I was slated to meet with Linda at a coffee shop in Richmond a few months ago. She’s regarded as one of the best business consultants in the city, and an excellent person to have in your networking circle. She graciously carved out some time in her busy schedule for a face-to-face meeting with me, but rather than feeling excited about the encounter, I grew frantic and anxious before I even sat down with her.
I’ve struggled with ADD most of my life. It’s challenging for me to not to get distracted by simple fleeting occurrences of everyday life, such as: the familiar face of a neighbor passing by my window; a flat screen positioned behind a barista, broadcasting the local weather while I’m placing my coffee order; the sound of a 2 year-old boy giggling and playing patty-cake with his mother on the other side of a room. These kinds of things create a collage of alluring distractions, and it’s an ongoing battle for me to (try to) ignore them.
However, on this particular day, it wasn’t just the elements of my immediate environment that were pulling my attention in a million directions. Having taken in an excessive amount of stimulus within a very short span of time, my brain was 100% overloaded, and I was fresh outta bandwidth!
It had started first thing in the morning after reading a disturbing article about a mother of two young children who’d gone missing near my home town. My head was still reeling from that news report when I got into a heated argument with my 5 year-old daughter about the inappropriateness of her wearing light canvas shoes on a bitterly cold day—which resulted in a full-blown temper tantrum (on her part…although I was close!). Next in line was a tense discussion with my wife, Amanda, regarding the never-ending list of house renovations in need of completion. All these things in succession left me in an agitated state as I exited my house and headed off to meet with Linda.
When I finally arrived at the coffee shop (five minutes late, due to getting stuck in rush-hour traffic) I was still ruminating about my stressful morning—which now included being flipped off by some guy as I pulled into the parking lot. By the time I was sitting across from Linda, the swirling mess of events and the replaying of contentious dialogue in my mind was causing a distracting hum in my head, and I found it impossible to focus.
There was no question—my lack of attentiveness was visible to her. I couldn’t maintain eye contact, I had difficulty following her conversation, and I repeated myself…repeatedly! At one point, I even got distracted with the idea of picking up my daughter from school, and caught myself glancing at the clock on my phone while Linda was talking to me.
Considering that my profession as a coach means I am essentially paid to provide people with my undivided attention, it’s hard to imagine my inability to pull myself together—especially in light of this golden opportunity to network with a local business mogul of such high caliber, but this was exactly the case; I was absolutely lost in a mental fog, and I couldn’t manage to snap myself out of it.
But then—something transpired that changed everything. My head was pulled out of the clouds and I was saved from an embarrassing and disastrous situation.
Customarily, this would be the point in the article when I’d offer a list of exercises for regaining focus when you’re in trouble during an important meeting. (I’ve posted numerous RefuseOrdinary articles in this vein over the past six years, and you can read a few of them here if you’d like.) While the tips presented in these articles are beneficial, the meeting wasn’t revolutionized due to some clever action on my part. It was Linda who saved the day (in the best way possible).
In spite of the fact that I was obviously distracted and pretty much wasting her time, Linda remained fully poised and engaged, and gracious—giving me her undivided attention. She leaned in and asked me what I did for a living. Even as I rambled, she remained intent on absorbing my every word, all of which helped me relax, and I began relating to her more as a friendly associate—not some high-rollin’ tycoon I needed to impress. I shared a few tidbits of the madness I’d experienced at home before I left for the meeting, and joked about the guy who flipped me off in the parking lot, and she laughed. Never once did she break eye contact with me, even when a server dropped a plate right behind her. And when a friend recognized her and began walking toward us, she politely let him know she’d be happy to speak with him when she was done with our meeting.
For the first time in a long time, I had the privilege of feeling fully seen, listened to, heard, and respected by someone I’d only just met in a business-oriented setting. Her commitment to making the most of this meeting, and to being present with our conversation, had an infectious effect on me—and it quieted my mind immediately. It became very easy to formulate my questions and answers as I connected with her, and without even trying, I slowed way down and zeroed in on the topics at hand. Simply through her attentiveness and genuine interest, she gave me the feeling that nothing else in the world mattered to her but our conversation, and we ended up having a truly enjoyable and fruitful exchange.
More than anything, this is a story about the power of commitment, compassion, and intention—(of which paying attention is a by-product). Linda is a highly-intelligent, successful businesswoman who knew she was in the presence of someone who was off his game. Rather than let the whole thing fizzle out, she chose to make the most of this circumstance, simply by hanging in there with me and optimizing her own time, offering me 100% of her attention, which never waned or wavered—and in doing so, demonstrated her own commitment to herself and to her career.
And this goes hand in hand with the subject of compassion. I was undeniably rattled by the events of the day, and unable to conceal my awkwardness. All the while, Linda conducted herself like a seasoned hostess of a dinner party who graciously takes note of an uncomfortable guest, and effortlessly guides the conversation to keep the ball rolling and to set him at ease.
As for intention, that’s what this all boils down to. Linda was fully committed to the time she’d carved out for this meeting, and was intentional with her every action—each step of the way. She was even graceful in the way she handled her friend who’d momentarily interrupted us—demonstrating a brilliant template of highly-developed empathy and communication skills that served the entire situation for all concerned.
Everyone in this story WON.
Perhaps hearing about Linda and the way she conducted herself with me at the coffee shop will offer some food for thought in terms of how commitment, intentionality and compassion show up in your daily interactions.
