Don’t Be Dumb

My best friend and I have a thing we say to each other when one or the other of us is behaving like a toddler.  I might be whining about what a bad friend I’ve been (the kind of whine that’s really designed to elicit reassurance that I have not, in fact, been a bad friend at all but that I have rather been a quite wonderful friend, the type one would pray for by her bedside when she was a little girl), and instead of that, I get, “Don’t be dumb”.  Or she might be going on about how she’s not sure if she can do a thing, how it might be out of her ability reach, though there’s never been a thing she could not do once she set her mind to it, and “Don’t be dumb” will be what I say as if it’s a conjunction, moving us on to other things. 

“Don’t be dumb.” It’s a pivoting phrase for us.  A gentle tap on the shoulder that urges us to get over ourselves. And at its utterance, immediately we do.  We just get on about the business of whatever is next.

It’s a pivoting phrase for us.  A gentle tap on the shoulder that urges us to get over ourselves. And at its utterance, immediately we do.  We just get on about the business of whatever is next.  It’s a tool we’ve used for years to keep us from carving out angst holes where a peaceful road should be.  But its usefulness doesn’t stop there.  “Don’t be dumb” also serves our friendship by jolting us to see the obvious when our eyes are glazed or reminding us, when our emotions are peaked, to simply walk away.  That simple phrase has tethered us to a way of behaving that helps us be who we most want to be—individually and together.  It’s become our iron string.

And that’s something every heart is in need of, especially collective ones that are bound together.  Ones who, individually, might naturally vibrate to very different things.  

Anybody responsible for the behavior of others is taxed, at the start, with the creation of a set of rules or standards or expectations for the people in the group.  CEO’s, managers, coaches, parents—anybody who’s in charge—know that clear expectations are the linchpin for positive group results.  Culture is the hot word we wrap around that concept these days, but it’s really just a trendy way of saying “this is how we, as people in a group together, have agreed we will behave”.  

Girl distracted by her cell phone

But, as leaders, we get it all muddied up sometimes. We overthink and overstate and, though our manicured set of behavior guidelines comes from the best of intentions, our desire to be thorough drives us to be anything but clear.

But, as leaders, we get it all muddied up sometimes. We overthink and overstate and though our manicured set of behavior guidelines comes from the best of intentions, our desire to be thorough drives us to be anything but clear.  So many things matter—respect, love, trust, accountability, discipline—the list goes on for days.  But a too long list can get confusing, and words that don’t convey action float in the mind like puffy clouds that are impossible to get your arms around. 

I know I was forever guilty of asking for too many invisible things.   And if I had to do it again, I think I’d throw my dart at the heart of the matter and let the margins take care of themselves.   In fact, I might pare it down to this:   “Do Your Job, Pick Up Trash, and Don’t Be Dumb. “

 In the spirit of “less is more”, I really think this about covers it.  Whatever the “it” might be.

Do your job, pick up trash, and don't be dumb

If I had to do it again, I think I’d throw my dart at the heart of the matter and let the margins take care of themselves.   In fact, I might pare it down to this:   “Do Your Job, Pick Up Trash, and Don’t Be Dumb. “.

I mean, what organization wouldn’t be better if everybody in it just did their job?  Not one another’s jobs, just theirs.  Not what they want to do.  Not what they deem to be the most important thing to do. Not what they think they’ll get the biggest bang for doing.  Just the job they’ve been assigned. It sounds too ridiculous to even type.  But things that come apart at the seams almost always start unraveling when someone doesn’t do what they are supposed to do.  And the reasons for that are many.  It could be laziness or incompetence or distractedness or mental or physical fatigue.  The list of possibilities goes on and on and on.  But when people don’t do what they’re supposed to do, bad things happen.  If we could only remember to worry most about the things with which we have been personally charged, a lot would get done better…and faster.  A lot would probably be much less apt to ultimately come undone. 

And I’d hold a hard line when it comes to trash.  It may seem like a picky detail, but it’s an outgrowth of a bigger picture that has to do with where you keep your eyes.  Because before you can pick up trash, you have to see it.  And you can’t see it if you’re always looking down.  That means you can’t walk around with your eyes on your phone or your head stuck up your backside, focused only on your narcissistic self.  People need to look up and out and to see.  And to make things better in whatever way they can.  Even if it seems miniscule at the moment. “Picking Up Trash” also means that you recognize your role as a steward of the planet and the people on it–a person who comes after one and before another—a cog in the chain link of civilization who bears the responsibility of taking care of someone and something other than yourself.

The rest, I think, gets covered in the vat of “Don’t Be Dumb”.

I have a preacher friend who says that he sometimes gets asked by new Christians how they are supposed to know what they should and shouldn’t do.  And he said he just tells them to write “Jesus is the Boss of Me” on a sign and hang it by their bed.  That pretty much supplies all the intel one might need. 

Desired behavior never just happens.  It’s not a cosmic explosion, but more likely a boring march of sound decisions, often nudged by a verbal rudder fashioned out of everyday words.  All we have to do is find ours.

Sherri Coale


P.S. You had one job!


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