Anyone who knows me will tell you: I almost never lose my temper.
I even consider my ability to stay calm in stressful, even argumentative, circumstances to be one of my super-powers.
But the other day I LOST IT.
At a diner.
About breakfast.
See, I was out early running errands, and it suddenly occurred to me that I could try out this nearby diner for the first time and treat myself to a nice breakfast.
I *love* diner food.
When I get there and the server points out a booth to me, I scootch myself in. I am very pleased that the decor is classic – refreshingly unironic – and the food smells great.
Especially the biscuits and gravy, which I consider a rare treat indeed.
I decide to order something with the unappetizing name of “The Kitchen Sink.” Which is all the bits and pieces of all the things I want to try. Which is excellent because….
I *love* a sample platter.
So a diner-breakfast-sample-platter is kind of my ideal order.
Except – the way the dish is described on the menu, they pile all of the elements up in a stack on one plate. Home fries on the bottom, then eggs, then a biscuit and gravy on that, then bacon. I think this sounds sort of gross.
So when the server comes to take my order, I explain that I would like The Kitchen Sink, but may I please have it spread out instead of stacked up? Or even on different plates?
“No.”
Huh?
“We don’t serve it that way.”
OK….um…..why???
“Let me get the manager.”
Wow. That escalated quickly. But I’m not mad – more puzzled than anything else.
Now the manager comes over – one of those short, stocky, thick-necked men who has a sort of bulldog-like demeanor.
“Is there a problem?” he gruffs.
I explain my thing about wanting a Deconstructed Kitchen Sink.
“No.”
HUH? Why?
“We were getting slammed with substitutions, and….”
Oh! I get it! Yes – I’ve worked in hospitality and food service and I get it – substitutions are a nightmare. I totally get it. I clarify that I’m happy to accept the meal as cooked, I just want it spread out a bit.
“No.”
Wow. I ask again, “Why?!?!?!?”
“These are the rules,” says Mr. Bulldog. “The government has rules, I have rules, we all have to follow the rules.”
The government has rules about my breakfast?
“Can I get you something else?”
Now this would be my big opportunity to shrug my shoulders, smile sweetly and order everything in that Kitchen Sink thing, but à la carte.
Or pick something else on the menu to eat.
Or simply ask for a hot tea and take some time to reconsider the life choices that brought me to here.
But I don’t.
Because of all the things that piss me off (and again – there aren’t that many of those things) the phrase, “That’s just the rules, ma’am” is the WORST.
My Inner Teenager was incensed, and the next thing I knew I was in my car, pulling away, still hungry and now, angry and crying.
To be fair, I’ve been doing a lot of crying the past few weeks, so even in that moment I knew that the tears may not have been about the diner.
I try to calm down. I remember I haven’t eaten, which is probably why I’m reacting so strongly. Eat something, I think. So I pull in to good, old, reliable Starbucks and order a tea and a breakfast egg-and-sausage sandwich. (Which is an all-piled-up thing, I know. #icontradictmyself #icontainmultitudes)
While I’m waiting for my order, I make a point to try and notice the other people in the Starbucks being human with one another. There are two teenage girls bent over a phone. There is a couple having an intense discussion about something that had happened the day before. There are two workers outside, stringing up holiday lights.
Usually noticing other people just being their dear, human selves is enough to cheer me up and calm me down.
Not today, though.
I get back in my car and do some of my favorite 4-7-8 breathing (inhale for 4, hold for 7, exhale for 8) which almost always calms me down like magic.
Not today.
I consider calling a friend to vent. Then I remember how my friend Billy always referred to that “venting” as “praying the problem.” Anytime you find yourself repeating a story over and over – especially one in which you are the innocent victim, you are energizing that story. You are perpetuating that reality. So while normally I would be perfectly happy to dump this whole silly story on a friend so that I can be told how right I am and how dumb everyone else is, I chose not to. So – no venting.
Not today.
As I drove, I caught myself re-running the conversation with Mr. Bulldog in my head – especially the part at the end, where I just sort of wiggled out of the booth, grabbed my bag and left without saying much. I kept mentally re-writing better and better lines of dialogue for myself. You may have noticed in your own life that re-playing old conversations, or pre-rehearsing conversations you haven’t had yet, is NOT the highest and best use of your imagination. So I knew that replaying the incident over and over was not going to help me, no matter how clever my l’esprit de l’escalier (literally: the wit, or inspiration, of the stairs. Leave it to the French to come up with a term that describes the thing you think of to say when you’ve already stormed out, slammed the door and are halfway down the stairwell. Genius.) So – no reruns.
Not today.
OK – time for the big medicine. I started to run through Byron Katie’s Four Questions. If you aren’t familiar with Katie’s work (www.TheWork.com) I cannot recommend it highly enough. I find her simple process to be revelatory, every single time.
But not today.
ARRRGHHHHH.
I was almost home. I had run through my favorite tools for self-management, and I was still mad.
I resolved that this diner dude and his dumb breakfast rules were NOT going to ruin my day. No, sir! Not today, sir!
So I called the restaurant, and asked to speak to Mr. Bulldog. I introduced myself, and then I said that I was calling to apologize to him. I explained that it was unlike me to storm out like that, and that I was sorry for behaving that way.
“I just want people to have a nice breakfast, ” he blustered, still defensive.
I said I understood, and I thanked him for hearing me out. As he was hanging up, he sort of mumbled something I couldn’t hear. I hope it was something nice.
He didn’t apologize.
He certainly didn’t he hoped they’d see me again soon.
He wasn’t even particularly nice about me apologizing.
But I didn’t call him because I wanted him to apologize.
I didn’t call him to try to make him feel bad about his behavior.
I called because I felt bad about MY behavior.
I apologized to him not because he “deserved” it.
I apologized to him because I deserved it.
And I felt so much better afterwards.
There were a million different ways I could have handled this diner situation. Obviously, it was a completely minor matter to which I had an outsized emotional response.
That’s what happens when your values get stepped on.
So when you find yourself getting unusually peeved about something or someone – ask yourself, “Which values of mine are getting squashed here? And how can I realign myself with my values right now?”
I called him because kindness and good humor and empathy and finding creative solutions are some of my most important values, and when Mr. Bulldog demonstrated NONE of those, I freaked out.
The fact that I was able to un-freak myself out in less than an hour is the result of thousands of hours of spiritual study and personal development.
I used my tools:
1) Eat something. Drink something reassuring.
2) Notice all the humans around you being human.
3) Try 4-7-8 breathing.
4) Avoid “praying the problem.” Quit collecting evidence about how right you are.
5) Stay in the present moment. Do not allow your imagination to get stuck replaying, re-writing or rehearsing hard conversations.
6) Explore www.TheWork.com by Byron Katie.
7) Examine your values, and notice which ones are at play.
8) Treat others as you would like to be treated. Especially if they don’t deserve it.
CHAPTER ONE:
When I started teaching the Get It Done Workshop in 2001, I had no intention of starting a business.
I just needed to make some extra money, and I thought that maybe I could help people.
So I borrowed a seldom-used room at my church and ended up getting 11 people to take my 6-week course.
I think I made $8250, which I thought was amazing.
I still think it’s amazing.
CHAPTER TWO:
In 2009, I got the idea that maybe I could teach Get It Done full time. I started teaching on InstantTeleseminar (remember that??) and started building my email list, because I could now teach people no matter where they lived.
I started to learn about small business and marketing and sales. It was like learning a new language – but I liked it.
Turns out “business” is just another word for “people.”
CHAPTER THREE:
In 2012 I got my first book deal with New World Library – with a very modest advance and a long publication timeline, since I was a complete unknown.
But thanks to my (then) over 10 years of experience teaching Get It Done, I could demonstrate that there was an audience for this work. Plus my email list had grown quite a bit, and publishers love that.
By now I was offering an array of courses, workshops and live events.
I adored it.
Still do.
CHAPTER FOUR:
In 2016, I wrote and published my second book with New World, “Start Right Where You Are: How Little Changes Can Make a Big Difference for Overwhelmed Procrastinators, Frustrated Overachievers and Recovering Perfectionists.”
More workshops, more courses, more live events – and I was starting to be asked to teach and speak and deliver keynotes at conferences all over.
CHAPTER FIVE:
In March, 2020 I had just returned from co-leading an amazing retreat workshop with my best friend in Belize when the world shut down.
I started filming courses with Madecraft, a production company in Santa Barbara, and they sold them to LinkedIn Learning and other online learning platforms.
CHAPTER SIX:
In the last two and a half years, I got kicked out of the apartment on the beach I’d been in for 10 years (the building got sold and turned into an AirBnB), my cat died, my best friend died, my father got a terminal diagnosis and died, and I got Long-Haul C0vid, making it almost impossible for me to work.
In any other business, this all would have spelt complete disaster.
THE HAPPY ENDING:
Thanks to all that is good, my business is based on workshops.
So I was able to keep teaching online, even while sick, plus my LinkedIn Courses keep gathering steam.
I now have almost a million “learners” worldwide on LinkedIn Learning.
Which helped me get my latest book deal.
We adopted two more kitties, and I was able to buy my first house – in Connecticut – with four bedrooms and private lake access. I am getting treatment from the Long-Haul Clinic at Yale, and am feeling better all the time.
THE MORAL OF THE STORY:
The ability to lead and teach workshops has not just built my business – it’s saved my life.
By “workshop” I mean everything from:
– simple 2-hour Saturday afternoon trainings
– six-week intensives
– 3-Day Live Events (with over 100 people coming from all over the world)
– high-end year-long trainings
– luxury week-long Retreat in Belize (and this year – Crete!)
And YOU CAN DO IT, TOO.
Yesterday I delivered a little training about how to Turn Your Wisdom Into (Online) Workshops) and you can see it here https://fb.watch/lkwLZQoRi6/
We’ve got a VERY SPECIAL SALE going on right now for my Turn Your Wisdom Into (Online) Workshops right now –
—-> Check out the offer here and get $100 OFF plus a $750 BONUS: https://therealsambennett.com/wiow
Leading workshops (online or in real life) is an amazing way to share your wealth of knowledge, make some extra cash and have a lot of fun.
Consider it, won’t you?
I can’t wait to hear what *****your workshop success story***** will be.
P.S. Can you think of a friend who might be interested in this special offer? Feel free to send them over to https://therealsambennett.com/wiow to see all the details. Thanks – S.
He: OK, it’s 3:30 – let’s go pick up my car from the shop.
She: I’m not ready to go right now. Let’s go later.
He: I don’t want to go later. I want to go now.
She: Why does it always have to be about what you want?
He: That’s ridiculous! It’s never about what I want. I never get to do what I want. You always get your way…
Or like this?
Parent: Put on your shoes, please.
Kid: No.
Parent: Put on your shoes.
Kid: No.
Parent: Put on your shoes.
Kid: No.
Parent: All right, that’s it. I’ve had it. Put on your shoes right now or you are going to get a time out. Is that what you want? 1….2….
Sound familiar? OK – how about this one:
Your Heart: I want to work on my book.
Your Head: That’s dumb. You never finish anything. You’ve had that idea for years.
Your Heart: But I really love writing.
Your Head: Oh, please. Ever since Mrs. Martin told you that you were a good writer when you were in the third grade you’ve been all hung up on writing. You’re probably not even really any good. And have you seen what’s happening to publishing lately? Let’s go on Facebook…you can write funny things on your friends’ wall if you want to write so much.
Get Out Of Your Defensive Position
I think that it is very difficult to listen, to learn or to negotiate when you are feeling defensive. You’re just too busy protecting your weak spots. And maybe trying to get in a few jabs yourself.
So the next time you catch yourself with your arms crossed, your eyebrows raised and your temper beginning to flare, ask yourself: What More Information Do I Need? and What Information Can I Communicate More Clearly?
With those questions in mind, the first dialogue might go like this:
He: OK, it’s 3:30 – let’s go pick up my car from the shop.
She: I’m not ready to go right now. Let’s go later.
He: I don’t want to go later. I want to go now.
She: Well, I want to go later because I’m sort of in the middle of writing this blog post right now. Why do you want to go now?
He: I have some errands that need to be done by 5pm, and I’m concerned about traffic. If we stay here another 5 minutes, does that give you enough time to get to a good stopping point?
She: Oh, I didn’t know you had errands that were time-dependent. Actually, we can just go right now. I’ll have time to finish writing when we get back.
Or
Parent: Put on your shoes, please.
Kid: No.
Parent: I know you like to be barefoot. I need you to put on your shoes because we’re going to the park and it’s cold outside and I don’t want your feet to get frozen like popsicles. Then we’d have to change your name to “Popsicle Feet,” and I don’t think any of us want that. Now, do you want to wear your red sneakers or your boots?
Kid: That’s silly. OK…red sneakers, please.
Now, I know that negotiations – particularly family negotiations – don’t always go that easily. Not everything can be solved by simply explaining your rationale. (Especially when it comes to little kids and shoes – I know.)
But assuming good will diminishes conflict.
Full disclosure makes room for cooperation.
And how about that internal conversation?
Your Heart: I want to work on my book.
Your Head: That’s dumb. You never finish anything. You’ve had that idea for years.
Your Heart: I know – that’s how I know it’s an important project. Because I had this idea years ago and I’m still thinking about it.
Your Head: Oh, please. Ever since Mrs. Martin told you that you were a good writer when you were in the third grade you’ve been all hung up on writing. You’re probably not even really any good. And have you seen what’s happening to publishing lately? Let’s go see what’s happening on Facebook…you can write funny things on your friends’ wall if you want to write so much.
Your Heart: Head, you get scared so easily, and I know you’re just trying to protect us. Thanks for that. Tell you what: I’m going to set this timer for 15 minutes and write. Then we can go on Facebook, OK?
So:
1) What are you disagreeing about?
2) What are you trying to protect?
3) What more information do you need?
4) What more information could you provide?
5) How can you affirm your good will towards yourself or towards others? (Smile, give a kiss, say something sweet, make a good joke – not a mean joke! a fun joke! – let them know that you’ve walked a mile in their red sneakers…)
Apologies are to be reserved for times when you have transgressed and are truly sorry.
But for times when you are, in fact, not sorry, consider this strategy: don’t apologize; say, “Thank you.”
I got this advice from my friend Adam and it took a while to sink in for me. But once I realized it was a fabulous alternative to mealy-mouthing, I started to really enjoy using it.
So rather than saying, “I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you, ” consider saying, “Thank you for being patient.”
Rather than saying, “I’m sorry I can’t do XYZ,” consider saying, “Thank you for understanding that X, Y and Z are not possible for me right now.”
And rather than saying, “I’m sorry to bother you with this,” try, “Thank you so much for being available for this.”
For me, this technique solves the problem of feeling like I need to apologize when I’m not really sorry – as we all know, an insincere apology is one of the ickiest communications possible – and it allows me to focus on the good, positive aspects of the situation.
In short: inspired gratitude beats feigned servitude every single time.
Attribution Some rights reserved by mira66 on flickr
I got this AMAZING email to day from Patti, who first got the “home study” Overcoming Procrastination Toolkit and got so much out of that that she’s now enrolled in the Get It Done Teleclass that starts tomorrow.
“Dear Samantha –
A short tale:
Awhile back, about 18 months, when I started grad school, I misplaced my morning prayer practice, along with my creative soul and writer self. (They got buried under piles of intellectual material.)
Recently, via your help with ‘pure preference’ (from the toolkit which I bought, and which inspired me to just take the live class!) I was able to recognize that I don’t want to be in grad school. At all.
So I’m leaving it. I want to get back to my creative writing. My prayer practice is part of that for me. It’s the way I center, pray for the life of the world, attune my gratitude, make space for the divine to come in, align with life, let go of sorrows.
A few days ago I started it again. I feel much better, needless to say.
And yes, the angels noticed. Quickly.
After I finished this morning, I checked my email, and first up was one from the editor of a lovely small journal asking me if she could use one of my poems in the upcoming issue, because it’s about mandalas and she felt the poem spoke to that. Appropriately, it’s called ‘Morning Glory.’ It reminds me of these morning classes, as well…of your teachings. I’m so looking forward to tomorrow. Blessings. –Patti in VT”
Here is the poem:
Morning Glory
In the morning’s garden glory
a small fern, the size perhaps of a thought,
begins to uncurl, opening itself to an as yet unknown world,
lacy fronds from its spiral core, a dancer awakened and unfolding.
It does what so many of us cannot do:
trust in the Godness of itself and this divine movement,
in the undeniable rightness of the timing
that tells it now is the moment to begin revealing its soul—
On this morning, like so many others
I sit under the oak and watch it, surrounded by a dozen
ordinary sparrows who flutter and chit. They land nearby
rightly ignoring me. The air
is a gospel of call and response
against a background of song pure and perfectly in tune—
a harmony that refuses to be undone
by human savagery or neglect.
The sun moves over the mountain by inches
warming the mist which draws back into itself
invisible again like its cousin, the wind.
Overhead thousands of leaves create a holy canopy
as if a bride and bridegroom are standing underneath
vowing solemnly to love each other without restraint.
Every creature, every song, every stone and leaf stalk
is a word of God, a gift, an eternal communion—and now I know
that it is only when we become insignificant and vast
we discover we must no longer beg to partake,
or break ourselves apart in order to carry the shame
of what we do, and leave undone
Instead we can listen and watch with each new soul
for the constant unfolding of Godstuff.
We can do what we must do—now—
not because a frenzied terror has gripped our hearts
but because we trust
in the rightness of the timing
and because we know that our smallness
is precious, and enough.
–Patricia Frankel, June 2009
www.pattifrankel.com
Totally GLORIOUS, Patti! This just thrills me to my bones.
Anybody else want in on the Get It Done Teleclass? www.GetItDoneTeleclass.com/winter
