doug smith training

We talk at the surface level (when we do talk!) most of the time. The good stuff, the material and the feelings and the knowledge that can help us the most is deeper. Baring our souls. Opening our hearts. Exercising our minds. Why don't we do more of that? As leaders, we should be experts at facilitating deeper conversations. We should create the space for people to feel safe, open, and free to say what they think and feel. We may not agree with them, and given enough time to think and feel openly, they might not even feel that way, either. When we take the time to express, listen, and process, then can get to a deeper place surrounded by better results. Taking a conversation deeper may feel risky but that's where the gold is. Deeper! -- doug smith

Some of the best conversations I have ever been part of started a bit on the excited side. Well, to be honest, they might have been way over the side and into stormy territory. Elevated emotions and loud tones of voice. That is not my preference. I like calm. I like quiet. But, more than that I like understanding. I like to understand the people I talk with and I love it when they understand me. Sometimes that starts and ends calmly and sometimes that includes a little spice. Keep talking.  That's what I've learned. When it feels hard to say, keep talking. When you're so excited that you can hardly keep the words moving forward, keep talking. When the wrong words emerge and you instantly regret it, keep talking. Breathe. Smile (when you can!) and keep talking. Pause generously to listen. Listen to slow your talking down and truly hear what else is being said. Let it season you, inform you, calm you. Listen, and then talk. If you can't talk calmly, keep talking until you

If someone wanted to discuss a problem with you right now, what would you say?  Some days, I just don't have room for any more problems, how about you? Some days I just want to get thru and get some work done. How about you? Some days, though, there is an opportunity to talk about what's going on and if that opportunity passes, it's gone forever. I remember a long car ride up the mountains to Breckinridge, Colorado one Valentine's Day when a problem (or hand-full of problems) unfolded a great opportunity to talk. For reasons still unknown to me, I could not talk. The words would not come. My body language didn't communicate what I was thinking and (perhaps) what I was thinking was too sad to say. I don't know. I wish that I did. What I didn't know at the time was that moment, during those steep climbs, there was an opportunity to resolve problems and that opportunity would never come again so freely, so safely, and so sincerely. It faded away. It was still a