CHAPTER 8

Be Real, Not Right

A few years ago, I delivered a seminar for a group at a technology company in Silicon Valley. After my talk, one of the participants told me privately a bit about what was going on with his team and asked if I would be open to speaking to his manager. His hope was that I could come in and help them address and resolve some of the issues they were having with trust and communication. I said yes, so he set up a phone call for me and his manager. When we spoke, the manager confirmed everything his employee had said, and we set a date for me to come back in and talk to his team.

When I walked into the conference room with this group a few weeks later, I was taken aback. While there were just eight people sitting around a table, the tension in that room was palpable. Have you ever walked into a room where you could just feel the bad vibes and animosity right away? That’s how it felt in there; it was pretty intense.

They wanted me to give a talk on teamwork, communication, and trust. I was more than happy to do that, since I love talking about these important topics. However, while they seemed somewhat interested in what I had to say, about 20 minutes into my speech the level of tension in the room finally got too distracting. So I stopped, looked at everybody, and said, “Listen, I can keep talking about various aspects of trust, teamwork, and communication, but I think what would be most useful is if we actually talked about what’s going on with you guys as a team.”

I went up to the whiteboard in the conference room and drew a picture of an iceberg, which is the metaphor I often use when talking about authenticity and trust. I said, “I think there are some things down here below the waterline that aren’t being talked about. And, if you all are willing to express and expose some of what’s down there, it might make a difference not only for this conversation we’re having, but for each of you personally and for your team.

“There’s an exercise we’re going to do now, and I’ll start. We’re going to go around the table and each of us will have a few minutes to speak. When it’s your turn, just repeat this phrase, ‘If you really knew me, you’d know … ,’ and then share anything you’d like to about what you’re thinking; how you’re feeling; or what you’re not saying in this moment—you know, the stuff that’s down below your waterline, so to speak. Then go a level deeper, using the phrase ‘If you really, really knew me, you’d know …’

“I’ll go first,” I said. “If you really knew me, you’d know that I feel an enormous amount of tension in this room. I’m not even sure what it’s about, but it feels visceral. I literally felt it the moment I walked into the room. If you really, really knew me, you’d know that I feel scared to have this conversation with you guys. On the one hand, I’m worried that you won’t open up and talk about what’s really going on, which could make this exercise and this whole session become quite useless, awkward, and uncomfortable. On the other hand, I feel even more scared you will open up and really talk about what’s going on. If that happens, it’s possible that whatever comes out might be so messy and difficult that I won’t be able to help or support you in coming to a resolution, which may end up making things worse.”

When I finished talking, I turned to the first person to my right at the table, who happened to be the manager. As he started talking, it was obvious he was uncomfortable. He fumbled through the first minute or so of what he was trying to say, becoming even more uncomfortable—his face turned red, there were long pauses, and he looked at me as if to say, “Do I really have to do this?” Then, all of a sudden after another long pause, he started to talk about his wife, his kids, and some challenges going on at home. As he started to talk about this personal stuff, something dramatically changed in the energy of that room (as is often the case when someone gets real).

He then said, “Look, you know I’m a pretty private guy. I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff at work. Doing this exercise is uncomfortable for me. But, I’ve got all this stressful stuff going on at home, then I come to work and things are so challenging here, not just with the work but due to the fact that we’re not getting along, we’re not communicating, and we don’t seem to trust each other. I know we’ve gotten into a lot of arguments as a team, and I’ve gotten into it with a number of you one-on-one in my office. Even though I often act like it’s your fault, and I’ll admit that I do like to be right—who doesn’t?—the truth is I feel like I’m failing as a leader. If you really, really knew me, you’d know that in all my years of being a manager, I’ve never had this kind of difficulty with any group I’ve worked with, and I don’t really know what to do.”

It was an amazing moment of realness and vulnerability for him and the entire team. His authentic expression gave everyone in the room permission to open up and get real themselves. As we went around the table, each of the other seven people on this team (all of whom happened to be men, by the way) really lowered their waterline and shared what was going on in their lives, how they were feeling about work and the team, and whatever else they wanted to say to each other. They got real in a vulnerable way.

When we finished the exercise, I looked at everyone in the group and said, “I want to acknowledge each of you for your courage and willingness to get real.” Then I asked a simple but important question: “From this place where we are right now, what do we need to talk about, address, and resolve over these next few hours for you guys to feel safe to be yourselves with one another and work through your conflicts?”

We proceeded to have a conversation over the next few hours about the issues they had identified—not a theoretical discussion about authenticity, communication, and trust, but a real conversation about what was going on for them as individuals and as a group, and how they could be real and trust each other in a genuine way. It was beautiful.

They didn’t miraculously transform from being a non-trusting, dysfunctional team with everyone protecting themselves into being a high-performing team where people felt total freedom to be themselves, speak their truth, and trust one another completely in the span of a few hours. However, what they had done gave them permission to be real with one another and themselves, which was incredibly valuable and empowering. In doing so, they cracked the door open to a deeper level of trust and communication, which made a big difference.

They still had some work to do to repair their relationships, resolve conflicts, and open up lines of communication in a sustainable way. So I stayed in touch with them over the next few months, and things did start to change positively as a result of our session and the real conversations that took place that day.

As I learned from this group and have learned from working with individuals, teams, and groups of all kinds over the past 13 years, righteousness is one of the most damaging energies in our world and realness is often the antidote. Not only is it impossible to be right all the time, it’s exhausting, stressful, and no fun (for us or others). The great saying, “You can either be right or happy, not both,” is so true!

Each member of that team had justifiable reasons to not be real with the people around them. Understandably, it didn’t feel safe due to the lack of trust and the unresolved conflicts that existed in that environment. However, when they each took responsibility for their own part in creating the situation and got real about how they were feeling, something began to shift. In other words, they let go of being right about what was wrong with those around them and the situation, and they started to get real about what was true for them personally.

When we’re willing to lower our waterline and get real, we can liberate ourselves from unnecessary and unhelpful self-protection, righteousness, and disconnection. Down below the waterline is where our truth lies and where real freedom exists.