Security rests in adaptability. Our current uncertain times can either freeze us from action, or create a space where we strengthen our ability to adapt. Remember, survival is based on "requisite variety". That's a fancy biological term that basically means the organism that has the greatest number of responses to a situation has the greater chance of surviving. Watts Wacker, a noted futurist, offers things we can do to gain more options for ourselves: Learn to be a better listener. You don't learn when you are talking. Read a trade magazine from a different industry. Find two things in every issue that relate to your business. Let your kids tutor you in a subject they know more about than you do. Volunteer, and see the world through a different window. Read what has stood the test of time. Read Aristotle, Shakespeare, Adam Smith. Reading the great books helps frame your thinking.

In the scheme of culinary talent, I cook a little better than average. The operative word is "cook". I cook killer soups: soups that vary in ingredients and size; soups that range from stick-to-the-ribs to light-and-fancy; soups that contain whatever leftovers haunt the Tupperware containers. But baking? That's another matter. Personally, I have this aversion to following recipes. Maybe that's why I like soups. Broth is pretty forgiving about whatever you add to it. But baking—there's the rub. Fail to follow directions and angel food cake tastes like the devil. Brownies turn into blackies. And lemon chiffon pie tastes like Chiffon dish detergent. All this makes my lemon cake nothing short of a miracle. I don't follow the recipe (natch!) and the result is a tangy confection that can be frozen and sliced into delicate pieces of pure delight. It has become my signature dessert for guests and a gift I send to friends, to colleagues, and to clients. Besides its mouthwatering sweet/sour deliciousness, folks seem just blown away by the fact that I took the time in this too time-intense world to bake them a cake. I realize the power of the old Pillsbury ad: "Nothing says lov'n like something from the oven…." Lemon cake has become the metaphor that connects our relationship. You, too, have your own version of lemon cake. What time will you spend to connect with someone who is important to you?

John is like many sales folks. He's clever, competent, competitive and VERY hungry. In fact, looking at his bank account, he's begun to feel some panic when he sees that his services aren't being retained at the normal clip. Face it, John is scared. The desperation comes out in conversation. "I've just got to book some business. I'm making tons of cold calls a day. I think I've lost my edge. Why aren't people hiring me?" The answer: because John is TRYING to sell. He's focusing on himself and his need. And the self-service inevitably comes out. What's John to do? (1) Stop cold calling. It's only feeding his feelings of rejection. The negative spiral just sends him deeper into deeper pit. (2) Go back to his files and look for clients with whom he had a great rapport and did good work. Read the files and then visualize the relationship he had with them. (3) Call these past clients but not to sell. Instead, it's time to let them talk about their current state of affairs, how they are doing, and just catch up. If there's a way John can help them, great. But that's NOT the object of the call. John's call is strictly to be of service with no personal agenda. That's it. Results? John finds himself relaxing into his natural state of being. His finds that's clients are delighted to hear from him. One or two begin talking about new ways they might use his service. He makes a few appointments. This is not a fairy tale. It happened to a wonderful sales colleague whom I coached. She discovered that when she let go of her needs, her internal well began to fill up with fresh ideas, renewed relationships, and possibilities for work driven by the clients and not by her. Serving beats selling many days.

It started at the rental car turn-in location. My friend is a "platinum" with Hertz - a great benefit I discovered when the rental agencies are a considerable distance from the terminal. Our driver grinned as she slide into the driver's seat and said she could hardly wait for school to begin. Turns out she's a school bus driver and with her seniority, she gets to pick her route. Her passion: autistic children. "I just love 'em," she grinned. "I get them again this year." Fascinating. Sincere. And difficult. We stopped to grab a bite of lunch before long flights. The waitress excitedly nodded when we ordered the cashew chicken sandwich. "It's our new menu. We just got it yesterday. That's a great choice!" She grinned and gave us a two-thumbs up signal. I don't know about you, but I rarely get service help excited by a menu. It was as if SHE personally made the sandwich. Fascinating. Sincere. And standing on your feet all day - difficult. At an adjacent Frontier airlines gate, I asked where was my plane and how come no rep was at the gate. "Listen," she laughed, "it's also my gate. I can do amazing things. Watch how quick I get this plane loaded. I'll do the same for yours. You'll see." I did. I's almost 6pm on a Sunday night and folks are cranky and tired. Not my gate attendant. True to her word, she efficiently started the process AND took time to actually read every boarding pass and call the passenger my name. She patted my arm when I went through. "See, Eileen. Told you I could do this." Fascinating. Sincere. And the job of a gate agent is difficult - very difficult. My seat mate was a young man, a rotating guidance counselor for grades 6-12 in the Costa Mesa, CA school district. "There aren't many men in my line of work - and particularly men of color," he remarked offhandedly. "DO you like what you do?" I asked. His eyes opened wide and he offered a wide smile. "I love it. I really feel like I am making a difference. So many of these kids have no one to talk to-- no one to model the right behavior." He proceeded to tell me a series of stories that would break your heart. "I'™s when they come back after they leave school that is most rewarding. You just never know if what you say today will suddenly click in years later." Fascinating. Sincere. And difficult - very VERY difficult. In each instance, the joy came from how each connected with another human being. It was the CONNECTION that made the most. Not the money. Not the title. The eyes staring at each other. The hands reaching out to help. Fascinating. Sincere. And maybe - with deliberate intent we could try it. Might NOT be all that difficult.

Dr. Howard Conn in Irvine, CA is a brilliant ophthalmologist and specialist in cosmetic laser surgery for the face. I went to see him for eyelid surgery. Sure I am thrilled with the results, but even more thrilled by his attention to service and truth. How many doctors would spend a FREE one-hour consultation and talk you OUT of an expensive procedure because it wasn't in your best interest? How many doctors would call you to check in and see how you are doing? How many doctors would give you their home number and cell number "in case of questions?" I only know one who does that: Dr. Howard Conn. This past week, I went to see him again. My appointment was for 2:30. Immediately at 2:30, he stepped into the waiting room and said that a procedure had just come up and he'd be delayed about 30-40 minutes. He could tell that I didn't have that kind of time. Instantly, he invited me back into an examining room and asked why I had come. I pulled out photos from a recent gathering and pointed-now--to my under-eyelid bags. Yes, he's helped the drooping upper lids, but what about this? He gently explained that I had no fat under my eyes and a very expressive face. "You'd not like the results in a few years," he explained. "Just keep smiling." He then wrote out a prescription for eye drops to help with the start of an inflammation I pointed out and wished me well. "No charge," he said. "See, there's always something good even if you didn't get the answer you wanted." I grinned at him, saggy bags and all. Now that's service and truth. And you, my clients, readers and friends, will just have to like me as I am :)

Is it my imagination or has service gone the way of the dodo bird, tax breaks for small cars, and an 8-hour workday? Here's my proof: Within one 24 hour period, I thought I had landed on a strange planet, spoke no English, and furthermore, was penalized for wanted to (gasp!) spend money with a business. First - there's the voice mail roulette. How many times have we slammed down a phone in dismay because not ONE option was what we wanted? But this call was even more absurd. The scenario: the digital avatar's voice saying, "Let me get some information first." You know you're in for a bad time when you say "no", and the digital sweetie says, "I'm sorry. I do not understand that word." It was one of my choices, for Pete's sake! How many different languages does it take to say NO!!!! Second deal breaker: I keep trying to get an operator. I press "o". "I'm sorry," says the avatar. "That is not an option." I start screaming "operator". "I'm sorry," says the avatar. "That is not an option." Don't ask me how I finally broke through to a human but when I did, I was informed that the response which would have gotten me immediately to a human was "agent." Now gang, I was not calling the airlines - though it is hard to believe. It was a phone company. Since when do they have "agents"? Final straw: I am now trying to get an 800 number. Another digital voice says, "I'm sorry. Our office hours are from 8 - 5:00pm EST. Please call back." Excuuuuuuuse me.! That means that those of us in the other time zones are non-customers. So, this is going to make "the competitive edge" really simple. Answer your phone. And if you can do it right away - get back within a 24 hour or less period. LISTEN to people when they call. Return every phone call. And make yourself available when the customer needs you. (Heck - on the West Coast, I take calls at 6:00am. I'm not a hero - but it IS 9:00am in Boston.) Simple. Doable. And not rocket science.