Head Tilt #88: Don't Worry, Be Imaginative


Signs, signs, everywhere signs. This gem is at a little store less than a mile from my home. I drive by it every day. It's not wrong: Worry certainly is a misuse of imagination!

To re-route worry, we can imagine a better outcome and do the next right thing. Here are some examples of moving from wasteful worry to positive possibilities. 


πŸ‹ Are you worried about that big presentation to the executive team that's coming up?

πŸ’‘ Imagine the results of a job so well done that they write songs about you! Consult a colleague, practice your speech, or review your notes. Do something to take a step toward making that positive possibility a reality.


πŸ‹ Are you worried about your appearance as we slide into shorts and swimsuit season?

πŸ’‘ Imagine how good you'll feel when you make peace with yourself, stop caring what others think, or go shopping and find something that you feel sensational in! Do something to take a step toward making that positive possibility a reality.


πŸ‹ Are you worried about your future now that your youngest has graduated and is off to college? (Oh, wait, is that just me?)

πŸ’‘ Imagine a future so bright you have to wear a cute sunhat. Take a class, nurture your network, feed your friendships, and look inward as much as outward. Dream a bigger dream and do something to take a step toward making that positive possibility a reality.


What can you do right now to re-route the energy you're using to worry toward a brighter vision of what's possible?

Whatever it is, you know I am here, wearing a cute sunhat and cheering you on! 

The Birthday Post: Be the Valedictorian of Your Life


As a teaching associate (TA) in graduate school long ago, I was taught to view the students in my classroom as active participants in the learning process, not passive recipients of the lessons from the lectern. 

It’s a lens I’ve used to guide my course design for the past 25 years: I commit to my trainees’ growth, giving them ample opportunities to take things beyond the training room.

In the school of my life, where I am not the teacher, but the student, I use the same lens. I strive to be an active participant in my learning process, not a passive recipient of life’s syllabus. Lately, I am sitting front-row, notebook open, pencil sharpened, alert, and ready to learn. I don't always love the curriculum, but I try to attend class daily. 

Life’s lessons are taught by interactions with colleagues, customers, friends, and family. Instructional methods include conflict, challenge, wins, and losses. Some of the most powerful lessons come through pain.

If I am not being a good student, it’s all for nothing. My growth plateaus and I am obligated to re-enroll until I ace the course. 

Uh-uh. Not me. I know better. 

Here are my top tips for being at the top of the class in the school of life: 

1. Stay present. Remember the smartest kids in grade school? They always sat in the front of the class, with perfect posture, eyes fixed on the teacher, hands folded on their desks. They kind of bugged me, but they knew how to learn! Be like them. Remove the auto-pilot feature on your internal dashboard and commit to increasing your awareness and, in turn, your options. Build a chasm between stimulus and response. Breathe. Be. Learn. 

2. Stay curious. Ask good questions. Start sentences with what and how. Instead of jumping to conclusions, dance toward discovery. Read up. Take the personality quizzes. Enroll in all the classes. Know that you know a lot, but that knowledge is an infinite resource to compound.

3. Reflect.  Like a good student reviews their notes, review your day. Pair reflection with the curiosity mentioned above. What did you do well? Keep doing that! What requires a do-over? Do that! Remember that uncomfortable interaction with your manager in the one-on-one meeting? Revisit that. What happened? What did you learn? What could you have done differently? What will you do differently going forward? When paired with a plan, hindsight can be a great guru.

4. Regard those who annoy, harm, or betray you as your special guest lecturers. That leader or friend who is extra tough on you... What are they teaching you? Perhaps it’s a lesson on what NOT to do. The person who stole your thunder on the big project? They are giving you an opportunity to perfect your assertiveness skills and stand up for your worth. That one who broke your heart? They are teaching you how to heal, how to be stronger, and how to be whole on your own. Let others' wrongs illuminate your rights. 

Choose to be the valedictorian of your life. You got this. πŸŽ“πŸŽ‰

What is life teaching you today?


About that photo of me... I stole-borrowed my son's graduation garb for the pic…He doesn't know. 🀫



Service Superstar Chris Campa and the Zombie Apocalypse

Service Superstat Chris Campa (and me!)
at the Donut Bar in San Diego



Imagine a zombie apocalypse.

 

It’s on.

 

End-of-day mayhem everywhere.

 

You run out into the open grid of chaos and see a Hummer approaching from the distance. It’s full of humans like you fleeing for their lives. Your heart beats with hope.

 

In panicked desperation, you frantically wave your arms, praying they will slow down and let you jump in.

 

(End scene)

 

Back to reality.

 

In a zombie apocalypse, would strangers save you?

As they fled, would they risk their lives and stop for you?

 

What if they'd interacted with you- even for a moment- before the upheaval?

 

How had you treated them?

 

In the apocalypse, would they see your face and associate it with negativity (e.g., “Don’t stop, that person’s a jerk...drive faster!”)

 

Or would they remember that you were kind and, in turn, slam on the brakes, open the door, and pull you aboard?

 

If you’re 21-year-old Chris Campa from San Diego, they’d definitely stop and even high-five you as you hopped in.

 

Why? Because Chris proactively creates his zombie apocalypse good karma every day.

 

I met Chris at The Donut Bar, where he works. This magical little (donut) hole-in-the-wall has two of my favorite things on the menu: designer donuts and tasty mimosas. Visiting the Donut Bar is part of my San Diego routine; I go there often.

 

On every visit, without fail, a tall, vibrant young man at the cash register, Chris, greets me with the warmest welcome and biggest smile. Every time.

 

He doesn’t save his sunshine just for me. Chris greets everyone this way. No matter how busy the shop is (it’s always busy), and no matter what mood they bring, every customer is greeted with genuine kindness.

 

Chris's love of life and people is so authentic that it’s impossible to ignore. This guy radiates positivity. When paying for my usual order on a recent San Diego adventure, I asked Chris to tell me his secret. I wanted in—how did he stay so upbeat? I was ready to order whatever he was selling.

 

Without pause, he told me his story about the zombie apocalypse.

 

In the story he created, he wonders if the Hummer would stop because they remembered he was a good guy, or would they speed on by? He wants to be sure they'd stop. He treats everyone with kindness...you just never know when your paths will cross again.

 

Obsessed with great customer service and now intrigued with him, I took a chance and asked if I could interview him after his shift. Lucky me, he agreed and later that day, Chris wowed me with his customer service secrets. No surprise, he has no secrets, just a consistent way of showing up for others, regardless of whether he’s on the clock.

 

Here are more highlights from the interview, including the audio clip of him telling the zombie story in his own words.

 

 

On energy:

“Love is a limitless currency. I want to give as much as I can.”

 

On happiness:

“Nothing makes me happier than seeing someone smile!”

 

(I nudged him a bit here, and he admitted that being the cause of that smile, especially if someone isn’t having a good day, makes him pretty darn happy, too.)

 

On rude customers and disappointments:

“People can be mean for a minute, but life is still awesome.”

 

When asked if he ever has a bad day:

“Honestly, no! I love my life. It’s like this, if you have $100K and someone steals two bucks, does that ruin the whole stash? No way! You still have so much!”

 

Three words he’d like others to use to describe him:


·  Open-minded  

·  Kind-hearted

·  Fun

 

Pet peeves:

People making others feel less than, bullying of any kind, .... and he admitted he gets bugged when the light turns green and people don’t go. (Proof that he’s human!)


He's a natural-born leader:

Chris has been demonstrating leadership skills since he was a kid. As he tells it, he’s always had the ability to scan a room, find the person who felt like they didn’t belong, and get them connected with others. He told me about an experience that was worthy of a John Hughes film.


When he was in ninth grade and stumbled upon a foreign exchange student, Sungjae, hiding alone in the boy’s restroom stall, eating his paltry chicken-wing lunch. Chris immediately took him to the cafeteria to sit with him and his friends. Fast forward: Sungjae became one of Chris’s close friends, he became quite popular, stayed at the school, mastered English, and graduated successfully. The principal of the school even acknowledged Chris for doing what he’d been unsuccessful with—helping Sungjae fit in and thrive. WOW! (He was 12 or 13 at the time!)

 

In summary, I learned so much from Chris! What a phenomenal, inspirational person! I can hardly wait to see what he does with the rest of his life. This guy is going places, and he's creating tidal waves of positivity along the way.


For now, in the spirit of Halloween, whether you are in a customer-facing position or not, when the zombies come, let's be like Chris. Let’s be the kind of people that strangers would save in a heartbeat. While we each still have a heartbeat.


Because we just never know. 🧟‍♂️


Hear it in his words! Listen to Chris tell the zombie story here:

Zombie Interview with Chris Campa


Head Tilt #86: Adventure is out there

I broke up with Disneyland.

 

The Last Ride




















After nine years of being an annual pass holder, I let my pass expire today.

 

When things were good between Disney and me, they were so good!

 

For years I have loved Disney’s commitment to excellence. It was apparent everywhere. I studied their leadership, took their classes, and visited the California parks an almost embarrassing number of times.


ClichΓ© as it was, Disneyland was my happy place. In my eyes, Disney provided manufactured perfection. It was clean and safe. The cast members were always kind.

 

Then slowly, gradually, we both changed.

 

Disney changed their ticketing, pricing, crowd-control, attractions, customer service, and processes. All changes were strategic and well-intended, but not favored by me. Where before I saw magic, I now see dollar signs.

 

But I changed too. While playfulness is still a priority, my patience has waned. I long for Disneyland as I knew it, and I don’t have an interest in learning to love Disneyland as it is now.

 

A few weeks ago, my son and I took one last visit while I still had my pass. (I mean, if I was breaking up with Disney, I wanted to do it in person.) We had so much fun. We experienced several Disney magic moments. Twice, I got the giggles so hard -- I thought my face would break. We made great memories.

 

We noticed all the things that bugged us, too, but still, we focused on the good.

 

For our last ride, we chose King Arthur’s Carousel, one of the attractions from opening day in 1955. Since watching his daughters ride the merry-go-round at Griffith Park in LA inspired Walt’s vision of Disneyland, this carousel seemed like a perfect selection to end not only our visit but also our era as pass holders.  

 

Late at night, the crowds were light. We were at the tail-end of the line, and most of the outside carousel horses were taken. Since there was no one behind us, I kindly asked the attending cast member if we could wait until the next ride.

 

“It would make my job easier if you didn’t,” she grumped.

 

Oof! Further evidence of change, this was not quite the Disney service standard we knew and loved.

 

I guess I was feeling a bit rebellious; this was my last ride for a while. We stepped to the side and quietly waited anyway. We chose the horses we wanted and enjoyed the ride. We slowly meandered down Main Street and exited the park when it was over.

 

Thank you, Disneyland. I am grateful for all the memories my family and I have made on your properties. I love the Disney lessons I’ve worked into my career. I’ll still visit every now and then, it’s just not a priority anymore. As Charles Muntz said in the Disney/Pixar movie, Up, “Adventure is out there.” I am off to find my next one.