An acorn fell on an unsuspecting, nervous chicken. Unaware that it was an acorn, Chicken Little decided it was something much, much bigger.

Henny Penny: “Where are you going, Chicken Little?”

Chicken Little: “Oh help! The sky is falling!”

Henny Penny: “How do you know?”

Chicken Little: “I saw it with my own eyes, and heard it with my own ears, and part of it fell on my head!”

Henny Penny: “This is terrible, just terrible! We’d better hurry up.”

Most of us remember the rest of the story. Chicken Little and Henny Penny run into Ducky Lucky, Goosey Loosey and Turkey Lurkey, who join forces to tell the king about the bad news, until they run into Foxy Loxy. Foxy Loxy sees the absurdity of their fear and a very nice dinner just waiting to be cooked. He leads them to his den and they are never seen again.

To avoid the Foxy Loxy’s of the world and keep change moving in the right direction, watch for these warning signs:

Telling a “big, bad story” before the facts are gathered.
The acorn was just an acorn, but Chicken Little, in her overreaction, told herself a story that created such fear half of her feathers fell out. The stories we tell ourselves are powerful. Our bodies react to them, because they are our interpretation of the event. Once we tell ourselves a terrifying story, our body goes into fight or flight and we find ourselves exhausted and vulnerable. Pay attention to the stories you tell yourself, and make sure you have the facts to back them up!

Spreading a big, bad story based upon someone else’s perception.

Henny Penny at least asked the question, “How do you know?” but failed to dig any further. Too often we are eager to pick up someone else’s bad news and run to the next person with it. I can’t tell you the number of corporate initiatives I’ve seen killed on the back of  a big, bad story that spread like wildfire and was equally destructive. Sadly, these stories are rarely true.

Focusing on big, bad stories keep us from focusing on the right things.

When our energy goes to “What ifs?” and “Did you hear?” statements, all of the energy we could put into creating success is depleted. Rather than celebrating our great strides forward, we become vulnerable to the conniving manipulators who feed off of other people’s fears. They wait in the shadows, like Foxy Loxy, ready to pounce and take over once everything falls apart.

In fact, sometimes it’s the Foxy Loxy’s that start the rumor in the first place, just so they can swoop in, clean up, and grab the initiative for themselves!

Change presents a lot of unknowns, and it’s easy to become a Chicken Little as our hearts pound and the nets that used to catch us disappear.

Great change warriors, however, know that courage is at the heart of what they do. Great change warriors avoid the Chicken Little Syndrome by doing the following:

• Check validity of fear by digging deeper into any situations that are described in grandiose verbiage, hinting that “the sky is falling.”
• Immediately communicate any misinformation that might be causing Chicken Little behavior. Sometimes “the sky is falling” is simply “nobody’s talking to us so this must be bigger than we thought.”
• Stay focused on the positive actions. Change warriors rarely find the time to circle up with Henny Pennys or Ducky Luckys to discuss what is falling. Instead, they discuss what is being built.

Years ago, when I was homebound due to an illness, I made the time pass by writing plays. My brother and sister were fellow actors, and we would present these plays to my parents and, sometimes, the neighbors. I was eight-years-old, so this was no Twilight screenplay. Oh, wait, maybe it was .

Before Twilight fans get angry I read every book and enjoyed them thoroughly. The movies, not so much.

Anyway, one of the first plays presented was about a picnic. My brother, sister and I had only practiced for about 4.5 minutes, so we were having trouble delivering our lines. This created large gaps of silence. Our parental units were probably in more pain than we were, but we plodded forward.  The dog, I’m sure out of sheer pity, came and sat in the middle of the picnic blanket. She sat directly in front of me, at which point I choked on some food.

When I starting coughing it was right in her little face. The hair on her face blew back, and we all started to laugh. The parents laughed, my brother and sister laughed, and the neighbors laughed.

Even though they were guffawing  out of sheer relief, I discovered the joy of making people laugh. From that point forward every play, every dance, was flawed, just at the right time to generate a laugh. As I was the sick kid at home for almost a year, those moments of laughter brought me joy and made me feel healthy again, if only for a moment.

I think laughter is the greatest gift we can give each other for these three reasons:  

1. Laughter cleanses the soul. Think about the last time you were really uptight about something and then someone made you laugh. It literally feels like a storm has passed and the sun is shining again. You feel lighter.
2. Laughter is contagious.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a person laugh alone. Even if no one in the room knows what they’re laughing at, if someone is doubled over you’ll see others begin to laugh as well.
3. Laughter makes us better people. Watch an audience that leaves a funny movie. People are smiling and letting each other out into the aisle. There is a general camaraderie created by laughter, and it’s a positive one.

So, this holiday season, I hope you laugh.

If you’d like to read more on laughter, check out my Be the Crow site where I’m journaling a year of change. There’s a great video there that will prove laughter is contagious!

After the loss of so many trees in our yard during hurricane Irene, I’ve found myself observing trees more often.  Recently, I noticed that many of the trees within our heavily wooded acreage  had been blown askew by Irene, but were still rooted. Why, I wondered, did they survive when my trees did not?

I realized that the density of the forest was such that the trees were not uprooted because they had another tree upon which to lean.

In my immediate front and backyard, the trees had more space in which to fall and on the way down hit other trees with such force that they took them out as well. I had one line of six oak trees that took each other down like dominoes.

From this observation, I made the following creative leap to change and work relationships:

1. When we work together as a real team, we give our ideas and initiatives time to take root by offering support for one another’s projects. By providing that support, when chaos and storms move in, we hold each other up.
2. When we don’t work together as a team, one team member falls with greater velocity, because there is no one upon whom they can lean. There is no branch in another team area that can support them. The  speed with which their initiative fails then eventually reaches other projects and takes them down as well, because that team member wasn’t aware of how their project was interdependent with others.

Sometimes we might think that isolating ourselves and working alone speeds things up since we don’t have to get input from others. However,  especially during times of intense change, we are going to need to build a networking web of colleagues around our initiative. We are going to need a forest of support that will offer ideas and assistance when the environment turns.

All leaders, initiatives and project plans rely on someone and something else. Whatever initiative you are working on, whatever position you hold in an organization, you can’t do it alone. Every project, every maneuver, is set up like a series of oak trees.

To succeed during times of change, make sure you have the support you need . . . because successful work takes a forest.

I think all change begins with a sense of awareness. Individuals need to be aware of who they are and what they desire; corporations must be aware of the same thing.

As I prepare for my year of change, I am working on my self-awareness. I struggle, like perhaps many of you do, to differentiate between the truth of who I am and the stories that I, or others, have created about me.

In his book “The Fifth Agreement,” Don Miguel Ruiz says that  -

The story of you is everything that you know about you . . . You, knowledge, come from the symbols you hear in your head, from all the opinions of the people you love, the people you don’t love, the people you know, and mostly the people you’ll never know.

I’ve had to think about who is talking in my head, and remember that I understood who I was years before I started accepting messages about myself that may or may not be true.

We’ve all gotten these messages that make us less true to who we really are and cause us to become someone we are not:

• My first corporate job involved a leader who was hyper critical of everything I did. She told me that I was too loud, laughed too much, and did not have a real understanding of business.
• A college professor told me that while I was entertaining, I was not a serious writer. He suggested that I take basic English and do something other than write.
• A close friend told me that the desire to become a teacher was taking a step down and below my abilities.

Because of these messages, I revised my own story, erasing parts of myself. Suddenly, I took myself less seriously as a businessperson and lost some of my charisma by quieting down. I stopped writing for years, believing I didn’t have the skill.  I gave up on finding a teaching job quickly, since it seemed to disappoint some people who were close to me.

We all have these messages that have distorted our stories. My commitment this year is to try to uncover them and rewrite a new story – one that includes the real me.

Sometimes companies break my heart.

I meet these amazing managers and employees who love their jobs and have a tremendous amount of potential. They are willing to work extra hours for minimal pay, just to make the company better.

These people sit in the middle of the organizations, praying that somebody will ask for their opinion or their help. When we ignore these people, we are losing the soul of our company. We are valuing process over people.

I can’t tell you how many companies I’ve worked with that feel every answer involves a process and a project plan. But people – they deal with that stuff when they have time.

There’s a great story about Herb Kelleher of Southwest Airlines who asked a friend how his management job was going. He replied with exasperation that 99.9% of his job was dealing with people. Herb’s response was, “Why only 99.9%?”

People ARE the job. They are the ones behind those processes. They are the ones implementing the steps in the project plan.

Starting finding the soul of your company by taking three easy steps:

1. Make sure you know the name of every person that works for you.
2. Get to know the unique skills of each person on the team.
3. Have an “ideas” meeting once a month or bring some of these people into other meetings to share their thoughts.

Hospitals have found that when they need a new idea the nurses know more than the doctors about the day-in, day-out operations. The same is true in every organization.

Find the people who are doing the job and ask for their input. You’ll rediscover the soul of the company.

Meetings about change are filled with diverse people who may or may not drive you crazy. It is in this incredible diversity that solutions are found.  Believe it or not, each person brings something to the table:

• People who  argue in meetings vehemently energize meetings with their tremendous passion.
• People who polish their thoughts before sharing them bring tremendous value to the conversation.
• People who bring humor to the table diffuse tense moments and allow more open conversation.
• People who sit quietly bring an ability to capture the tiniest details that can be shared once the meeting is over.
• People who share every thought out loud accelerate the generation of ideas.
• People who raise their hands to speak remind everyone of polite behavior that takes others into consideration.
• People who interrupt remind everyone of a passion that can’t keep its thoughts to itself.

Just because someone’s style is different from ours doesn’t mean it’s wrong. If we are facing the turmoil of change, we need every type of person at the table, because they represent the same diverse personalities out in the workforce.

Homogenous groups tend to come with the same solutions over and over again. To compete in this ever-changing world we need a diverse portfolio of ideas.

So the next time somebody does something in a meeting that gets on your last nerve, write down the value you think they bring to the table. Then look beyond their behavior to the words behind it. Even if you think they talk too much, you might just find the solution in their soliloquy.

People are amazing, and the best ideas come during passionate times of change. Listen. The solutions are there, resting in the minds of those people that might just drive you a little bit crazy.

I’ve spent several days staring at trees since the hurricane, which I believe has caused great concern for my neighbors. In particular, I’ve been observing the trees that have been left exposed in our acreage due to missing oaks.

Here’s what I’ve noticed – trees that are planted closely together grow opposite directions so that they can each reach the sun without growing into each other. A tree on the right will have most of its foliage on the right side, while the tree on the left will have most of its branches and foliage on the left side. The trees both thrive, adjusting to each other so both can get the sun they need.

While this observation is not exactly Einstein-worthy, here’s how I apply it to people. I watch real people, in real organizations, fighting for attention. Like those trees, they are reaching out to receive the warmth of recognition for a job well done.

Unfortunately, we don’t tend to make room for each other. Instead, we fight for exactly the same ground, reaching up towards the “sun” in the same direction. We often aren’t satisfied receiving just part of the light . . . we want it all.

Eventually, we can only get the attention we want if we attempt to destroy the other person or concept.

Due to this destructive behavior, corporations fail to become a forest of ideas and innovation. Instead, they become barren plots of land, with small ideas that never reach their full potential. People become exhausted, because, like trees, we need each other.

Sharing the light gives us all energy. Helping others, research shows, actually makes us happier. Therefore, I can only assume that tearing each other down makes us less happy. It certainly causes greater loneliness.

Next time you’re battling for position in a meeting, let somebody else have a little bit of the light. If they reach for recognition, branch off into another topic or area and allow them the space.

We can all exist together if we will simply make room. There’s plenty of light and recognition for each of us. Believe it or not, if you adjust for somebody, they will adjust for you. Most of the time. And, if they don’t, then the company has a culture that rewards the wrong things and you might want to find a better environment anyway.

Change is too often simplified in intellectual books. We create models and easy steps, sure that the explanation of the journey will make it pain free. There are a lot of things I’ve learned in life about change, and the following are what I know to be true:

1.  Change is exciting when it’s in the distance. Looking out across the horizon at change is always electrifying. It reminds me of when I was a child. We used to move every few years, and the trip to the new destination was always exciting. Dad had a little extra pocket money for the trip, we had wrapped up all of our relationships and responsibilities in the past, and we had a clean slate for the future. This time I could be a more organized Donna, or most popular, or wittiest at school. This time . . .
2.  Things ahead are larger than they appear.  As you near the change destination, you find everything totally controllable. It’s like the beginning of a storm. You have your water, your batteries, and are fully in command. You can still watch television, talk to friends on the phone, and determine that the Weather Channel is being ridiculous. You are starting to pick up preparation speed . . .
3.  Reality and adrenaline kick in. As you enter the world of change you are all revved up and ready to go, flying on all cylinders. You’ve heard about the downsizing at work, you’re sure you can handle it, you use the corporate speak and believe that this will be better for everybody. You put in extra hours when asked and seek out even more assignments. And then . . .
4.  Change begins to hurt. I find out that I’m still the geeky kid in school with eye teeth coming in that make me look like a vampire (which would be popular right now) and clothes that aren’t cool. The storm brings a tree through your window and the water you put in your bathtub leaks out before you can use it to flush the toilet. A friend loses their job and you find out you might lose yours, no matter how much extra effort you’ve exerted. You decide change is NOT a good thing, your heart hurts, and you feel totally lost. Then the storm stops, and . . .
5.  You morph into someone or something better. Maybe you discover through your pain that you don’t even like the popular people. Or the storm wipes out your trees and leaves room for some amazing landscaping you’ve always wanted. Maybe you find a new job that provides a brand new start, or your remember that you’ve always wanted to write anyway. Change has a way of creating tremendous focus as we turn inward to tend to our pain. It’s in this time of focus and reflection that we extend our journey. And, it’s not the end. It’s just another wondrous turn of events that propels us further down the road.

For more of stories -

Teaching a group of Middle School kids who have been kicked out of their regular classrooms is always a delight. I had the chance to teach them one year, and was told that if I could keep the fighting down to five a day I’d be successful.

I really loved these kids. They came from homes where joy was not a key ingredient. Many lived in hotels with parents who dealt crack. Others lived in projects where fear was their constant companion. One of my students came to school with stitches because his dad had thrown a knife at him.

One of my first strategies was to introduce journaling. Every day after lunch, rather than beating each other up, I had them write in their journals for ten minutes. They could write anything they wanted, and I wouldn’t read it unless they asked. A few said they were going to write a story about hitting me. I said I didn’t care as long as they wrote it and didn’t do it.

The time for journaling soon expanded from ten minutes to thirty, because the kids didn’t want to stop writing. I watched their faces as they wrote, and it’s as if every word lifted another weight off their shoulders.

In his book “59 seconds: Change Your Life In Under A Minute,” Richard Wiseman writes:

Writing encourages the creation of a story line and structure that help people make sense of what has happened and work toward a solution.

In one experiment researchers found that people who spent time writing about the following topics over a five week period felt significantly happier at the end of the experiment:

Monday: Write down three things for which you are grateful. These can include having a job you love, a garden, or a favorite television show.

Tuesday: Write about a terrific time in your life. Describe how it made you feel.

Wednesday: Write about your ideal life in the future. Describe the person you have become if all your dreams come true.

Thursday: Write a quick note to a person who is important to you. Describe how much you care for them.

Friday: Think back over the past week and write down three things that went really well for you.

I’m going to try this starting Monday. I’ll let you know how it goes, and would love for you to join me! If you want to read more about my experience with the Middle School kids, check out Chapter 3 of my book:

If you want the Richard Wiseman book, here you go:

I was in New York City this weekend, eating in an Italian restaurant in Brooklyn with my son and daughter. Outside of our window was the back of a stage, with a HipHop concert in full swing.

The three of us have spent two days walking around the city, and we’re consuming our pizza like Jabba the Hut. We’ve interacted with our waitress only long enough to order our food.

Then we see commotion on the cobblestoned street. Two police officers run out to block traffic. A white Mercedes slows down right in front of our window, and several body guards surround it. The gate opens, and we watch the Mercedes pull into the concert arena.

Next, we see a black Mercedes and Escalade, both approached by police officers. Now the entire restaurant is buzzing.

“Who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know — I heard this was going to be a big concert.”

Restaurant patrons, who were previously eating without eye contact, are starting to talk with each other. As a red and black touring bus pulls up, surrounded by twelve motorcycles adorned with very large men, our waitress runs to our table.

“The guys in the kitchen say it’s Kanye West! He’s supposed to show up tonight!”

“Are you kidding? That’s amazing!”

I throw money on the table, offering about a 50% tip just so I don’t have to wait for change. The kids and I step out onto the street, trying to look cool. Of course I’m doing the head bob to the music which my son quickly informs me is NOT cool.

The large motorcycle guys come over and stand behind us, sporting black bullet-proof vests. I turn around and find myself gazing into the belly button of one of the guys. Now people on the street are talking, laughing, and dancing.

Yes, it was Kanye West. But here’s what I noticed most – when people had something to talk about, they became quick friends. The energy in the restaurant and on the street was about more than Kanye. It was curiosity and the thrill of having something to talk about.

Sometimes that’s all we need. A common theme. A point of possibility. Anything that will connect people through conversation.

We had no confirmation of the superstar that seemed to be arriving, so it gave us time to throw out possibilities. There is excitement in possibilities. People like to guess and predict without someone shooting them down with phrases like:

“No, that can’t be who it is. I’ve run this spreadsheet and the odds are impossible.”

“We tried guessing Kanye before, and it didn’t work. There’s no way it’s him. I have it in my Powerpoint deck.”

Sometimes we just need to take our brains out for an adventure where answers are unknown and anticipation is high. Our energy lasted all night as we told and retold the story to each other.

Want some energy? Let people take their brain somewhere it hasn’t gone before. Maybe to a HipHop concert.