It was a normal Wednesday. Hump Day they call it. I straggled home at sundown to see a police car parked in front of the house. A policeman was at the door; another stood against the wall, hidden out of sight. My neighbor had called and complained about my dog barking. She wanted them to write me a ticket. It was a tough charge to deny. I could hear Cushla’s serial baritone booming like thunder, easily drowning out the other neighbors’ yap dogs—as my wife likes to call them.
I had not expected to be gone so long. For the second afternoon rush hour in a row a bad accident gridlocked the interstate. Facing the police with no real defense, I suggested Dennis the Menace, the 7-year-old instigator who lives behind us, probably teased Cushla. His mother was the one who ratted us out. I didn’t understand the problem: What’s forty minutes of sonic booms among neighbors?
I escaped with a warning. The policemen suggested I apologize and mend fences with the neighbor. Then they left, doubting I would.
Dennis and Cushla go back several years now, due partly to the fact that Dennis waves his whiffle ball bat at Cushla to get her motor running. It doesn’t help that he prefers to face our breakfast room and go on the fence instead of running inside to use the loo. Cushla doesn’t like this, nor does my wife. I’m not big on it either; but I was a little boy once and passed the time between allowance Fridays by bugging my neighbors, too.
But Wednesdays are Wednesdays and on Wednesdays stuff happens. Earlier I’d heard from a friend who’s forming a new political party to run for president of Pakistan. I love the guy and wish him great success. He is a man of inordinate gifts and will need them all if elected. His homeland is a tough landscape for any leader to govern.
Also dropping into the electronic in-box—the Walmart of modern communication compared to a real mailbox—was a note from a sales rep in London I coached two years ago. What she wrote means the world to me. I borrow from it now. The letter is slightly edited but largely verbatim.
From: Sara C., Relationship Manager
To: Ted Simendinger Date: September 29, 2010
I’m not too sure that you’ll remember me, as I know that you tutored quite a few of salespeople in the UK … but you said that one day when I found the right space to be in, I should drop you a line and let you know how I got there!
I thought that I should do that now. I’m part way there and definitely on course for the end goal!
I braved it with the (new business) sales team for another 6 months or so before finally realizing that I really was the square peg in the round hole. I managed to persuade them to give me stab at relationship management—and finally think I’m in a job made for me … I love it!
I still get to sell, but I get the opportunity to get in and really understand the client and their business. I learn along the way and enjoy the journey with them through the peaks and sometimes troughs. Its not plain sailing and I have more to learn than I will ever learn in my lifetime but I love the job that I do!
But as I said at the beginning I’m part of the way there; the only problem I have now is managing the workload without feeling I’m giving less than full effort to home and work.
I suppose I also wanted you to know that you made a difference in my daily thinking from the course you ran. I expect you hear that fairly often, sincere and not so sincere, but I still think of the techniques and behaviours you spoke to us about. Even if I haven’t yet mastered the true art of keeping the worry circle below 10, it makes me laugh to think about it (and laughing seems to shrink my neuroses!)
I suppose that I would just like to say thank you for showing a different way to think. It’s not often that things hit home deeply with me and I’m really appreciative of it when it does.
Yours in appreciation,
Sara
I stay in touch with many people throughout the course of a day, week, month or year. Few letters really hit home. Sara’s did because it made me feel special; that what I do, how I go about doing it, and the fact that I care so much about the people I work with really are—even after the fact—important and worthwhile.
When I was young and played sports and already knew everything, my coaches talked a lot but didn’t seem to say much. Now that I’m older, the coaches I’ve had and continue to learn from have somehow gotten smarter. When I worked with Sara perhaps some of her co-workers banished me to the first category. But others, like Sara, honor me by putting me in the second.
I may or may not ever see Sara again, but her kind words will remain with me always.
We are never too old to be a student, nor ever too young to coach. When we coach with passion and sincerity and feel good about our intentions and efforts, we are better able to weather police visits at the door and Dennis the Menace.
But be warned, Dennis: You and I have unfinished business.