The Art of Discouragement

It's an amazing and fragile thing, the human ego. We verbalize that we need encouragement, await kind words that let us know that something we are doing measures up with our family and our peers. Encouragement from a perfect stranger seems to be even more welcome because they really have no stake in bringing words of approval, like maybe our mom would. Giving encouragement to another is like speaking life into their dreams especially if one is taking on something new. There will always be that small voice in the back of our minds, whispering in our ear that we can't do what we set out to or that we are not good enough. It's just a fact of life. It is amazing how attentive it is to what others say to us if we don't know how to manage it.

I started noticing an interesting phenomenon with myself over the last 5 years or so. I started paying attention to how I reacted to what people said and situations in which others would speak "words of wisdom" to me, particularly discouragement. Why I honed in on discouragement is easy. It stands out because while you may be encouraged far more than discouraged, negative comments seem to have far more weight and a bigger effect on your outlook on things. Close your eyes and think of something that you were working on, something you were proud of. Maybe you were making a career change or trying something new. Perhaps you started a new business venture. Think about how excited you were. You wanted to tell everyone what it was that you were working on. It was special to you. I want you to think of a time when someone said words to you about that dream you had that were damaging. Maybe they told you "that business is hard to break into" or "I knew a friend or had a brother who did that, it didn't work out". Ponder the feelings that were attached to hearing those words. Chances are you will feel them quite readily. You probably recalled them more than once and possibly the same words when you took on another challenge. Now think about all the people that encouraged you along the way in your venture. What did they say? Can you think of more than one? How do those feelings resonate. Not the same I am sure.

The way discouragement effects us is something of an art. Why is it that hundreds of people can give us hugs, smiles, life-giving words, help us realize our dreams, listen intently while we talk about something important, all those people that want us to feel good about ourselves and yet one person can say one thing that could completely change our outlook on the outcome of our goals. One person? Yes, one person. One person can get us thinking and recalculating our plan in an instant. Reverifying our plans to make sure we hadn't missed anything based on their observations or negative experiences seems in order as we think about what they said. We will repeat those words back to those that have always encouraged us and they will say "don't pay attention to them" but we do. A discouraging remark from a second person can send us doubting our abilities. What about the others who have been standing by us, bringing us along with their support? What about them? Doesn't what they say and do for us matter?

Here is where my analysis comes in. I started paying attention to the people that would say things to me when I would speak of my dreams or what I projects I had been working on. I began to slow down the conversation in my mind, not react and try to gain some perspective as to why they would say the things they would say. One recent exchange was a stranger that I met at a party on the beach. Since I don't know a lot of people where I am currently living, when people meet me they usually have a lot of questions such as where I am from, what my marital status is and what I do for work. I was speaking with one woman about my career change from Sales professional to writer and the first book that I have been working on. A man that had been walking by to the food table stopped and stood behind my listener as I was telling her about the context of the book, what my plans were for its completion and how far along I was. As we were conversing, the stranger interjected. Barreling himself into the conversation unannounced, my listener spun around to see who was talking. He began with the statement that his brother had written a book and he had no success in getting it published. He continued to say that I shouldn't count on my book being a success since I was a new writer. It is just too hard to debut a book from an author no one has heard of. He wrapped up his expert advice to me by saying he was just trying to help me be realistic with my plans. With those words, he walked away. Why on earth would someone want to do that to a person they had never even met before? What benefited him in bringing his brothers experience to my attention and then following it up as proof that my dreams would folly? There can be lots of reasons why his brother's book was not a success. Content, context, writing style, timing and type of publisher can all be the make or break of a new book. It may have been that his brother only approached one publisher or that he might not have sought the help he could have used to get his manuscript read by the right people. I'll never know but someone's bad experience doesn't mean everyone else's dreams are doomed to fail. The problem is, I think about what he said a lot. Thankfully I can dismiss it when it comes to mind but it is looming in the back of my brain somewhere, pricking at my optimism.
People with negative outlooks on life usually tend to cause a lot of their own failure. They are easily turned away from what they pursue because they are always looking for evidence that what they are doing is going to fail. They tend to almost overlook their successes. They try to temper another's ambitions with negativity disguised as "being realistic". They like to discourage because it makes them feel better about the times that they've missed out on success. They don't even mean to be so damaging. Perhaps they grew up in a home with other negative people and discouragement was served as routinely as breakfast before school. Negative people tend to like to be around like-minded people so they are usually being fed the same messages, over and over again. Do you know any really successful negative people? I don't.

I have had the great experience of doing some work with the MIT Sloan School of Management in my Sales career. They have a club and a contest every year for their MBA program that teaches these candidates concepts and skills with Sales that they will need to be successful in likely founding their own businesses. When I have helped with their annual International Sales Competition with other renowned business schools that span the globe, I have had the pleasure of spending time with some of the best and brightest minds in business. We come together to judge the competition of the candidates. I sit shoulder to shoulder with people who hold executive positions with some of the largest and most successful international businesses out there. You would readily recognize the logos on their business cards. I tell you this because their outlook on life and pursuit of dreams is markedly different than that of the "Negative Nelly/Ned". These individuals to be sure have had many failures. They've been fired, had businesses fail, had key projects implode and invested in things that didn't pan out. Given their stories, some would have wondered why they kept going. Maybe business or invention wasn't really for them. Isn't that what our negative friends would say? I am sure they heard plenty of those words. I am positive that they remember them as well but they didn't let it deter them from what they had set out to achieve. They are positive people. They are not fixed on the failing but looking for the keys to achieve the goal in mind. They have learned that failing is part of success and there is no need to fear or turn away, it is more or less just a part of the process not a marker for abilities or outcomes. When you talk to these folks about ideas and goals, they get excited. They want to encourage and impart wisdom in the right way. They will be all too willing to point you to people they know can help you be successful. It is like as a rite of passage for achievement. They have a duty to help others be successful in any way they can and they do.

So it comes to this. Do you want to listen to a person who has perfected the art of discouragement and who is likely not successful in their goals either or do you want to learn from positive people who have failed and persevered to come out shining in the end? How will you let the comments of others affect how you pursue your career, realize your dreams or your future? I encourage you to spend some time with a successful person this week. Someone who has done something you admire and just take in their being. If you don't know any, I have plenty of numbers to give you. They'd be happy to talk.

The Ugly Dream

Last night I had a nightmare. I don’t often remember my dreams, never mind have nightmares. It woke me up out of my sleep at a little after 4AM. Struggling to go back to bed, I couldn’t help but analyze what it meant. It was a very graphic dream, in many way revolting and repugnant but the analysis proved worthwhile even if I lost some sleep.

The dream started off at night. I was out with some friends at a rock club seeing a band play. Not real friends, dream friends. The kind where you are best friends in the dream and you wake up realizing you have no idea who they are in real life. It was very dark, kind of Goth-like. We decided to leave the club and walk around the city. That brought us to a subway. We descended the stairs onto a dank subway platform. The walls were streamed with condensation and the lights were dim. Grime lightly coated the walls from floor to ceiling. There was no one there, just me and my dream friends. We decided to jump from the platform onto the tracks. We started walking away from the subway station toward the black tunnel of the underground subway system. Surprisingly, I was not afraid. It felt exhilarating. Into the dark we went. We found a dimly lit hallway to the left of the tunnel. As in most dreams, suddenly my crew of friends disappeared and I went into the hallway by myself, curious by the noise I heard down the corridor.

Wide-eyed, I walked toward the noise. I realized as I was walking that the walls had turned to dirt. Everything was dirt. The sides, the ceiling, the floor, all dirt. As if someone had just started digging and made this hallway. The scene never changed. The entire cavern was dirt and it was lit by construction lights all the way through. The noise was getting louder. I started passing people. At first they looked disturbed and possibly homeless. Not unusual I thought for a makeshift hideaway in a subway system. I kept walking, a little on guard but still eager to see what lie ahead.

What I encountered as I came to a room at the end of the hallway was, to say the least, unnerving. There were people everywhere in this large dirt room. In fact, the hallway wasn’t really a hallway but a passage way to an integrated system of hallways and rooms. I looked around the room at people in varying degrees of decay and death. Some grotesquely injured, eyeless, horribly wounded but they were still living. I know this as they were all talking but I couldn’t make out what they were saying over the collective noise they were making. It looked like a battle scene after a bomb explosion. I kept walking onward down the hallway. The corridor system only went one direction, downward. It got darker and dirtier as I went. Dust hung in the air and I somehow lost my shoes. Barefoot, I went on trying to avoid decaying people, blood and human excrement. I was horrified by what I was witnessing but I needed to see what lie ahead. It was like a bad car accident, you want to look away but you can’t.

As I walked on the hallways got narrower and darker. The construction lights were farther and farther apart and it was hard to see. The rooms got more and more crowded with people. This time they were not decaying, they were angry. Posters and defaced pictures of families hung on the walls. The posters were scrawled with accusations and profanity, hastily written and fastened to the dirt walls. The pictures of happy families had similar writing on them and images written over the faces. The people were yelling at me, pleading their case for why they were there. Their behavior was disturbing, they chaotically ran about, yelling, trying to be heard and pointing to the posters and pictures for me to see. I was trying to read them, to take it in and hear their complaints but my mind was rushing about. The hallways and rooms were so small, it was hot and I was starting to panic. My head turned right and I saw a teenage boy, hair black as pitch and dirty trying to play a broken black electric guitar.

My mind slowed down and I came to. I had to get out of there, a girl was yelling at me as I turned around and started running. I had to find my way back. The people and the very walls of the caves were telling me that I couldn’t get out. There was no way but I didn’t listen. As I found hidden stairways, I went up. I knew if I went down, going up would get me out. I was desperate to find my way back to the city streets. As I found stairs, I used them, ignoring the voices that told me I couldn’t leave. Desperate to be spared I cried out to God, “Lord, please save me! Please get me out of here!” My last staircase brought me to a train station but I was not on the platform, I was in a baggage room and I had to squeeze through a tiny door where your luggage comes out to be free. It didn’t look like I’d fit but I was desperate to try. I was not alone others had found their way out and they were getting through. I scrambled to the doorway and stuck my head in. It was a struggle but I made it. The next thing I knew, I was in a courtyard of an outdoor shopping center. It was filled with tourists on cruises who had ported for the morning. They were all walking around discussing how great their vacations were going with one another. I walked up to a vendor selling wind chimes and bought a gigantic wind chime made out of kitchen utensils and pot lids. (Okay, this is a dream don’t forget) I took the wind chime and started walking home, barefoot and dirty, toward my parents house. I was anxious that they would be worried as it was now 8AM in the dream and I had been gone all night without so much as a phone call.

I woke up feeling unsettled. What could all that mean? I was so glad that I was able to get out in my dream. Most dreams like that involve running in circles and into dead ends until you awake with a start but in this one, I saw it out to completion. I was saved by God. He showed me the way out. I lay in bed, eyes open, wondering where all this came from. The decaying, disfigured people, the posters and pictures, the shouting. What did it all mean? I started to drift off again when my mind began sifting through the images like a shoe box of postcards. I saw what was there and I heard what the people were saying. They were grief-stricken by their lives. The accusations on the posters were about them and what they thought their loved ones had done to cause them such pain. The defaced pictures were their families, and the writing and the images on them was a constant reminder to the people in the caves that the smiling faces of well put together families, to them, was a lie. The injuries and decay I saw was the outward manifestation of how the dying people felt on the inside. The cave was their hell, their entrapment in their pain. There was a way out but they didn’t know it was there. They never bothered to find it. They had resigned themselves to the dark, dirty cave. They sealed their fate in their own mind. Prisoner to their grief.

That really is just it. So many people do this. I see them every day. They create internal, mental “hells” for themselves and almost subconsciously imprison themselves. As they stay in it, they get worse, never better. Downward they go, angrier and sadder they get. Unable to understand, there is a way out.

Grief comes in all forms. Deaths of loved ones, lost relationships, dysfunctional families, innocence of childhood lost, all kinds of grief. It is as simple as people mourning something they can’t have back or fixed. I found the way out in my dream and in my life. I cried out and asked God for help.