research, and information to make the business case for the value of appreciating employees.
I spoke with Bob on the phone prior to the event, and Christopher’s assessment of him seemed quite accurate—he was a no-nonsense, bottom-line kind of guy. The call went well, and I was feeling excited about the opportunity to speak at this important meeting, although I was still feeling a bit nervous about it, too.
I was scheduled to speak for an hour at the very end of the meeting, but I asked if I could come a few hours earlier just to sit in the back of the room and get a sense of the group and meet some of the folks before I got up. As I was sitting in the back listening to Bob speak to his leadership team, he talked about the previous year, which had been rough for them results-wise, and about the new year, which he felt cautiously optimistic about. I could feel a lot of stress, pressure, and fatigue in the room—these people had been through a lot; they were worn out and worried about turning things around.
My gut feeling was, These people need a good cry. As soon as that thought would pop up, right behind it would be another one, probably from my gremlin, which said, Shut up! There will be no crying today, Robbins, no touchy-feely stuff—remember what they told you. Stick to the script, do a good job, don’t blow this. It could be a huge opportunity for you. For the next few hours, as I sat in the back of that room preparing for my presentation, I continued to have this argument in my head between my intuition and my gremlin. It was, as you can imagine, a bit stressful and confusing.
When I finally got up to speak, I began talking all about the importance of appreciation, explaining the business case for it, citing some of the key research from the fields of positive psychology and strengths-based leadership in terms of engaging employees and maximizing results—all very important stuff. And though I understood this and saw that it was resonating with the group, my gut kept telling me that I needed to be talking in a more personal way.
One of my main intentions whenever and wherever I speak is to touch people’s hearts and have an authentic conversation about not simply the topic at hand but also what’s going on in the present moment and what we’re all dealing with as human beings—both the joy and the pain of being alive. Although I felt nervous about it, I decided to trust my intuition. I had them pair up and do an exercise where they talked about some of the stress they were experiencing as well as what and whom they were grateful for—even in the midst of the uncertain times they were going through. The conversation shifted from data, information, and the importance of appreciation in business, to the relevance and importance of appreciation in life. As I closed my speech with a final, personal story, there was a lot of emotion in the room—a number of people were crying.
Bob, however, didn’t look pleased. He had a pained expression on his face as he stood up to say a few closing comments to the group to end the meeting. Even though I felt good about the speech and could tell it resonated with the group, I sat there on pins and needles waiting to hear what Bob had to say. He started to tell a story about one of his mentors who had helped him through some difficult times and specifically over the course of the last year when things were really tough for him as a leader and for them as an organization. As he got to the end of his story, he paused, stumbled, and got choked up with emotion. By the reaction of the group, I could tell this wasn’t common for him and was a pretty big deal.
As the meeting ended, Christopher made a beeline right over to me, grabbed me by the arm, and pulled me out into the hallway. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “Four years! For four years we’ve been waiting for him to show up like that as a leader … and, he finally did it today. Thank you.”
Even though
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