No Mow
Like clockwork, I get a haircut every 14 days. I spend many a summer Saturday giving my yard regular haircuts, too, even before it seems obvious to anybody but me that it’s time to mow. There’s just something uniquely satisfying about the order and routine nature of a good trim to my lawn and to my noggin’ that simply makes things seem right in the world.
This sign at a South Austin elementary school made me laugh. It was also cause for pause to snap a shot of it as I considered why and how it got planted there.
Has there ever been a springtime in Texas as alive with wildflowers than this one? Fortunately, the prize that awaits those who can resist mowing too soon or too close are glorious wildflowers and most of them show up as volunteers.
In his excellent book, The Trusted Advisor, David Maister suggests that one mistake commonly made by consultants for hire--more often than all other errors combined--is a lot like mowing too soon by simply jumping ahead to drive for action before it is time. He describes that in early conversations with clients and prospects, we nod our heads vigorously, often interjecting “uh-huh” and knowingly demonstrating that we “get it” to prove we are ultra-quick studies. We may ask a couple of clever killer questions before we voice the voila—rushing ahead to the answer and dazzling them with our insight and brilliance. Like an impetuous first-grader waving his hand with great zeal, we do so without knowing what is behind and beyond the obvious. In doing so, I think we sometimes rob ourselves of the genuine prize.
Maister points out that often the client then backs off. It seems that even if the answer is “absolutely, completely 100 percent correct,” the author writes, “the client will not buy it (in fact, will resist buying it) until and unless you earn the right to even discuss a problem statement. You have not earned that right.”
By skipping ahead, we tend to crank up the mowers a bit too soon before waiting for something much richer and more rewarding, which is earning the client’s confidence and the cherished invitation to come inside their world as trusted advisors.
Maister strikes a nerve when he writes: “Action feeds our desire to show that we are the answer experts,” then adding the interesting point of why we do so. He lists these reasons:
1. The human tendency is to focus on ourselves.
2. The belief that we’re selling only content.
3. The desire for tangibility.
4. The search for validation (Call it the ‘Stuart Smalley’ need).
As consultants, we have a healthy respect for ourselves. We can sometimes be hopelessly self-focused, trusting what we know before giving the client time to first trust us and how we might know. It takes some courage to discount what we know, to rein in our instincts and habits that rush us to deliver answers. It takes wisdom to value the premium the client places on deeper listening to understand versus our desire to be recognized as experts.
Ironically, as traveling communications consultants doing business across Texas, I suspect we are guilty of mowing down a few bluebonnets before it is time, before they get the chance to blossom.
So…no mow. That’s a good guide for today.
This message gratefully brought to you via a handmade sign, a good business book and a schoolyard aching to bust out in bluebonnets.
