Author Archives: Sherri

Learn to Play Chess

When I was a kid, my Dad taught me to play chess.  I only realize now, in my late 50’s, what incredible perseverance my Dad had.  I couldn’t have been more than 6 or 8 when he taught me and I doubt I had much patience with the game.  He seemed to agonize over which move he would make.  I did not.  Or at least not at first.  However, learning to play chess was worth the effort.  Chess is a wonderful metaphor for decision making in general.  More specifically, for the importance of thinking through the consequences of your decisions as well as “thinking several moves ahead” of your current position.

As many of you know, I grew up in Atlanta, Georgia, which has a storied history with kudzu.  Kudzu is a vine native to Japan that was introduced in the US at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition in 1876.  It was soon brought to the south as an ornamental vine to shade porches and backyards.  The big purple flower just added to the appeal.  Kudzu proved to be a hardy, fast growing vine.  Since Southern farmers had just about thoroughly depleted the soil by growing so much cotton, the government decided to push kudzu planting to stem major soil erosion.  What could go wrong?

What went wrong is that kudzu quite literally took over the South. The Atlanta of my youth was one big kudzu covered mound.  No one apparently voiced concern that kudzu was not native to the area, so the natural forces that kept it in check might not be there.  The vine was uncontrollable, even choking out forests.  By the mid-70’s, kudzu covered 7 million acres of land in the south.  In recent years, the effort has focused on eradication—everything from herbicides to goats to another Japanese import, Megacopta cribraria, a bug that’s been chomping its way through kudzu growth since it landed accidently (probably through the airport) around 2009—and, yes, we don’t know yet what else it might chomp through.  (Thank you to the Atlanta Journal Constitution for these fun kudzu facts.)

My point is this:  no one took the time, back in 1876 when it was first brought over, or in the 1930’s and ‘40s when kudzu was purposely introduced to control erosion, to ask the question about what might happen next.  Examples abound in our casual abuse of nature, since she has had about 4 billion years to evolve a beautiful balance and we seem to be able to upset that balance in decades or less.  But there are plenty of other examples of not thinking a few steps ahead across our lives.

Let’s take active involvement in deposing a horrible dictator, like Sadam Hussein or Mummar Khadafi.  Both were horrible, violent rulers.  Few in our society could argue that they should be stopped.  However, in both Iraq and Libya, where the US was either very publicly or more covertly involved in removing those dictators, the aftermath was a mess.  Why?  Because as horrible strong men, they kept their countries together by force.  In the absence of that force, there was a vacuum of control and violent civil wars ensued.  Let’s remember that these areas are tribal lands and have been for thousands of years before the winners of WWII drew “country” boundaries. Allegiances were always more to the tribe than to the country as a whole.  While this probable outcome was no surprise to many who understand these lands and people, there was still very little effort put into the “post-deposition” plan.  Tens or hundreds of thousands of people died.  It’s important to think a few steps ahead.

There are many examples each one of you could think of in your workplaces or in your home life.  How about the very common situation of a company needing to reduce costs to improve profitability?  While I would love to get on my soapbox about “you can’t save your way to profitability,” cost reduction schemes often get companies a quick boost on Wall Street.  I’ve been through those discussions about who loses their jobs (the only real way to save quick bucks).  You can’t just pick off the biggest salaries or the people least likely to sue.  You must think through how a person fits into the organization, the skills they bring (both technical and personal), who depends on their output, who can pick up the slack or how you can make the work go away.  I say “you must” but we all know that rarely happens effectively or at all.  And even if you try, there are always consequences you can’t effectively mitigate.  However, most of the time, managers don’t think several steps ahead and the consequences can be disastrous and long lasting.

Another common situation is how people choose a car.  I want that sleek looking coupe!  Too bad I didn’t think about how to get a car seat in the back or, even worse, how my elderly Mom is going to get in and out of the front seat (or her walker not fitting in the non-existent trunk).  Then there are the people who really, really, really want to drive a luxury car but can’t afford to buy a new one.  They are focused on their monthly car payment, so they either buy a used car or lease one.  What they often don’t think about is the cost to insure a luxury car vs. a more modest vehicle.  Or the cost to maintain or repair one.  Or even the need to use premium fuel vs. 87 octane.  I applaud those that think about the full cost of ownership.  I also know you are rare.

Just as it is critically important to ask five successive “why” questions when trying to identify a real root cause problem, it is equally important to ask a few successive “what” questions when thinking about the consequences of a decision or action.  Ask yourself: “If I make this decision, what do I expect to happen, both good and bad?”  What steps could you take to mitigate the bad things that might happen and what other things might THOSE actions cause?  Go down a few levels.  Then try that with a different decision.  Think a few steps ahead, just like you would in a chess game.  What seems like a good move at first can be disastrous.  And what seems like a wimpy move could end up leading you to win the game.

There’s a bit of a thought flow developing here.  First we discussed identifying the REAL problem you are trying to solve.  Today we discussed thinking through the consequences of your decision to help choose the most favorable path.  Coming up is a more thorough treatment of “consequences”, leading to one of my favorite topics (OK, it’s more of a hot button)—taking personal responsibility for your actions.  Stay tuned!

What Problem are you REALLY Trying to Solve?

If you are a regular reader of my essays, you know that I have been gifted with a number of wonderful bosses and mentors throughout my life and career.  At some point, we’ll discuss some of the non-wonderful ones but not today.  I am reminded often of a lesson that another of my favorite bosses taught me.  This lesson came during the “at the lab bench” part of my career.  My lab mates and I were working on developing new chemical products to solve a particular need we saw in the market or trying to solve customers’ problems with existing products we were already selling.  We would often have heated discussions during project review meetings, arguing about the proper pathway or the interpretation of data.  Our boss, known for being quiet until he wasn’t, would listen for a while and then cut us off with his favorite line:  “What problem are you really trying to solve?”

We’d stop talking, mouths open mid-word.  We’d look at each other.  One brave person would try to frame the question.  Another would disagree.  We’d start talking over each other again and he would cut off discussion once more:  What. Problem.  Are you.  REALLY. Trying to solve?  We’d try again and in a few minutes we’d have agreement on what the real issue was.  Amazingly, alignment on next steps came quickly after that. 

This concept of stopping up front to define the true issue or problem is broadly applicable.  Everyone has assumptions they’ve made about the REAL problem, but usually those assumptions are not verified.  I’ll stay away from controversial political examples (of which there are many) and give a simple household one.  Let’s say you have a water stain on your kitchen ceiling.  Well, you have a stain.  Saying it’s a water stain is an assumption.  The easiest thing to do would be to get out some paint and paint over it.  Problem solved.  Until it comes back.  Then you hit it with KILZ and paint.  Proud of yourself, you keep one eye on the ceiling and go on about your life.  Dangit.  It came back again!  The issue is that the problem you are trying to solve is not the stain.  That’s the symptom.  The real problem is that you have a water leak in the bathroom upstairs.  Not as easy to fix, but you can paint that ceiling 900 times and if you don’t fix the REAL problem, the stain will always come back.

It’s human nature to look for easy fixes.  Sometimes they actually work but most of the time they don’t.  Not getting enough breakthroughs in R&D?  Fire and replace the staff.  Not getting enough traction in the market for your new product?  Take out more ads.  Not able to hire and retain reliable staff?  Must be the talent pool. Finding and then owning the REAL problem takes work. No one wants to hear that they have made the wrong investments in R&D strategy or that the product they introduced does not meet the market need or that their skills as a manager and leader do not attract top talent.

One method I like to use is “The Five Whys”, often employed in Root Cause Analysis studies.  The basics of this technique are simple:  when trying to identify a true, underlying issue, ask “Why” at least five times.  To see how the technique works, let’s try out the five Whys on a simple problem.  How about the “hypothetical” issue of my weight gain in the last few years:

1.  Why have you put on weight, Sherri?  Well, I’m older now and have been through “The Change”.  It happens.

2.  Why would getting older and going through said Change cause you to put on weight?  Um, my metabolism has dropped.  My body doesn’t use calories the same way anymore.  Happens to every woman.  Nothing I can do about it.  Oh, and Trish has taught me to enjoy a glass of nice wine regularly.

3. Why would your metabolism changing (and the regular glass of wine) cause you to gain weight?  Well…I guess I don’t use as many calories anymore for energy.  And wine has more calories than water.

4.  Why would more calories and less efficient usage of them cause you to gain weight?  I’m taking in more calories than I’m burning, Einstein.  That’s the only reason people gain weight.

5.  Don’t get snippy.  Why are you taking in more calories than you are burning?  Sigh.  Because I need to control portion size and perhaps gets to spin class more often.

Getting to the REAL problem has a few key advantages.  First, you design solutions that get at the source of the problem and not a symptom.  Second, you are forced to face a more complex or simply “less fun” solution than you might really prefer to pursue.  Third, as in the case above, you are forced to take personal responsibility for the solution instead of playing the victim, which I will plumb in more detail in a future essay.

Now the above was a rather obvious example.  For more complex issues, you can find yourself really surprised by the answers to those third, fourth and fifth “whys”.  Wouldn’t it be nice to see this process used on the more intractable issues of our day, such as drug overuse, immigration, gun violence, environmental policy, tax policy, even trade?  I’d sure like to see us get at solutions to the real problem instead of reacting to a symptom.  These are complex issues requiring multi-faceted solutions.

Recognizing the importance of identifying the root problem is also key in creating strong relationships.  During my career, I facilitated countless discussions involving employee disputes.  The gratifying outcome is they usually solved the problem themselves.  My role was getting them to actually LISTEN to each other, discover what incorrect assumptions they were making about each other’s behavior, and get them to articulate the real issue between them.  Once that was achieved, resolution usually happened quickly.  I try to use this thought process in my personal life, as well.  Don’t assume what is driving someone’s behavior.  Get to the root issue behind the disagreements and own your piece of it.

I’ve vacillated on how to end this essay.  I could implore you to apply this goal of identifying underlying causes as you think about the big issues of today.  I could remind you that the first challenge in getting to the real problem is untested, unarticulated assumptions (which you know is a favorite topic of mine).  But I think I’m going to end this way:  give yourself and others around you a little grace.  We’ve all got so much going on, that it seems almost impossible to take the time and mental effort to get at the real problem, bust through the blame game and fight the desire for a simple solution.  Yes, you have to pick your battles.  But please pick them.  Problems, big and small, will never get fixed until you understand what problem you’re really trying to solve.

The Most Important Leadership Quality

Now, THAT is a presumptuous title for an essay!  Teasing out critical leadership characteristics is an entire field of study that many people wiser than me have devoted their lives to figuring out.  And making the assumption that I can give that topic any sort of decent treatment in a 1000 or so word essay is probably brave.  So let me start out by saying that these thoughts are mine and mine alone, and built from no more rigorous research than what I have observed over my life and career.

I have had the opportunity to study leadership in many a training class and seminar.  I have been to Leadership Development camps designed by two different multi-billion dollar, multi-national companies.  I have even been fortunate enough to have had a personal leadership coach.  Go on the web, search “top leadership characteristics” and you’ll get a slew of lists from Forbes to Tony Robbins to the Center for Creative Leadership.  They usually contain such stalwarts as integrity, ability to delegate, ability to inspire, communication skills, decisiveness, and passion.  All good qualities, to be sure.  And while I hesitate to pick one that stands out from all the rest, I’m going to do it anyway.

I believe the most important characteristic of a good leader is humility.

Let’s think about that for a minute.  To be “humble” as I use the word here is “to have or show a modest estimate of one’s own importance.” (Dictionary.com)  That doesn’t seem to jive with many of the characteristics noted above, which are often high energy and forceful.  One thinks of a humble person as deferential and quiet.  Not what we think of when we think of a “strong leader”.  I beg to differ.  I propose that the effectiveness of those other characteristics is directly correlated with the level of humility that the leader embodies.

The importance of this concept was really driven home to me during my stint leading one particular Intertek business.  Because of distance and other responsibilities, I was only on site for one or two days a week—and that was when I wasn’t traveling somewhere else.  This type of management is only possible if you have a strong #2 on site every day.  When I first took over the business, I inherited a very strong personality as my second in command, one who had been with this particular business for decades, long before Intertek purchased it.  Our working relationship took no small effort to build since he naturally thought that HE should be leading the business, not me.  He quickly realized that since I was physically there only a relatively small amount of time, he could just do what he wanted (to a point) while I wasn’t there.   The “what” he did wasn’t a huge problem.  He ran the day-to-day operations and there wasn’t too much wiggle in the “what”.  It was the “how” that was the big problem.  I would catch him summoning people to his office for regular yelling sessions.  And he would always summon them to him—I rarely saw him walking the halls.  He led through intimidation one minute and then, maybe after he read an article in the Harvard Business Review, would suddenly get poetic about the importance of personal accountability (in others).  You never knew which personality you would get from day to day, although he always managed to be deferential to me and to others when he knew I was watching.  As much as this behavior gnawed at me, I did not take immediate action because I needed him: he really knew the business!  Finally, as a prelude to putting him on a Performance Improvement Plan, I sat him down for a talk.  “The most important quality in a leader is humility,” I told him, to start the conversation.  We talked a lot about his “how”.  He refuted every statement I made.  Within a week, he quit.  And while he left a big hole to fill, the majority of the organization heaved a sigh of relief.

What drives a leader’s behavior can be a tricky topic of discussion, especially when you are talking with other leaders as opposed to those they lead.  Let’s be honest:  the perceived power of many leadership positions drives ego.  We’ve all fallen prey to it now and then.  But what really should drive a leader is the awesome responsibility of the position as it relates to the people who are depending upon you to make decisions that impact their wellbeing.  The larger the leadership position, the greater the impact on a larger group of people and the greater the probability that each decision will impact some more positively than others.  Finding and owning that balance requires introspection and deep personal ownership of the outcome.

Humility is what causes a leader to recognize that she doesn’t have all the right answers all the time.  She has the confidence to seek true counsel, not just confirmation of her positions.  The humble leader remembers that the real work gets done by others and she needs to focus first on making sure they have what they need to be successful.  Her success is dependent upon their success.  What they need is a well-articulated direction and strategy and the tools to execute, not required blind adherence to a set of rules not explained.

Humble leaders don’t lead through fear and intimidation.  They lead through motivation.  Employees respect him.  And he’s earned their respect, in turn, by respecting and valuing them for what they bring to the table.  The difference between a good business and a great business is that extra bit of effort an employee chooses to give: that extra bit of attention to a report; that extra bit of time with a customer on the phone; that extra question they ask themselves about the quality of their work that causes them to choose to spend more time to get it right.  People want to work for the humble leader and give that extra bit of effort because they know he will notice.  They know he will say “thank you”—and mean it. 

She has no real problem finding and retaining strong employees.  When something goes wrong, the humble leader does not ask who’s at fault but rather “what can we learn from this?”  And the humble leader does not blame “conditions outside of my control” for her struggles, but rather asks “what can I do differently next time?” She does not shirk personal responsibility and accountability. The humble leader is not “soft”.  She will discipline as needed and do so quickly—the whole organization is depending upon her to do just that.

We’ve all worked for both types of leaders—those more humble and those infinitely impressed with themselves (and who seem to desire your constant confirmation of it).  I don’t have to ask who you prefer working with.  I’ve tried to be a humble leader when at all possible.  I have not been 100% successful and look back with a bit of embarrassment at those times when I was more caught up in the position than being respectful of what the position required of me.  I learned the humility lesson over time and through seeing the huge difference it made when I took a more humble approach.  If you are a newer leader, give some thought to this concept.  Save yourself some time and pain!  Get over yourself now and you will have a lot more to be proud of over the length of your career.

Transitioning to Retirement (Part III)

This essay is my last installment (for now) on the process I’ve identified for transitioning into retirement.  The first two essays in this series described that process and explored the first three steps in detail.  Today, I’m going to take you through the last two steps and leave you with some final thoughts on this exciting time in your life.

When we last left our riveting story, I was struggling with what to do with my time once I had detoxed from thirty years of intense work and had enjoyed months of stress-free endless vacation time.  Alas, all good things must come to an end and I started to get “rutchey” (for those of you who don’t know Pennsylvania Dutch, it means I got “shpilkes”).  One of the first forays I made into “doing something that means something” was reaching out to a local woman’s college and offering myself to their Chemistry Department.  I wanted to mentor young women going into the sciences, giving them the benefit of my years of hard won wisdom.  At first, they were thrilled.  But since I brought the idea to them instead of being “recruited”, the responsibility to define the nature of engagement fell to me.  I gave a presentation to their upper classmen, who clearly did NOT get my humor and didn’t know what to do with me. The professors really only wanted me to get them free help to fix and maintain analytical instruments.  Over a fairly short period of time, I got tired of the hour drive up to the Valley and definitely tired of the effort required on my part to gain acceptance.  I felt like I was pushing myself on them and had already spent too many years pushing, pushing, pushing to advance in my career.  No, this wasn’t what I wanted.  Not now.  So, I stopped showing up and they didn’t seem to care.

Could I have made a real difference there?  Absolutely.  I could have spent a lot more time on campus and developed a detailed structure to guide my interactions with students, faculty and staff.  With time and persistence, I could have built a place for myself there that I know would have made a difference for them and for me.  And, in fact, they did ask if I’d consider being an adjunct professor and teach some lab sections.  (Trish and I were starting to travel more and I wasn’t about to make a commitment to a semester of teaching that would curtail that!)  But this wasn’t the Catharsis I was looking for.  I took on a few short consulting gigs that basically involved me pontificating on the phone and getting paid $250 an hour.  THAT I really enjoyed!  But, again, I was happy letting those opportunities come to me instead of searching them out and marketing my knowledge. 

Then I got a phone call from the President of an industry group that I’d been involved in for years.  I was even serving on their Board of Directors when I left Intertek.  The request was to come on board as a Project Manager of an initiative that I had championed when I was on the Board.  I was really excited about the topic!  I said No.  He called again.  I said No again.  Just as a rabbi makes you knock on the door a third time as a way of demonstrating commitment before you can convert to Judaism, I waited for that third call.  Trish encouraged me to go visit them and give it a hard look.  She could see the passion in my eyes and hear it in my voice.  She knew this was something I wanted to do.  I had reached Stage Four:  Catharsis.

I signed a one year contract and over that time was able to advance a passion around Innovation Leadership training into a reality.  Did everything go perfectly?  Emphatically no.  Did I achieve all I wanted to achieve in that time period?  No again.  But, boy, did I enjoy that year!  I reconnected with a number of people whom I really respected and enjoyed being with.  They validated that I still had solid ideas and perspectives which was quite healing.  (I was even presented with about a half dozen job opportunities, should I have wished to have gotten back into an industrial position.)  And, I put together a product that I felt fulfilled my vision on what this educational tool should do.  I even recruited my successor.  That year of contract work was exactly what I needed.  But the one year was enough.  I had entered a New Normal (Stage 5) but that didn’t mean it was permanent. 

There certainly are people who go through this cycle once and embrace a New Normal that will last the rest of their lives.  That is awesome but it is not my story.  I lost my energy around the topic of Innovation Leadership which had been a part of my life for so long. Once I handed over project leadership I went right back into Detox.  Did I consider this a failure?  No, not by a long shot.  I realized that this cycle of transition is going to continue for the rest of my life.  I know I’m still growing, learning and evolving.  For thirty years, that happened in the context of an industrial career.  I changed position and focus multiple times over that period.  Now I’m a freelancer and those changes will happen outside of the umbrella of a single context.

A lot of changes have already happened over the time since I left Intertek.  I moved.  I got married.  I integrated into my tight family of in-laws.  I began to travel.  I got onto a sharp growth curve, this one more personal than professional.  My desire to write began to build again.  I had written a piece about my old synagogue that was published a decade ago and the impact of that essay was brought home to me again last year. I went to the Bat Mitzvah of the young girl at the center of that story.  The Rabbi read my essay as his message to her and it brought back to me the joy I got from writing.  Then last fall was that horrendous mass shooting at a synagogue in Pittsburgh.  It affected me more than I realized and an essay came pouring out.  I posted it on Facebook.  The response I got was unexpected and blew me away.  I could reach people with my words.  It’s something I’ve always wanted to do.  Now was the time to try it.

That was my most recent Catharsis and led to the creation of this blog.  I have thoroughly enjoyed the process thus far and am under no illusion that I will become a viral sensation.  (Although, Oprah, if you’d like to talk with me about my thoughts I’m easily reachable.)  I also know that this is not my last cycle through the Five Stages of Transitioning to Retirement.  At some point, the need to grow will push me again.  I have no idea what direction I might move toward and I’m excited to find out!  I know I am blessed to have the means to let this process lead me where it may.  And I am doubly blessed to have all of you join me on this journey!

Transitioning to Retirement (Part II)

In my last essay, Transitioning to Retirement (Part I), I introduced you to my five step process for managing the abrupt change from work into retirement.  Those five steps are: Detox, Endless Vacation, What Day is it?, Catharsis and The New Normal.  After a brief description of each of those stages, I dove a bit deeper into Detox.  Today, we are going to tackle the next two steps:  Endless Vacation and What Day is it?  The first is probably the most enjoyable time you will ever have in your life.  The second will be one of the most disconcerting. 

As you may remember, the timing of my move into retirement was not exactly of my own choosing.  That sort of intensity change, from 110 miles per hour to about zero overnight, can leave you numb and at a bit of a loss for what to do when your eyes open in the morning.  I was lucky in that I saw my probable unemployment coming for several months and had some time to prepare (if not anticipate).  My Detox time really only lasted a couple of weeks and even that may be generous.  I was just done.  That last year was so exhausting and mentally debilitating, and I was close enough to my planned retirement year, that I just said “enough”.  I knew I wasn’t going back to full time work.

As luck would have it, I was “retired” in late June.  I still woke up with the early morning sun, but now my days stretched in front of me with glorious…..glorious……What is the word I’m looking for?  Not laziness, although there was plenty of that.  Not nothingness, because it wasn’t that either.  Leisure!  Glorious leisure!  Think about those times you had a long weekend, like Memorial Day or maybe July 4th.  Maybe you tacked on a few extra days and stretched it into a week or so.  Maybe you went to the shore or the mountains.  Maybe you just stayed home.  But you looked in front of you and thought, “Wow.  I have X days to just live before I have to go back to work!”  Then that time just sped by and before you knew it, there was that pit in your stomach.  “I’d better check e-mail, just to know what’s waiting for me.”  You start thinking about what you know is coming up and then about what might be coming up and then you start thinking about some of the people you’ll have to deal with and….it’s over.

It’s fitting that I started drafting this essay while in Aruba for a week.  Those weeks in Aruba over the years (yes, some people actually LIKE their timeshares) were wonderful and tragic at the same time.  Lying in the sun, feeding lettuce to iguanas, reading for pleasure…all gave me a taste of what “it” could be like.  This time, though, the end of the trip brought no additional sadness beyond missing those iguanas.  OK, some frustration at the lines for immigration and the 45 minutes it took PHL to unload the luggage, but Monday just brought a return to spin class.  Painful as that was after a week off, it was still enjoyable!

So, what will you do during your Endless Vacation phase?  Depends on your personality and your “if I only had time” list.  For me, it was taking long walks on local trails, reading for pleasure, and taking naps.  (Although I quickly learned that I was not allowed to take naps in view of Trish when she was working from home.)  For others, it might be cleaning out the garage or tackling the yard or going to see friends you haven’t seen in ages.  The key to the Endless Vacation stage is that whatever you do, you are doing it for pleasure.  While most of us need a sense of purpose at some level, that does not apply to this wondrous phase.  You will (hopefully) just do whatever you want to do.  Allow yourself this time.  You’ve earned it, darn it.  And if you jump too quickly into something too demanding, guess what?  You’ll just end up back in Detox.  A note to those of you that do end up moving into a different yet demanding responsibility after you retire, such as caring for an aging parent or taking on a consulting role or going back for another degree.  You haven’t retired; you’ve simply moved on to another job.  Your Detox and Endless Vacation will come later, maybe never if you enjoy being that busy (or are required to be that busy).  I do recognize that what I’m describing will be seen by many as a luxury.  I hope you all get to enjoy it at some point.

When do you know when Endless Vacation has come to an end?  I don’t remember exactly when this happened (and that should be a clue), but it was warm enough for me to be wearing shorts and for us to be sitting outside.  I had met a good friend from my Air Products days, along with her husband, for lunch.  They had moved out of town when she retired and were coming back to the area for a visit.  That morning, knowing that I had a real activity on my calendar, I showered early and put on “going out” khaki shorts and a real shirt.  I was excited!  I met “Mary” and “Chuck” at a favorite nearby restaurant and we had a wonderful time catching up.  We talked about retiring and how our lives had changed.  We laughed about how things that we used to fit into lunch hours or after work on the way home, had become the entire focus of a day.  As we wound up our time together and rose to say goodbye, Chuck asked me what else I was planning on doing that day.  I hesitated a second.  Then said, “I met you two for lunch!  Isn’t that enough?” 

As I drove home, exhausted by having been out for several hours and actually interacting with people, I thought to myself, “Sherri, I think you need something a little more engaging in your life.”  Endless Vacation was ending.  I was entering the realm of What Day is it?  I had been waking up in the morning not knowing what day it was because I had no schedule.  At first it was liberating.  Then it became a little frightening.  When I started Endless Vacation, I had looked forward to just sitting in one of our many reading chairs and reading for hours, meandering through the pile of books I had bought over the years and still wanted to read.  But now, an hour or so of reading is enough. Endless Vacation meant I could look forward to taking long walks every day.  But now after that long walk there was a lot of not moving and much snacking.  At the start of Endless Vacation I was able to take naps whenever I wanted!  But now I was falling asleep after going grocery shopping.  I had gotten bored.

It was time to start thinking about how I wanted my daily life to evolve.  Instead of planning for the future, I’m finally living in the present.  So, what does that look like for me?  How much of a time commitment did I want to make to something?  To an organization?  To an activity?  What could I get lost in?  What would be the output of this “something” and what would I do with it?  I honestly hadn’t given much thought to my post-full-time-work life except that I wanted to travel.  And even that raised questions:  Where?  Why?  I’m a goal oriented, outcome driven person.  What did that mean in my “retirement”?  As I noodled on these questions I tried some ideas out in “thought experiments” and rejected one after another.  Then I got a phone call that led to my first Catharsis.  We’ll pick up on that next time!

The Transition to Retirement–Part I

In the late 1960’s, Swiss psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross published On Death and Dying, in which she described the five stages of grief:  Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.  I became familiar with this theory a decade later when the 99¢ theatre I worked at in high school (yes, that was a thing and yes, I’m that old) showed Roy Scheider in All That Jazz. The film’s climax involves the lead character going through these five stages with much music, drama and “jazz hands”.

Anyway, the thesis I would like to present over the next few essays is that, similar to the grieving process (in more ways than one), there are five stages of transitioning into retirement.  You MUST progress through all five, in order.  Residence time in each stage will depend upon your unique situation.  Recycling is allowed.  Herewith, the five stages that we will explore:

  1. Detox, in which our protagonist does basically nothing (except a little drooling) to allow the trauma of the workplace to leave the system;
  2. Endless Vacation, in which our hero finally realizes that there is no pit in the stomach on Sunday nights, begins to relax, and starts doing all those things on the “when I retire” list.  Note that this particular list is not filled with admirable things like “giving back” or “producing something of value”.  This list includes “sleeping as late as I want”, “exercising whenever I want; or not”, “making an entire day out of going to the bank” and other low stress activities.
  3. What Day is it? when our central character suddenly realizes that, um, maybe a little structure in my life is a good thing.
  4. Catharsis, in which our star sifts through the possibilities of “things I want to do” that are a bit more constructive, tries a few on for size, and finds something that actually feels good.
  5. The New Normal, in which our champion finishes the transition to retirement—for the time being.  Note that you are allowed to cycle through these steps as many times as you’d like, as you tire of whatever “new normal” you’ve settled upon.

So, let’s take a leisurely stroll through these stages.  I’ll use my own experience as an example, of course, along with those of others I know.  Identities will be lightly disguised as necessary since I don’t really plan to ask people permission to write about them.

Stage 1:  Detox

Everyone must go through detox!  There will be temptation to hurry through.  Don’t do it.  You NEED this time.  If you rush into something right away because you feel you should be busy, you will just delay detox until you DO finally sit still.  There is most likely a direct correlation between stress level in the job and needed detox time—and an inverse correlation with level of preparedness for what comes next.  Sit there and drool.  Walk in the woods.  Binge watch Game of Thrones.  Let your brain do what it needs to do.  A lucky few people will have found their passion early enough to make it their career.  Most of us find a career first and our passion only comes to the surface later.  Let it come. 

Everyone has their own detox story.  The first I’ll share is from a colleague I’ll call “David”.   David was about a decade older than me and someone who I always felt was too nice for someone so senior in the organization.  We’d have business lunches together, but rarely talk about business.  When he reached “Rule of 80,” I asked him why he didn’t retire right then.  (Rule of 80 was a benefit wherein if you were 55 and had at least 25 years of service, you could retire and start pulling your full pension right away.  It was my dream to reach Rule of 80 at 55.)  He said, “Once I hit the KMA [Kiss My Ass] Day, I realized I could walk anytime I wanted and my stress level immediately dropped.  I decided I’d stay a bit longer.”  David had a LOT of volunteer activities going on outside of work:  with his church, at a local fishing lake,  with Engineers without Borders, etc.  When he did finally retire, he said to me, “Well, it finally got to the point that I just didn’t have time to work anymore.”  I’m guessing David’s detox time was about as long as his drive home.

At the other end of the spectrum was “Steve”.  At the time I let Steve go, I was managing a support organization within Air Products and our budget was funded by the businesses.  We sold a business and I needed to let one headcount go to account for that loss of budget.  I hated firing people.  My fire to hire ratio at Air Products was about 30:1 because of the difficult times (remember the Great Recession?).  Steve had been roaming the halls for years, loudly stating that he wanted “a package”.  This meant a healthy severance check as he walked out the door.  Steve was entirely retirement eligible and his primary role was supporting the business that had just been sold.  This would be the easiest firing I’d ever done!  On the day Steve was brought to my office, I launched into the perfunctory business case.  The look on his face—you would have thought I’d just killed his dog!  Then he lost his temper and yelled at me for 10 minutes on how loyal an employee he’d been!  I was stunned.  Turns out, Steve wasn’t ready.  He hadn’t thought about what was next for him much less considered the need to detox.  He wanted to work until he didn’t and THEN he wanted that package.  I sped up his timing and it shook him.  I’m guessing Steve’s detox took months. 

My situation was somewhere between those two.  I started thinking about retirement about a nanosecond after I started working.  Don’t get me wrong—I had a great career with many satisfying achievements and good memories.  I was focused on what I needed to do in whatever role I was in, cognizant of the number of people depending upon me to do a good job.  However, if I hit the lottery, my resignation letter would have been on my boss’ desk the next day.  I’m not one of those people who, supposedly, “never worked a day in [their] life!” because they so loved what they did.  I worked and I worked hard.  For a long time.  And from the beginning, I planned my finances so that, should I choose at the time, I could retire when I turned 55.  This dream was strongly reinforced in my 40’s as colleagues I was close to started to reach that milestone and march off into the sunset.  I would meet them for lunch or dinner occasionally and see how much happier and younger they looked, hear about their adventures, and generally be pissed off that I still had 10 years to go.

I lost my job when I was about a year away from turning 55.  I saw it coming.  I was not heartbroken.  But it was still a shock when it DID happen.  I came home that day with a shell shocked grin (if that can happen).  My detox took a couple of weeks, on and off.

When will you know you’ve had enough time to detox?  Well, the best way I can describe it is that you’ll wake up one morning and suddenly realize you are seeing in color again.  Then it’s time to move on to Stage 2:  Endless Vacation.  We’ll pick up on that next time.

It’s Not About the Decision

Air Products, like many large companies, ran a rotational assignments program for new employees in engineering and R&D.  It was a great way to get to know the company and get experience in several different areas.  I myself benefited from that program.  Over the years, I coached many young scientists through the process of choosing their next rotation or their roll-off position.  These kids agonized about their choices!  “If I take an assignment here,” one would say, “it could set me up for this pathway.  But if I take an assignment there, it could set me up for this alternative possibility.”  “What if I choose this assignment,” another would ask, “and they end up closing down the project?”  Weeks would go by.  Interviews.  Discussions.  Pro and con tables.  More discussion.  Finally, I would encourage them with this thought:  It’s not about the decision itself, it’s about what you do once you’ve made the decision.  In other words, it’s more important that whatever you decide, you give it 100% effort.  You don’t look backward.  You don’t second guess.  Your performance in a role will determine your opportunities, not so much the role itself.

Don’t get me wrong.  Establishing a decision-making process is important.  But at some point, you have choices that are all above a certain threshold of “goodness”, and further agonizing is not going to add more value.  At this point, success is more determined by what you do once you’ve made the decision.  There is not a single pathway to success and happiness.  Many different choices can get you there—if you put your all into making it work.

Think about how you’ve made some of the most pivotal decisions in your life:  Where you went to school.  Where you decided to live.  Who you married.  Various job changes.  In some cases, those were highly considered multi-layered decisions.  In other cases, much less so.  I think about how I made the decision to go to Goucher College.  I knew I wanted a school known for its chemistry program.  I knew I wanted a smaller institution.  I knew I wanted to live away from home.  That narrowed down the choices, but left many others!  Mom, Dad and I made a campus visit one beautiful fall morning and that was it:  I went Early Decision and committed to acceptance on my application.  My choice of college led to my choice of grad school which led to my first job which led to living in the Lehigh Valley and all that came with that.  I could have chosen another college and chances are it would have led down a totally different path.  Is that a good or a bad thing?  I don’t think it needs to be considered either one.  My life surely would have been different, but most likely (hopefully) equally successful and happy. 

I also think about how my career progressed.  It sounds like a well thought out plan—one role leading to the next, building a set of skills that opened up other opportunities.  Those opportunities added more experiences that opened up other roles until I ended up as Vice President of a collection of North American businesses.  The reality?  I had no idea what I wanted to do.  I had no idea of even the breadth of opportunities that were open to me!  I took a job that looked fun and rewarding.  When another opportunity presented itself at a time I was ready for change, I took it.  That process repeated itself many times over.  Each step along the way, I refined my preferences.  I got a better sense of the alternative paths open to me and what skills and experiences I’d need to attain.  My “preferred pathway” changed many times. 

There was one constant in all of this:  I learned to focus my all on the job I was doing, not on the job I thought I wanted next.  I wasn’t always successful, but when I failed to do my best, it usually meant I had moved into a role that wasn’t really right for me.  I’d make a change and try again. 

That brings up an important corollary to this theorem.  Don’t let any misstep lead you to believe that you are destined to failure.  It emphatically does NOT—not if you keep giving each new opportunity your all.  Life sometimes gives you a little nudge to get you on the right path.  Some of my biggest professional disappointments ultimately led me to some of the most successful and gratifying phases of my career. 

I have been incredibly fortunate in my career and life.  I was drawn to a field that was in demand at the time I graduated.  I happened upon a string of managers and mentors who helped me improve my skills each step of the way.  And I learned to keep plowing through during the tough times, yet made some good choices when it was time to shift lanes.  I was blessed with parents that taught me to value knowledge, believe in myself, and comport myself with integrity.  But more than anything else, I had been given the gift of understanding early on that there are few truly bad decisions.  There is just the need to make a commitment and put in the effort to get the best out of each decision you make.

Find Something You Can Like and Something You Can Learn

I’ve mentioned that I have been very lucky in life to have just the right mentors show up at just the right times.  Sometimes the mentoring bestowed was narrowly focused, like how Mrs. Cherry encouraged my interest in Chemistry in High School.  And sometimes the lessons were broad, on-going, and formative, such as those from one of my first bosses at Air Products.  I was extremely lucky to come under Tom’s guidance at a time when I was still really green from grad school and bumping into proverbial walls daily in a business environment.  His patience was legendary; his wisdom more so.  Over the years, my coaching has been peppered with “Tom”-isms.  The subject of this essay is one of the first he taught me and one of my favorites.

Let me set the scene.  Making that transition from school to “real work” was tough.  At least, it was in the late 1980’s when there was not a ton of interdisciplinary learning in school.  I knew Chemistry and lab work and research.  I loved molecules and they loved me.  However, I knew very little about how a laboratory discovery was turned into a viable product that people would actually buy and thus pay my salary.  I knew even less about the challenges interacting with associated divisions would bring.  Who knew what manufacturing, sales or finance needed to know to make my fabulous little discovery commercially successful?  I also knew very little about the politics of a working environment.  There were so many people working at different levels that I began pulling into myself more in order to avoid discomfort and conflict. 

This pathway is one that many people, especially scientists, end up taking.  They dive ever deeper into their own area of expertise and lose patience with those on the outside.  Not being able to connect with others is a huge issue not just in large corporations but in any venture where individuals need to contribute their part or the business will not be successful.  People talk past each other; they make incorrect assumptions around language and priorities; they minimize the difficulty of what other players contribute.  It’s not so much that people lack social skills (although that can be an issue) but that they fail to create a human connection that will allow more effective discussion.  Tom clearly saw me heading down this destructive pathway.

I don’t remember exactly what led Tom and me to have this discussion, but I sure remember the advice he gave me:  “Sherri, throughout your career and life you are going to have work with all kinds of people.  Some will be easy to connect with and some will not.  Here’s what I suggest you do: with every person you meet, find one thing about them that you can like or admire and one thing that you can learn from them.”  Simple advice.  But when I remember to put it into action, the impact is significant.  I have tried to employ this advice whenever I’ve needed to establish a new connection, be it professional or personal.  And I’ve had to establish a lot of connections over the years!

One area that this advice has helped me a lot has been at networking events.  I am a horrible networker!  I hate it, even!  I am an introvert and working a room is the biggest energy drain imaginable to me.  More often than not, I latch onto a couple of people I know and maybe let them introduce me to new people.  But when I remember to apply this Tom-ism, things get easier.  I start to ask people questions to find that one thing I like and that one thing I can learn.  Maybe it is a hobby they have, or a story they tell about some experience.  Maybe it is the way they smile or how kind they are to the person who interrupts our conversation.  Back in my Paint Chemistry days, I always appreciated when they knew something about corrosion resistant coatings or how to formulate better brush flow into a paint.  Maybe I just like their shoes.  But there is always something I can like and something I can learn. 

This advice is even more valuable, as you can imagine, with difficult work colleagues (or family members or neighbors or spouse’s friends or whomever).  It’s applicable not just to new people, but also to people that have become a challenge.  Here’s a good one.  After I came back from Mexico, I experienced something akin to career altitude sickness.  I jumped quite a few career levels and assumed a position that required way more political savvy than I had developed.  My timing was horrible, too.  I came back early in 2001 and we all know what happened that Fall.  When the economy fell off a cliff and business conditions soured, my lack of political skill was a real detriment to me.

One of my co-workers was not particularly happy that I was elevated to this new position.  Over the next few years, he took advantage of (and encouraged) my mistakes to slowly undermine my influence.  I gave him plenty of opportunity, too.  As I finally got my sea legs and worked to right the ship, I began to understand what he did.  Let’s just say he was not one of my favorite people.  But I had to keep working with him.  Find something you can like and something you can learn.  It was not easy.  But, over the coming years, I grew to appreciate his insights into the technology development process.  And I learned from him how to better use data and numbers to make a stronger case for a decision.  I focused on those things.  And by the end of both of our careers there was a thawing.  Dare I say even a fondness?  And, yes, even something of an apology for past indiscretions on both our parts.

I will admit that I am not always successful at putting Tom’s advice into practice.  With some people, finding the “something I like, something I can learn” is easy.  We connect right away!  Sometimes I don’t have enough time to find those jewels.  At times, like in the example above, it takes time, effort and persistence.  But I am convinced of this:  ultimately, you can always find something you like and something you can learn from any person.  Make the decision to do that and you can work with anyone.  And if you can work with anyone, you will find greater success.

Procrastination and Perfectionism

I am a selective procrastinator and it drives me nuts.  “How,” I ask myself, “can you be such an organized, list-making, spreadsheet-loving, OCD-like person and yet put off seemingly random, often straightforward things for an eternity?!”  Here’s an example:  I’ve wanted to write about procrastination for a long time, but haven’t done it until now.  Seriously.  I kept putting off writing about procrastination.  Why?  Well, here’s the story.

I wanted to include a favorite cartoon that I cut out of the paper when I was in grad school.  The first five panels of this Sunday cartoon showed a woman going through a series of cleaning and other chores.  In the last panel, which is the one I saved, she lay exhausted in a chair with the caption:  “Beneath this workaholic exterior beats the heart of a lazy person.”  I loved that cartoon!  I was convinced that underneath it all I was really lazy.  I was never sure exactly how I got done whatever I did get done!  So, before writing this essay, I wanted to find that cartoon.

I could have sworn I kept that last panel on the door to my lab in grad school.  And I’m sure I kept taking it with me, office to office in Air Products.  So, it would have made it into the box of office stuff I took home after leaving Intertek, right?  Now, where was that box?  I searched through the basement.  I came back up to my home office and looked in various hiding places.  I saw most of the Office Items that would have been in that box scattered about so I must have unpacked it.  After digging around the office for hours, I think, “Let’s try on line.”  I searched first the website of the cartoon that I swore was the source.  Then searched more broadly with the text of the punchline.  All of this activity happened piecemeal over many, many days and weeks.  Meanwhile, no essay had been written.  I felt I couldn’t start writing until I found that cartoon.  See where I’m going with this?

There are lots of reasons people procrastinate.  There are lots of reasons why I, myself, procrastinate.  Sometimes it’s fear, like why it took me so long to try a spin class at the Y.  Sometimes it really is just laziness, like trying on the bathing suit I bought months ago.  But a good percentage of the time, I realize, I procrastinate because I’m a perfectionist.  I think about how I’ve coached many people over the years to get over their procrastination tendencies.  “Just start,” I say.  “Just create the blank file or a spreadsheet.  Start by making a list of the tasks that need to be done and then tackle just the first one.”  And then the clincher: “It doesn’t have to be perfect.  It just needs to get done.”   

But I want it to be perfect!  Not surprisingly, I’ve done some research on “perfectionism”.  There are two types of perfectionists:  Externally Motivated and Internally Motivated.  I am an Internally Motivated Perfectionist.  I couldn’t care less about YOUR judgement on my degree of perfection.  It is ME who wants everything I do to be perfect.  I like the neatness of it; the elegance of a perfect solution; the satisfaction of doing something as well as I can do it.  But being perfect at a task seems like such a herculean effort that it paralyzes me!  And so I keep on looking for the cartoon because the cartoon would make the essay perfect and I want it to be perfect.  And I delay writing the essay.  Or the business proposal. Or the performance review. If I can’t be perfect, I don’t want to do it at all.  Then I get mad and frustrated with myself.  And then I usually have a snack.  That leads to other issues that will be discussed another time.

While I share this trait with many, I don’t share it with my wife.  Trish is also an Internally Motivated Perfectionist, but instead of paralyzing her and leading to procrastination, her perfectionism drives her to complete any task on her to-do list as soon as humanly possible: to the extent that she drives herself nuts, runs around frantically, and usually ends up hurting her foot. 

Trish keeps a short list of must-do items and her drive is to get them DONE.  Me?  I have an endless number of potential tasks on my to-do list.  I don’t just care about getting them done, I care about getting them done PERFECTLY.  We balance each other well.  She can motivate me to get moving with a heavy sigh, an eye roll and a gentle “You haven’t done that yet?”  I can calm her down a bit and convince her that she doesn’t need to go outside in the dark in the rain to find out why a landscaping light isn’t working.  It can actually wait until morning.

The next step in this essay should be some magic words of wisdom about how to overcome this problem.  Sure wish I had them.  All I can say is that sometimes I can get myself going and sometimes I can’t.  What helps is that I’ve learned to give myself a bit of grace because I am old enough now to know that things that really need to get done somehow always get done.  True enough, I would sigh in frustration when tackling a business proposal that I just couldn’t get myself to start.  I’d read emails.  Or walk the halls.  Or even, lord help me, make a phone call I’d been putting off.  But, eventually, things would get done.  I wrote the performance reviews and business proposals.  I’ve written this essay.  No, they don’t necessarily reach the degree of perfection that I would want, but they are good enough.

So, give yourself a little grace, too.  We all procrastinate.  Most of us are perfectionists to some degree.  We all get paralyzed by a task every now and then.  Or sometimes we continue to plow forward to just get something done instead of taking a step back and assessing a better path.  Think about what is causing you to hesitate and who is relying on your output.  Sometimes just putting the reasons in context helps you get going.  Don’t beat yourself up.  You know that just makes it worse! 

Remember to give others some grace, too.  Yes, you are depending on that person to get something done.  You can’t do what YOU need to do until they do their part!  Help them get started, or at least offer.  And if someone else offers you help, take it.  

So how long did it take me to get this essay done?  Well, the bigger challenge was starting the blog.  Those who have known me know that I’ve been saying I’ve wanted to write for years and years.  I needed to figure out the “what” and the “how”, but more than anything I had to get over my need for everything I put out there to be perfect.  That activation barrier was huge!  Now if only I could get myself to organize this office space, but I think I’ll get Trish off that ladder in the rain before she falls.

A Deeper Understanding of Assumptions

In the title essay to this blog, “Don’t Leave Rocks on the Pavement,” I described how my time living and working in Mexico opened my eyes to a range of assumptions I make every day.  Anyone who knows me, or has been subjected to my energy on this topic, knows that I believe at the root of pretty much every bad thing in the world today are unarticulated and untested assumptions.  OK, maybe that’s a bit of hyperbole, but it’s an important topic.  So before I go much further, let me not assume that you know what I mean when I talk about assumptions.

The definition of an assumption is “a thing that is accepted as true or as certain to happen, without proof” (Oxford).  Assumptions are not, in and of themselves, bad things.  What trips us up is that pesky “without proof” part of the definition.  We have to make loads of little assumptions to get through each day.  Most of them prove to be valid because we’ve either seen the situation before or have been told something is true.  When so many of the little assumptions you make are either true or the consequences of being wrong are not visible, you are rarely even aware that you are making an assumption.  So, when one of them turns out not to be valid, the result can be a significant misunderstanding that can lead to even worse consequences.

The example I gave in my first essay was about a cultural assumption:  I did not believe that leaving rocks on the pavement was a big enough problem to require a road sign every few kilometers.  The result of that invalid assumption was my embarrassment at insulting my host.  However, the impact of untested assumptions can sometimes be physically dangerous as well.  Let me tell you another story.

San Juan del Rio, the pueblo in Central Mexico that I lived in, has been around since the 1500’s so there are quite a number of passageways too narrow for two cars.  One of those was on my way to the manufacturing plant where I worked.  The first time I was taken to the plant, we approached that narrow tunnel at the same time as a car coming in the other direction.  The other car flashed their lights and we stopped.  Had I been driving, I would have continued to plow forward.  The custom in the U.S., the custom my father taught me when I learned to drive and the custom that held up where ever in the U.S. I drove, was that the car that flashed their lights was signaling for the other car to go first.  Fortunately, I was not the one driving.  Just as I was about to question why we were waiting, the other car came through.  It never occurred to me that in Mexico, the custom is that the car flashing their lights goes first!  Another invalid assumption, one that would have ended in a head-on collision if I had been behind the wheel! 

These are just a couple of small examples around cultural norms, but we make all kinds of assumptions in our daily lives.  For example, there are language interpretation assumptions, such as the meaning of a word or phrase, or even the definition of an acronym.  I remember one really confusing conversation with a marketing team where one group was using the acronym PSA to mean “pressure sensitive adhesive” and the other group was interpreting PSA to mean “public service announcement”.  You would be surprised how long it took us to figure that out!

Then there are body language assumptions, either the meaning of a gesture (be careful in which countries you make the thumbs up or “OK” gestures!) or the meaning of a body posture.  And this is not just confusing between countries and cultures.  Folks in your neighborhood can mean very different things by their body language or tone.  It is natural to project the meaning you would use to explain an expression or gesture even when it comes from someone else, but that is certainly not always correct. 

Additionally, there are assumptions we make about a person’s education or intelligence or maturity or honesty, based on how they look or dress or talk.  I am forever impressed by people who speak English as a second language with any reasonable fluency.  I never got past the fluency of a native third grader in Mexican Spanish, but it was my vocabulary that was limited, not my intelligence.  How many times have you assumed that a new English speaker was not very intelligent simply because they hadn’t yet learned the words or grammar to better express their thoughts?

Unarticulated and untested assumptions run rampant in the workplace and not just related to how people interact with each other.  I firmly believe that the reason so many outstanding business plans fail in execution is connected to the different assumptions operating and planning personnel apply to the same terms.  As I began to tease this concept of assumptions apart, I began to ask a lot more questions.  For example, what do you mean by “marketing”?  One time, when I was negotiating for more “marketing” support, I failed to ask that question early in the process.  When I was asking for marketing support, I meant market research.  The person I was negotiating with was offering marketing communications.  Two very different aspects of “marketing”!  I also found that job titles carry assumptions, based on your experience.  The title of “Specialist” in some companies is the very top of the technical ladder.  In others, it is used for entry level positions.  Made for some very awkward job offer discussions!  Believe me, I could go on.

Clearly, you have to “pick your battles” because questioning every assumption will wear you out. And I certainly continue to make embarrassing mistakes!  However, you can stay attuned to when you might be falling into an assumption trap.  I encourage you to start asking yourself if you are making a judgement based on an untested assumption.  Does something sound ridiculous to you?  It may be because it clashes with an assumption you’ve made—one you haven’t tested in that situation.  Slow down.  Ask more questions.  Get others to articulate what they mean.  “Different” doesn’t have to mean wrong.  In fact, sometimes “different” can be better.  And that’s the real richness of testing your assumptions.