Near-life experiences

From The Simple-Minded Manager, Cutting Through Your Work-Life Chaos

Have you read Betty Eadie's book, Embraced by the Light? Eadie writes about people who have survived near-death experiences, and the incredible impact these experiences have on their future lives. Well, I want to talk about a kind of experience that has even more impact. I call these near-life experiences.

What do I mean by near-life experiences? We all have them sometime in our lives. A near-life experience is a critical decision point -- an opportunity to live the life you want. A near-life experience is an opportunity to take that first step on a pathway leading to a more productive, influential and satisfying life.

Unfortunately, too many people don't survive their near-life experiences. They don't take that step. They don't seize that opportunity. Something inside them dies. We all know people who have not survived their near-life experiences. At best, they are the middle-aged men and women who are hanging on until retirement so they can do the things they have always wanted to do -- to "really live". At worst, they are the people who in desperation harm themselves or their coworkers. How sad! Too many people live lives never experiencing life to its fullest.

There are thousands of reasons for not surviving a near-life experience -- fear of the unknown, family responsibilities, economic uncertainty, inadequate self-awareness, poor self-confidence and on and on.

I am going to tell you three personal survival stories. These are stories about people who faced critical life decisions, and made life-enhancing choices. These are stories about people who survived their near-life experiences.

My first near-life survival story is about Ned, a friend and former business partner. Back in the early 80's, Ned was caught in a corporate down sizing. After 18 years of employment, with a major pharmaceutical company he was without a job with only a few weeks of "parachute". I was working in New York City at another company, and I asked Ned to serve as a consultant while he made a career transition. We spent many lunch hours walking around Manhattan's eastside, figuring out Ned's professional alternatives. We examined all of the things that big corporations have to offer. Job security did not have much value -- Ned had just been let go after 18 years. Fringe benefits did not have much value -- we calculated that the average "fringie" package added up to about $2500 per year. Growth opportunities, job satisfaction, and feeling of accomplishment all seemed pretty elusive at the time. One day Ned said, "For two cents, I'd start my own business". When we looked at things really objectively, there wasn't mush keeping us tied to "corporate America".

The next day something amazing happened. An opportunity presented itself as a call from an executive search specialist. He was looking for someone to design and oversee the worldwide introduction of a contraceptive for an international non-profit organization. Guess who immediately came to mind -- Ned and me! The non-profit could not pay me the salary that I was getting in the commercial sector, nor could they provide me with the stock options that I was receiving. But armed with the insight from my walks with Ned, I negotiated a part-time position, with time to start our own business.

Ned and I ran that business together for nearly ten years, until I moved to take over another company. Ned refocused the business and grew it beyond my wildest expectations.

Back in 1982, Ned and I took that first step. Ned stayed on that path. Ned now controls his own life and finances. Ned works on the things that he holds most important. Ned is flourishing. Ned survived his near-life experience.

My second near-life survival story is about Rose, a woman that I met about one month after I had joined the New York based non-profit organization. I walked into the coffee room one day, and sat down with Rose and another female colleague that I already knew. I immediately noticed their "long faces" and subdued demeanors. I asked what made them so down hearted. Rose said, " There are no professional opportunities". She explained that she was there as a short-term post-doctoral appointment. Her husband had not yet relocated from California. Then Rose said, "There are no jobs anywhere for me". I asked her why she believed that. She replied, "I am a demographer and there are only four jobs for demographers in the entire world". I thought for a moment. Rose was doing what so many of us do -- she was defining herself in the "box" of her education. I said, "Rose, I don't see a demographer; I see a bright young professional with a complex array of interests, talents and experiences, including your educational experience".

I invited Rose to my office and offered, "If you take one hour and do an exercise with me, I guarantee that you will find a satisfying productive career opportunity". Rose looked skeptical, but joined me. I simply started Rose on a networking process. I picked five colleagues' names from my Rolodex file in order to make phone introductions for Rose. These were people in quite diverse occupations, but who shared Rose's interest in math. I asked Rose not to define herself as a demographer, but to discuss her interests and experiences. I also asked her to request from each contact the names of five additional people that she might contact.

Well, Rose landed a job in the pharmaceutical industry doing statistical analyses of clinical research. After a few years, another company hired her to direct an entire department. When I last heard from her, Rose was thriving. Rose no longer defines herself too narrowly. Rose is aware of the breadth of her potential. Rose is open to life's opportunities. Rose survived her near-life experience.

The third near-life survival story that I want to tell you is my own. Several years ago, I became President of a not-profit company. What I did not know when I accepted the position, was that the Board of Directors had been at war for some time. In fact, there was a small Board faction that was opposed to my hiring. A key person in that faction just happened to be the Chairperson of the Personnel Committee, the group responsible for my yearly performance evaluations. After about a year, she approached me with a proposal to have the entire staff do a voluntary, anonymous evaluation of me. I like feedback and transparency, so I thought this was a good idea. I had been moving the organization along an ambitious strategic plan rather aggressively, and recognized that some staff members were beyond their comfort zones. We distributed evaluation forms and asked anyone who wished to participate to mail them anonymously to the Chairperson of the personnel Committee.

Several months later, the Board and Staff came together for the organization's semiannual meeting. I was about three sentences into my President's Message to the entire group, when the personnel Committee Chairperson interrupted my speech, attacking me directly. She later presented to the Board what she represented to be a report of the Staff's evaluation of my performance. The report stated, among many other charges that I had no vision, did little real work, did not understand the field, and was dismissive of the staff's emotional needs.

Can you imagine how I felt? I was shocked! I was hurt! I couldn't believe my ears! How could I have been so blind to this perception of me? After several hours of grilling by the Board in private session, I sadly offered my resignation. I reasoned that if the Staff did not recognize me as their leader, I could not effectively lead the organization.

Late that night, I received a phone call from another Board member. She was in tears. She was extremely upset that I had resigned. She asked me to reconsider. She said that she did not believe that the report accurately reflected the views of the Staff, and that my resignation would be harmful to the organization. After some further discussion with the entire Board, I agreed to stay on for six months to a year and evaluate whether I was the best leader for the organization. The Chairperson of the personnel Committee resigned from the Board.

This was the most difficult year of my life. Can you sense how I felt? Day after day I stood, wounded and bleeding, before my staff, working to rebuild a productive relationship and to execute the strategic plan we had committed our selves to accomplish.

Well, the healing process took time, but was successful. As a matter of fact, on my watch, the organization's income increased five-fold, sales of our medical products increased nearly three-fold, and the manufacturing process gained an international quality certification.

But this is not the important part of my near-life experience. During the reconciliation process, I attended a leadership program for CEOs and other high level managers. This was a weeklong total immersion experience of self-exploration directed toward improving leadership capacity. We underwent extensive evaluation and feedback, including that from our own employees, colleagues and supervisors. At the end of the program, I met with the faculty member who had observed me and had collected data on my activities all week. She led me through the volumes of information generated in the evaluations and exercises. She summarized my strengths, weaknesses and priorities for self-improvement.

She told me something that changed my life forever. She said, "Forrest, you are a very intimidating person". I was confused! I view myself as a rather quiet and unassuming guy, certainly not intimidating. She explained, "Forrest, you have unusually long-range vision and you are unusually organized and determined to achieve that vision. You move people toward that vision with unusual vigor. This scares people to death."

Then she said something that crystallized in my brain, "Forrest, if they can't see where you are going, you must go where they are seeing". "If they can't see where you are going, you must go where they are seeing" She continued that the single most important thing that I could do to improve my leadership capacity was simply to improve my ability to communicate to people in their own contexts.

I came back from that experience determined to improve my communication skills. I refocused my personal mission and redefined my own strategic plan. I now view that the most important priority in my life is to communicate the simple management lessons that I have learned to future leaders. I now have a strategy for gaining the skills that I need to accomplish that goal. I now have the comfort with myself to stand before people from all walks of life and tell my story. I am thriving! I survived my near-life experience.

Now, every story should have a moral and I will try to give you the moral of mine. It is very simple. Some day, you will come to that fork in the road that will be your near-life experience. You will have the opportunity to take that first step-- to be your own missionary -- to live your own values -- to find your own voice. Or, you just might succumb to one of the thousands of reasons that people find to live life without experiencing life to its fullest.

Please, prepare your self for this day. Be ready.

Survive your near-life experience.

Embraced by the light, Betty J. Eadie, 1994

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