraged me to become an RA myself. He shared with me the pros and cons as he had seen them. He thought I had the makeup to be someone who could be a shepherd for others just like he had been for me. I took him up on his suggestion and applied to become a Resident Assistant. There was a series of interviews and then an excruciating waiting process. There were no cell phones or email back when I entered this gauntlet.

After about a month, I received the good news that I had been chosen to be an RA. That was the first hurdle, and the next one was waiting to see where you’d be assigned. You could put your first, second and third choices on your application but that didn’t guarantee much. I wanted to be like Bob and be an RA in James Hall. I wanted to work with freshmen to help them make the same transitions Bob helped all of us with.

We didn’t hear anything before the school year ended, and the anticipation was awful. Two weeks after going home for the summer break, I received notice that I got my first choice. I was going to be an RA in James Hall. I was ecstatic !! I returned to OU about a month early for training, team building and prep time to get my floor section ready for the next incoming class of freshmen. This time was encouraging, supportive and allowed me to build a network of peers across the university campus.

Once my “guys” came to school for their first year, I was ready to go. I followed Bob’s example and shared my expectations of each of them. I explained the “rules” and closed with the guidance that if you stayed within the parameters, you’d have no problems. If you were blatant in your behavior outside those parameters, I would address it. That was it. Simple. Broad. Effective.

I made sure to make time to meet and get to know the 30 gentlemen in my section. Some of them warmed up to knowing their RA and others wanted to be left alone. It all worked for me. The ones who chose to be closer enjoyed the university, did well in their classes and made other connections fairly easily. Many of the students who wanted to remain distant didn’t make it through their freshman year. That crushed me but their engagement was their choice.

As with any job, you were part of a team. My fellow RAs were an eclectic bunch. Some of them were enjoying their job and others thought it was daunting, miserable and their section was full of awful people. That wasn’t the case. THEY were the ones who struggled and they projected this onto their students. While we were at a staff meeting a few months in, one of the other RAs asked me, “How can you stay so cool all the time?” I didn’t have a great answer. I explained that I wanted to be the person who watched over my section, help students where they needed it, hope they enjoyed being at OU and James Hall, and watch them grow up. Most of them shook their heads in disbelief because they didn’t see how they could follow this approach.

A few weeks passed and then something odd was taped to my dorm room door. It was a comic strip called “The Adventures of Cool Steve.” One of my fellow RAs had drawn it. Everyone wondered how I’d take it, and . . . . I LOVED IT !! Seriously, how could I not? I was humbled and touched. They were very funny. It actually brought my guys together as well as those throughout the dorm. Kevin, the artist RA, kept adding strips on a weekly basis. People waited for the next one to come out.

After several months, he asked the Director of the dorm for permission to make a mural. The strip had become so popular that he sketched it out and painted a mural of Cool Steve on the wall between my room and one of my next door residents. This was bold because dorms are so transient. I was floored by this !! Our sophomore year wrapped up and I asked to be reassigned to my room, section and James Hall for my junior year. The school approved.

My third year in James Hall was even better than the prior two. I became VERY close will all of my residents. Many of this group became lifelong friends. I did make a switch to become an Assistant Director of the Graduate Student dorm my senior year. It was time to move on from James Hall, but the new one I worked in was still close by on West Green. When I was getting ready to graduate, the “kids” from my junior year made sure Cool Steve would go with me.

They knew that my mural would be painted over with the new staff who had no idea who Cool Steve was. So, they took one of the bathroom doors and drew the mural for me. It made it’s way to me when we went out for dinner the last month before graduation. I was moved once again.

(Quick note: The bathrooms in the dorm were being remodeled with new fixtures and doors, so it was okay that my guys had procured mine.)

This great story is now almost 40 years old. As I look back on it, little did I know that the approach from Bob and my time as an RA was actually a training ground for how I’ve practiced HR throughout my career. I learned how to see people for who they were, meet them where they are, and expect the best from them. It is okay to be cool and still practice HR in a meaningful and productive way.

This week, step back and reflect. If someone described your style and approach, what would they say? I recommend you do what you can to make HR cool. It works !!

Meet Me Where I Am

It’s hard to believe that I’m inching closer and closer to two milestones in my career. I’m moving towards my 19th year with my current employer and in a little over a year I will have been in HR for 40 years !! Neither one of these things seems even feasible. I’m not stating these as some foreboding “end of the line” post, far from it. I’m still as geeked and eager to see HR continue to grow and thrive as when I did starting out decades ago. Probably even more so.

There was an HR Chat that was recently rekindled on the new BlueSky platform that is based in the UK. It’s called the “HR Hour” and I love it. It follows a simple format – two questions over one hour. You’d think there’d be giant gaps of silence, but that’s not the case at all. The conversation and dialogue is rich and diverse.

This past week when they kicked things off after a short hiatus, they started with the question – “How has HR changed over the past 25 years?”

I jumped in to share immediately since I had some observations and I also had worked through that entire time period. After the hour of chatting drew to a close, I remembered when I first started in my current role . . .

I work for a regional pizzeria that is truly an iconic institution. We celebrated our 70th anniversary in 2024 which is a rarity in the restaurant industry. We continue to be vibrant, viable, and growing. When I first joined, many of my HR peers pulled me aside and said, “Are you sure? HR in restaurants isn’t easy. There’s a ton of turnover and people stuff that happens.”

I didn’t have any HR peers who also worked in the restaurant industry at that time. I was a bit perplexed that others were more discouraging than encouraging. I hadn’t even started !! I’ve never been a person who feels compelled to go just from others’ opinions. I’d much rather dive in and make my own experiences, and then decide what an environment is/isn’t.

My new boss may have sensed some uncertainty when I started. You see, I was an outlier. The vast majority of the corporate staff had grown up within the company. I was an outside hire which has been the exception rather than the rule for our organization. He gave me an odd set of directions to follow when I began. He said, “I want you to listen to everyone for three months. I don’t want you to bring me ideas or suggestions for change. I just want you to observe and get to know folks at our pizzerias, our manufacturing plant ,and our call center. Make yourself available. That’s all.”

I’ll be honest, this was the most unique approach I had ever had. Even though I was a bit skeptical when I started, he held true to his instructions. We’d check in with each other on a weekly basis, and he’d ask me about who I’d met and what I’d seen so far. Once the three-month timeframe passed, he asked me for my ideas. He started with, “Okay, Steve, now that you’ve been watching, what would you change?”

I responded with a story . . .

I told him that while I visited the pizzerias I saw a change occur over time. When I first started to visit, I’d hear managers and team members say, “Shhh, that’s the HR guy from corporate.” It was disappointing that this was the initial response I received. However, I’m sure it was earned over time. If you know me at all, whenever I’ve received this type of greeting, I jump right in. I don’t let people have this kind of relationship with me or with HR.

I walked into the midst of folks and did something radical . . .

I’d say, “Hi there. My name’s Steve. What’s yours?”

That was it. I didn’t bring up my role, or my title or mention anything that alluded to any sense of “authority.” I just made sure to get around and meet each person. Every. One. After I’d get their name, I’d ask what they did and how long they’d been with LaRosa’s. Then I’d ask about their lives. Some shared and some didn’t. During every encounter, I never talked about my HR role. I’d share stories about my family and would answer any questions I received. I felt it was more important to get to know people for who they were.

My boss concurred with my approach and encouraged me. He liked what I chose to do. I explained that I have always felt more comfortable meeting people where they are vs. where I expected them to be. Each person is unique and comes from a different background and place in life. Acknowledging them for who they are connected me more effectively than trying to establish myself from some corporate position.

It worked and has been working for the past 18+ years. Actually, it’s how I’ve viewed HR since I began. We have a distinct opportunity to value people for who they are by meeting them where they are. It seems simple, and we tend to look for some model or formula that is far more complex in order to interact with people. Those never work and never will.

This week start meeting people where they are. It’s a good place. You’ll find out more than you ever imagined by being the person who’s open, vulnerable, genuine, and accessible first. It works for HR and for people in any environment. Just start with your name and see where it goes from there.

Put Your Apron On !!

My family is made up of an eclectic mix of people who have had a variety of occupations. I come from three families altogether – my mom’s side, my biological dad’s side, and my step-dads side. (My mom remarried my second dad after being widowed.) Many of my relatives were, or are, farmers. They’ve had farms where they worked the land and raised livestock. These farms have been generational, and through their hard work they have fed countless people.

Another portion of my family worked in manufacturing plants or in front-line roles putting in hours in various conditions. They were also responsible for making great products or providing services to many people. Most of my extended family never saw the end users of their efforts. One person stands out, particularly in this family work history – my stepdad, Don.

Dad grew up on a farm and used to tell us that he began work soon after birth. That was probably more truth than fabrication. I know that he worked constantly for his family growing up. He and his twin brother, Ron, were two boys of seven siblings. After high school, he began working at a grain elevator in Ada, Ohio (which would become my hometown later.) He worked his way up over time from shoveling grain and loading trucks to becoming the manager of the elevator. When he married my mom, he was the manager. I don’t know if he ever only worked 40 hours a week. Not kidding. He would put in a full day, come home for dinner, and go back to work.

His work ethic was genuine and natural. He modeled it and expected the same effort and commitment from me and my brother. It didn’t matter if that was in school, our volunteer efforts, or in our jobs. He viewed work as something to cherish and give your best to every day. Sure, I bet there were times when things were a grind. And, I’m sure he also experienced challenging employees and customers. That never swayed him.

While working at the elevator, he put himself through night school to get his Associate’s Degree in Accounting. This led to an accounting role for the local electrical co-op where he worked until he retired. I’ve always appreciated and admired my dad for how he approached work.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago . . .

I was asked to be a guest on a webinar for WorkProud. Their CEO, Michael Levy, and I had a great conversation about the future of work and how to develop a people-first organization. I am grateful anytime I have the chance to contribute to blogs, podcasts, or webinars. I don’t take it for granted. Once the webinar was completed, Michael asked me for my address because he wanted to send me something as a “Thank You.”

Soon there was a package on my porch and I was floored when I opened it !! I saw some weathered green canvas along with some leather. I was confused as to the contents of the package at first. I pulled out the item and began unfolding it. It seemed to unfold over and over. It still wasn’t clear as to what it was until I laid it flat on my kitchen island.

It was an apron !! A work apron. It was magnificent and I took several minutes just to look it over. I ran my hands over the material and it already felt like it had been used. It was as if someone working in a hands-on environment had finished their day’s work and had hung it up on a hook to be ready for the next shift. My wife asked if I was planning on keeping it, and I immediately said, “Absolutely !!”

You see, I think the apron is a solid reminder for everyone in HR to pick up their proverbial apron and put it on as we head into work. We can have the same approach and dedication my dad showed throughout his career with our “aprons” on. We are a profession that rarely sees the outcome of our efforts because we have the privilege of working with people. Each day provides a different circumstance to take on and work through.

Having a put your apron on mentality will keep us grounded as well. It is a tangible reminder that we represent all employees from the front line to the C-suite. Our “work” is in caring for, assisting, and developing others. We can build up our callouses doing this work well. This week I want you to pause before you start. Break up your regular pattern and add a new step. Find your apron. Put it on. Tie it tightly and then head in !!

It’s A Small World

I’m honestly just getting back into the swing of things back home. My wife and I celebrated our 35th wedding anniversary by taking the Grand European River Cruise through Viking. To describe it as spectacular wouldn’t even begin to capture how incredible this experience was. We completely disconnected from our regular work lives and stayed off social media. For two-plus weeks we spent time together and explored the world. We both took enough pictures to last us a lifetime, but we didn’t want to miss any moment.

I was particularly excited about taking this adventure because of the size of the cruise. Unlike the ocean behemoths that dwarf the ports they dock in, a Viking river boat is long, sleek, and has three floors of rooms. There’s a sun deck that runs the length of the boat on the “top” of the vessel. That means this limits the number of people who can sail. Our boat had 180 passengers and 52 crew members. I had a goal to try and meet everyone on the boat and I came pretty close. I wasn’t overt. I didn’t chase people down. In the end, I knew a good portion of the crew and 80+ people who sailed with us. That worked for me and stretched Debbie which she handled seamlessly.

Every day we disembarked for a walking tour with new groups of people. It was a great way to learn about each port city. One of the cities had a star by it – Nuremberg, Germany. The reason for this is that I was born there !! I had not been back since I was six months old. Every city was fantastic in its own way, but I especially enjoyed spending the day in Nuremberg.

The next day, I learned just how small the world truly is. We were venturing through Wurzberg, Germany and someone from the boat said, “Have you met the other person who was born in Nuremberg?” “What ??” I exclaimed. “No, I didn’t know there was anyone else.” We were pausing in front of a very cool modern sculpture when a gentleman came up to me with his hand extended.

“Hi there, I’m Steve. I hear we have a few things in common !!” It turns out we had a ton in common. Steve’s father was in the Army and based in Nuremberg, and so was mine. He was born in the base hospital and stayed in the city for six months before his father was transferred. So did I !! Steve was born in 1960 and I was born in 1964. The whole encounter was surreal.

It was his first time to return to Germany, and it was also mine. When you think of the odds of this chance meeting occurring, it’s staggering. Two men born over sixty years ago happen to be on the same river cruise and get to see their birthplace. It was a joy to meet Steve and his wife, Hilda, who now live in Wisconsin.

During this entire trip, my eyes were opened to how small the world is. On top of meeting the other Steve, Debbie and I were walking through Cologne, Germany, and saw two former neighbors of ours from West Chester, Ohio (where we live) who were also on a Viking river cruise. In fact, their boat was tethered to ours at the dock in Cologne !!

You never know how life is going to present itself. You need to be observant and aware of whatever comes. It was so wonderful to have one great experience after another during this trip. Half a world away paths cross. I shouldn’t be surprised because we all know – it’s a small world after all !!

Set the Tone

This past week was just like most weeks. My wife and I got up early, got ready for the day, and went to work. When we got home we greeted each other and then figured out dinner. One of those days I was able to get home a bit early and I started dinner. I wanted to have things ready for Debbie before she got home herself. Things were almost ready to be served when she arrived.

She greeted me warmly but I didn’t reciprocate. There was no reason for that. She hadn’t done anything other than open the door and say, “Hello.” I was in a dark, somber mood out of nowhere. Nothing had caused it. The dinner was easy to make. There was no reason at all. It just happened. Unknowingly, I had set the tone for the rest of the night. I’m not proud of that but it happened.

Ironically, later that night I was watching a DVD (yes, a real DVD) to get ready to teach as a substitute for a couple’s group we’re in at church. In the video, the speaker shared the most astounding fact. He said, “You set the tone for the night within the first 30 seconds of when you arrive home.” My heart sank. His sage words could not have been more timely. I don’t think it was even 30 seconds before my somberness set the stage.

I share this because we often talk about wellbeing at work. It’s the hot topic at conferences and also in blogs. All of this focus is needed and has been for years. What I don’t see being talked about though is our wellbeing outside of work. We’re all far too busy if we were honest with ourselves. From the moment we wake up, we’re “on.” Our minds start to race and we grab for our phone to see if we missed anything after another night of restless sleep. We convince ourselves that every, single second has to be accounted for, and we can’t afford one wasted moment

We make each situation we encounter monumental whether it is or not. We feel this gives us purpose, drive, and value. There’s rarely any example where we slow down and catch our breath. Then, we head back home after this unending pace. (Note that this same hurriedness is true for those in remote and hybrid roles.) Work is “done” for the day and we return to our lives outside of our regular working hours. We may go back to a spouse, a partner, kids, our pets or just our abode.

Without pausing and winding down somewhat, we’re sure to come in hot. There’s no reason to do this. You can make the time to pause. You can. The question is – Do you want to?

For me, the answer is “Yes.” I started this discipline that day. First, I apologized to my wife for being in a funk. Secondly, I shared this story with our group so they heard a real-world example of what we were learning. Third, I’ve been pausing and making sure to remember that I can set the tone quickly. I want those first 30 seconds to be great from now on.

It’s working and I’m also starting to use this approach to interactions at work. Taking just a moment to break the pace is a simple practice, but it will take discipline. I would rather set the tone versus having people feel they have to react. How about you? Are you willing to set the tone?

Cluttered

Now, I know that even the title of this blog may make some people squirm. I want to challenge that notion if only to offer a different perspective. As I’m writing this post, I am surrounded by a stack of books I intend to read, various notebooks all dedicated to different areas of work, a stack of crumpled flip chart pages, two sets of markers, two tote bags, and two backpacks. I have a playlist with the soundtrack of the alternative Netflix series, The Umbrella Academy, on shuffle and I’m watering our trees to thwart the drought we’re facing. This is normal and comforting . . . for me.

Please note that I’m not touting that my method of approaching life is what others should do. As mentioned earlier, any semblance of this type of manner of walking through life unsettles far more people than those who concur. I have no recollection of ever not having this as my standard style. I don’t want to venture into if my brain is wired in a certain way or another. I don’t feel it’s fair to project or label how anyone moves through their daily lives. When I find people do this, it’s not comparative, it’s judgemental. There’s a right and a wrong.

I believe there just . . . is. That may be far too existential for some. However, when I look at the world and the people around me I see variety, diversity, and uniqueness. I try my best not to squelch or confine anyone else. I don’t particularly agree with how others maneuver through work and life, but only because I know it won’t work for me. If you visited me at my office, you’d see this pattern of being cluttered lived out. To me, it’s a very natural environment that offers endless stimulation and movement. It’s a snapshot of how the world appears in my head daily.

One day a former executive came to my office and was mortified. He looked at everything stacked, teetering and threatening to topple at any moment. His countenance dropped and he was immediately judgemental because my setting ran completely counter to how he did life. That was true of his dress, his communication, and his leadership style. Instead of trying to understand my beautiful mess, he challenged me because he wanted to show me how wrong I was to work like I do.

“This is something,” he retorted.

“Is there something you need or I can help you with?” I replied.

“Do you even know where anything is? I mean (dramatic pause) LOOK at this place !!” he exclaimed. His voice was raised and he started to turn red. I didn’t understand why this was a confrontation, but I remained unphased.

“What would you like me to get? Glad to help you.” I said this with a bit of a twist and a hint of sarcasm and he felt it.

“Well, um, where is the project list we’re working on for the Strategic Plan?” he stammered.

I reached into the middle of a stack while steadying it with my other hand. “This list?” It was exactly what he was asking for. I said, “This isn’t luck or a magic trick. It’s how I think. I know this isn’t how you like to approach work and I respect that. I ask you to do the same.”

Needless to say, he was not happy. I didn’t want that to happen, but I also felt he should be more open-minded to different perspectives. We all say we’re comfortable with those who are different than us, but that’s not really true. If we were honest, we consider different – wrong. It isn’t. It’s just different.

This week take a look around and take in the array of the people you work with and see how each one is unique. They’re all amazing because of their differences. Some will be organized and others will be cluttered. Some will think linearly and others don’t even know what a line looks like because they see countless versions of ever-changing intersections.

Let’s see how all of those differences make us better. I need to get back to my stacks . . .

We Should All Be More Fair

Last weekend my wife and I got to visit one of my favorite places on the planet – the Indiana State Fair. We went with our daughter who lives in Indy along with two of her close friends. We made sure to get to the fairgrounds early and even then there was a line of cars over a mile long slowly crawling to find a place to park. We missed our turn and ended up going down a side road through our own slow crawl. A police officer who was helping with the traffic snarl asked me if we minded veering off to the right and parking in a person’s yard. He told us we’d have to walk awhile to get into the fair, but we were thankful to get out of the mass of cars.

We made our way toward the gate which ended up being about a ten-minute walk, and then entered the throng of people. It was packed and I thought that was wonderful. You could see people wandering from location to location full of excitement and anticipation. The sights, sounds, and smells of the fair encompassed you and made the experience even better.

I am so enamored by the State Fair environment because I grew up around a farm. I was raised with my brother by my Grandpa and Grandma who ran a dairy farm. We had an aunt and uncle who had another farm a few miles away that was a mixture of raising sheep, cattle, chicken, and pigs along with acres of land growing corn, wheat, hay, and soybeans. Returning to the fairgrounds brought back all of those great memories and I was once again in my element.

The young adults who were with us were somewhat patient, but I don’t think they were ready for how I wanted to take in every aspect of the fair at a measured pace. We compromised a bit so I could wander through the rows of classic tractors and take my time in each of the livestock barns. Those are my favorites because the young kids who raise these beautiful animals live in the barn with them during the fair.

If you’ve never seen how the kids care for the animals, you really should. They take time to check on them regularly, give them baths, feed them throughout the day, and groom them so they look their best. When the kids take them to the arena to “show” them, you can’t measure the pride they exhibit. They have worked for months and months for the few moments they are in front of the judges. They’re competing for a ribbon. Yes, a ribbon. That is the pinnacle of all of their hours and hours of preparation. If they are fortunate to be in the top three of their class, they’ll get that ribbon. You should see their exuberance.

We also took our time in the 4H buildings where young people put together amazing projects ranging from decorative cake making to sewing to woodworking to art and photography (just to mention a few.) There are three buildings with multiple floors filled with rows and rows of these projects. Again, their prize – a ribbon.

As we took time to experiment and try fair food, including fried Oreos and fried cookie dough, I paused to wonder what our workplaces would look like if we took the same “fair” approach that all of the young people did. If we made sure to give all of our people undivided attention and ensured their basic needs were met so that they could perform, what would happen? If we allowed people the time needed to be creative with all the materials they needed, what would they be able to produce?

We are so focused on just getting things done in our organizations, that we don’t feel we have time to care for, equip, and believe in our people. “Work” gets the spotlight and not people doing the work. This has never been effective and never will be.

We could learn from the young people at the State Fair. They do all they can for a few moments and a small prize. However, their passion, dedication, and determination are built into seeing their good work come to life. From now on, let’s see how all of our cultures can emulate being a little more “fair.”

Shed Shopping

This weekend I personally crossed a threshold. I have always enjoyed mowing my yard by walking it using a self-propelled mower. When we first owned our house, I could mow the entire 1/2 acre in about 1 1/2 hours and on one tank of gas. It was invigorating and I looked forward to every cut. Now, Father Time is winning and what was once a task I enjoyed has turned into a chore.

I still love being outside and working in my yard. I hope that desire never wanes. However, mowing has now turned into a several-hour task where I end up spent and exhausted. I have resisted the purchase of a riding lawn mower. I have been defiant and stubborn because I never wanted to admit defeat. The time has come to accept that I need an alternative so that mowing never becomes a health issue.

To get this elusive piece of equipment to assist me in my yardwork calls for a new addition – a shed. We don’t have enough room in our garage for a riding lawn mower with our cars. I know I could park outside, but we have enough room to add this new structure. (Please note that I know we’re fortunate to have the home and property we have and don’t take it for granted.)

To find a location that sells sheds, I searched online and found a location that was a mere five miles from my house. That seemed ideal and too good to be true. My wife and I jumped into the car and trekked over to hopefully find what we were looking for. When we pulled up to the drive, we were a bit concerned. There were examples of sheds lined up along the right side of the drive, but we didn’t see anyone we could talk to. We saw one of the buildings that had a small clock sign on it with hands saying people would be back at 10:00 am. It was 10:30 am. We didn’t feel confident about this location or experience. It was disappointing, but we weren’t defeated.

We looked for other places throughout the city we could venture to. One site looked promising but it was quite a drive to get there. Undeterred, we headed out. As we pulled into the location at Miller Barns, we felt more at ease and thought we’d potentially find a shed. The buildings were more spread out and there was a main office right as you entered the property. We were able to meander in and out of as many buildings as we liked. We checked out sheds of every style and size. Inside each one was pricing information and dimensions.

After almost an hour, we went into the office and were greeted by two young, eager, and engaged men. They started with, “Hi there !! What brings you in?”

“We’d like to buy a shed,” I replied. “Well, then I think you came to the best place for that,” said the lead manager. I know this sounds cliche but it wasn’t. The two staff were full of passion and couldn’t wait to answer every question we posed. They asked what our time frame was and tried to gauge our interest. They were fairly sure we weren’t going to make an impulse buy, but they wanted to do their best to get us closer to making a purchase.

We thanked them for their time and reassured them we’d be back to get a shed after we did some measuring back home. To try to ply us one last time they offered us some delectable donuts on the way out. (We passed . . . this time.) The experience with the team who loved their job made our decision easy. We’ll definitely be back to get the new house for the impending riding lawn mower.

Do you see what a difference it makes when you encounter people who love their job? The first place we visited was run down, sketchy, and virtually abandoned. The second place was warm, welcoming, informed, and prepared to provide a great customer encounter. What is it like where you work? How about you personally?

You see, I think we focus so much on what’s wrong at work. Or, we complain about how others aren’t as good producers as they should be. The two gentlemen did none of that. It’s going to end up in a sale. What if we took on their approach and loved what we did instead? What would our companies look like if we expected this from others as well?

I know it makes a difference by loving the work I do. I believe that if you can see this shed shopping, you can make it come to life everywhere !!

The 1st Pitch

On Sunday, I had both a life-affirming and a life-changing moment. I went to the Cincinnati Reds game to see a dear friend throw out the 1st pitch. Now, if you’re a sports fan at all, this is a bucket list item for most men. We grow up watching games and fantasize about taking the mound in front of a packed stadium waiting to “bring it” with a strike right across the plate.

Getting to see a friend have this opportunity would have been reason enough to go to the game. The story about the amazing man and his current situation makes it even more substantial. John and I have known each other for several years. Our kids are all around the same age, and we saw each other at school events from elementary school through high school. We were both also adult leaders in Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts. Two of his sons were in the Troop where I was Scoutmaster for a few years and I loved seeing them and getting to spend time with John. On top of our paths crossing at school and scouting, John’s family lives a few blocks away from me. We’d see each other wandering around the streets on neighborhood walks and make sure to catch up every time.

John and I are also connected by two other important facets of our lives. We are both men of faith and we have shared how that is a driver of who we are as humans because it easily melded with our shared profession. You see, John and I are peers who both work in HR.

So, when I received the sobering news in 2022 that my friend had been diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease), I was floored. It was hard for me to come to terms with this because John is one of the most approachable, friendly, encouraging, thoughtful, funny, and loving people I know. To receive the news of having a terminal disease ran contrary to the life that John willingly exudes with all he encounters.

The game on Sunday was to recognize Lou Gehrig Day throughout Major League Baseball. John shared several months ago that he was going to be the person throwing out the 1st pitch on this day. Everyone in the neighborhood who knows the family made plans to make sure they were there to watch and support John. A few weeks ago, John posted that his legs had been weakening as his condition progressed. I was wondering and praying that he’d be healthy enough to complete his dream.

As I entered the stadium with my daughter and family friends, Melanie said,
“There’s Mr. Barlow !!” I looked over and saw Ann and the kids (now adults) all huddled together and John in his wheelchair. I left my crew to go over in the hope of seeing him. I caught Ann’s attention first and gave her a rich hug. I worked over to John and his face lit up, as it does with everyone, when he saw me.

“Steve !! Just a second.” He slowly reached down and folded the footrest up and he stood. His arms spread wide and we embraced deeply and held each other. He leaned back and said, “I love you. You need to know that.”

I told him I loved him too, and how glad I was to see him and be there for the big event. He told me his plan was to shake off the sign that his son Thomas was going to give him before throwing his pitch. I told him that was perfect and I couldn’t wait to see it. John thanked me for coming and even said, “I knew you’d be here.”

I grabbed his hand tightly one more time, walked away, and wept. He didn’t see it and I know he wouldn’t have minded if he did. John has seen me weep often when talking about, or with, people I care for. My daughter knew I was going to be emotional. We went down to our seats and had a first-row view of John.

The stadium announcer gave a warm introduction of John and his family and he eagerly drove his wheelchair up to the top of the pitcher’s mound with two of his three sons. His third son took his place as catcher. The crowd was on their feet cheering with all they had. John stood, bent over to get his sign, shook it off, stood mightily, and threw the pitch. It made its way to home plate and was spot on. The cheers were resounding even louder for him after the pitch !!

He made his way off the field and the first thing he did was hug his wife Ann. He waved to the friends and family who came to see him succeed. The whole scenario couldn’t have been more perfect.

We stayed for the game and the Reds lost to the dreaded Cubs, but that didn’t seem to matter. Being there for my friend did.

John doesn’t know how many more days he’ll have of good health or even life. Honestly, neither do we. We do, however, have the ability to choose how we will face this life for the time we have it. I want to choose life as John has. In the midst of all he’s facing, he is upfront with his faith, present for his family, shares gratitude for every experience he has, and looks for the best in everyone. It’s not a show or an act. It’s who he is.

As I said at the beginning of this piece, today was life-affirming because of the time I had to talk with my dear friend before his adventure. It was also life-changing because it gave me perspective on how life can be full, rich, meaningful, and unapologetically filled with love and joy.

May that be true for anyone who reads this. Embrace life. Embrace each other. Weep at times. Laugh always. Each day has meaning. Make that happen on purpose and take the mound !!

Be Still

Whenever I get the opportunity to speak in front of a room of HR and business professionals, I need to do something to capture their attention. That’s because if given the chance, they’ll be staring at one screen or another. It may be their laptop or their phone. It doesn’t really matter. The pull and allure of each device are so strong that we’ve all become mentally and emotionally attached to them. Sound harsh? It should because it’s what has happened to every person (including me.)

The voices in our heads tell us that we must stay eternally connected because if we don’t, we’re sure to miss something. I’m not being critical just observational. We don’t break away – and honestly don’t want to. When canvassing the presentation attendees each person is burdened because of the busyness they find themselves in. It’s all-encompassing and it seems like there is no exit. Instead of finding a needed respite, we take on more and more tasks and commitments adding to the crushing weight we already carry.

Whenever we do try to step back and rest, we feel guilty and tell ourselves that if we don’t jump back in quickly then “things” won’t get done. We’re not entirely clear what those “things” are, but we are confident they will remain undone. We don’t really know if that’s true or not because we’re not patient enough to find out. It’s a vicious cycle.

Lately, I’ve been more reflective and intentional to not fall into this trap any longer. It’s not that I want to avoid getting things done. Far from it. However, feeling compelled to be on the go constantly isn’t healthy mentally, emotionally, spiritually, or physically. I heard a person recently state that people find that “low-grade exhaustion is the new normal.” That’s encouraging, isn’t it ?? I have a feeling that you can relate to this even while you’re reading this.

What can we do? How can we make time for ourselves to rest and disconnect? What will happen to the myriad of tasks, deadlines, and mountains of work and activity if we dare break our pattern? It’s a two-word answer.

Be Still.

It’s not more complicated than that, but the discipline and faith to make this a reality takes true effort. Whenever you try to move in this direction, the pull to stay entrapped is great. However, once you do accomplish this breakthrough, the benefits are immense. I don’t want to be prescriptive or suggest a step-by-step model that surely will work for each of you. I think this approach is ineffective.

Being still is a cognizant step to breaking your current life pattern with the assurance it will work. You’ll have to trust me that it does. I now take time to be still regularly. I don’t try to fill this space with something else. I just simply take a break to calm myself, focus on the environment and people around me, and relax. Stopping the maddening pace of life gives me peace. I find that having this practice built into my days has actually rejuvenated me.

Now, I have more energy, joy, and time (yes, time) because I refuse to keep running at a breakneck pace. Being still has also cleared my thoughts enough that when the next challenge or conflict is at my doorstep, I’m in a better mental space to address it.

This week break away. This week don’t keep fighting to stay afloat. This week refuse to keep running. This week . . . Be Still.