Lift Up Your Hearts!

This passage from David Allen's Ready for Anything blew me away, and deserves its own post.

We recently raised some prices—because I didn’t want business to go away.  Let me explain.  One day, I recognized a subtle internal danger signal:  There was the tiniest bit of an “uh-oh” feeling inside me each time we were asked to do more and more of a certain kind of work for a favorite client.  It was almost imperceptible, but it was there:  I didn’t want the phone to ring.  After many years of watching this dynamic, I knew that if I allowed those feelings to persist, indeed, the phone would stop ringing.  This client would go away.

I confronted the feeling and discovered the root of the problem:  We were underpriced for the amount of time and attention we had to commit to do our standard quality work.  I had to challenge myself with this question:  “What do I need to do to make me positively excited about the phone’s ringing again?”  The answer was simple:  Raise the price.  Then I could feel good about dedicating the time and energy we do to this client—and the more time, the merrier.

When your front line feels overwhelmed, watch out for resistance to new … opportunities!  When a ringing phone creates stress at the spinal level, though the words may be “Can I help you?” the underlying communication is, “Go away!  I can’t handle you!”

I'm certain there is application here far beyond the business model, and that many families, friendships, projects, and resolutions are suffering because we fail to heed that internal danger signal and then do the often difficult work of figuring out how to arrange that we embrace, rather than avoid or resent, a situation.

When Porter goes out of town on business, his company pays a small amount to cover the cost of getting to and from the airport.  If we drive, I get most of that allowance to spend however I please, completely off-budget.  Why should that matter?  Our budget already contains a “hobby” category for each of us that serves the same purpose, and I could always make a strong case for fitting most of my expenditures into the regular budget anyway.  So why is my “taxi fund” so important to me?

Because Porter flies on a lot of airplanes, and the airport is 45 minutes away from home.  Usually he leaves really early in the morning and returns late at night.  What the taxi fund does is completely quell my inner reluctance to arise at a ridiculous hour—or worse, stay up late—and make the long drive.  Granted, I should be happy to do this just because it makes life easier for him and he really appreciates it, but I’m a sinful human being, and this really, really helps.  I enjoy the extra effort because I have so much fun with my taxi fund.

I once read, for an education course, a book by Robert Mager and Peter Pipe called Analyzing Performance Problems:  Or, You Really Oughta Wanna.  I don’t remember anything else that the book covered, but the idea that “you really oughta wanna” is a poor motivator has stayed with me for more than 35 years.  That is so true.  Actually, I find it more of a de-motivator.

There are many areas of life in which a seemingly small change could make a huge difference in attitude.  The Daleys’ new bedtime cleanup ritual is another example.  It was a minor change with very low cost that made a disproportionate, and delightful, difference in their lives.

We have a jelly jar to fill up with colorful glass gems….  Each evening at clean up time, we set a timer for fifteen minutes.  For every minute left on the timer … [the children] get to put a bead in the jar.  A bonus of five beads is awarded if the whole house is clean before we even start the timer (motivating clean up before the evening even arrives!).  A penalty of three beads is subtracted if the parental inspection reveals that the house is not clean despite the boys' statement that it is.

The reward for a full jar of beads is a special treat selected by the boys.  The most recent one was to watch a VeggieTales movie.

This works so well for our family.  Now, even if it takes the whole fifteen minutes and they get no beads, the job is done in that short time—in the past sometimes it would take until they were falling into bed and still not be done, really.  The past several days they have gotten most of their beads and even the bonus twice!  The jar is now half full again though it was reset only a few days ago!  The house is noticeably cleaner (ask my Mom who just visited!).  I know I'm using a lot of exclamation points, but I am so happy that this is working out.  Everyone benefits and it is turning out to be really fun.

Both of these examples involve money, or a form of money.  There’s a reason money was invented:  it’s quantifiable and convenient.  In many situations, however, overcoming our gut-level reluctance is not so simple.  We will need to think creatively and differently to find the key.  The most vital step, however, is recognizing our inner qualms and the importance—and efficacy—of adjusting the parameters.

Any ideas?