The Best Way To Say No

Suzette BrawnerGeneral

“No.” “Nope.” “Never.” “Not going to happen.” These are powerful and discouraging words depending on if you’re saying them or hearing them. Every day we have to say “No” to employees, kids, contractors, clients, and the Girl Scouts and their cookies. We’re also on the receiving end of “No” and we don’t like it. It can be frustrating and sometime even embarrassing depending on how “No” is dealt with.

Our first and natural response when told just plain “No” without explanation or clarification is to immediately become defensive. Knowing how that feels should be great instruction on how to say “No” without knocking the wind out of the one you have to decline.

Here are some reminders for when you have to say “No”:

  • If someone is requesting money for the local animal shelter or time volunteering to plant trees in the community, why do we instantly feel threatened? Probably because if we don’t give we might look like animal haters and if we don’t volunteer we come across as bad citizens. Get over yourself; strangers don’t think about you that much. Smiling, simply say something like, ”Wow, I really appreciate what you are doing for _______________. I know it takes a lot, but I’m going to have to say no. Again, thanks for all you do.” You just said “No” and they feel good about what they are doing.
  • When an idea is suggested in a meeting you’re in charge of, listen carefully as if it’s the most important thing you’ve heard in a long time. No matter how far out or ridiculous it sounds, never instantly say, ”No, that will never work.” Think of a positive comment even if it’s only, ”Now that’s an idea.” Many times people are thinking out loud without considering details. Never squash creativity, because the thought out and formulated idea may be a winner.
  • When permission is being requested and not just, “No” but “No Way” is the first response, hold on. Whether it’s a teen wanting to go to a party or an employee requesting to change departments, ask the person requesting to explain why they want what they think they want. After thinking through and sharing their explanation, often they will realize why it’s not a good idea. They feel validated for having been heard and in control because they came to the conclusion on their own. You won’t have to say anything.

If you do have to say “No” put yourself in the shoes of the person hearing it. Always remember to say it in the kindest, easiest-to-receive way because that’s how you’d like to hear it yourself.

 

Think About What You’re Thinking About

Suzette BrawnerGeneral

Statistics show positive and negative thoughts can’t occupy brain space at the same time.  If that’s not a real stat I think it should be.  I’ve done my own not-so-scientific research and results always prove this; thoughts and words are either on a positive track or a negative track, but never on both tracks at the same time. Like a train, our thinking has to enter a roundhouse to make a turn around.

A day can start in the thinking chair with a hot cup of coffee reviewing how grateful and happy I am when a thought slips into the roundhouse. Something someone said or did last week, or last month, has the ability to turn everything in the opposite direction.

Then the monolog in my brain begins: “I can’t believe that happened to me.  How embarrassing! She did that on purpose. She’s been my friend forever but who needs friends like that. Blah, blah, blah… Besides her clothes are always a little bit too revealing.  She’s probably after my husband anyway!”

The gears start grinding and a lifelong friend is now a husband-stealing hoochie momma all because thoughts entered the roundhouse and came out a run-away train.  Like the swirly contraption at fast food restaurants kids beg to put a quarter in, thoughts circle and circle in a downward spiral until they drop off into the negative thinking vortex. Then we wear ourselves trying to climb back out.

We don’t have control over a lot but our thoughts are on the short list of things we can boss around. How we think becomes our reality, either positive or negative. The secret to spending more time happy than frustrated is to think about what we are thinking about and change direction if necessary.

Respect The Tick

Suzette BrawnerGeneral

ticks_bite_magnets-r43170f91f96e410a9e6e5686fef91066_x7js9_8byvr_324Mom’s voice echoes in my head when I hear the word respect. “Respect your teachers, respect public authority, respect street signs,” she would say.  “Respect other people’s property and, of course, respect your parents.”

In my opinion, respect falls into three categories; admiration, fear, and a combo of the two.  In the admiration column might be athletes for their accomplishments, inventors for their discoveries, and writers for their books. Basically these are people we really don’t know, but would enjoy having coffee with.

On the respect-out-of-fear list are policemen with radar, the bully in 5th grade, and the principal at any school.  These are people we really don’t want to get to know better.  We’re comfortable respecting them from a distance.

A few in the combo group are our parents, a favorite teacher, a boss. We admire them and have a respectful fear of them. We don’t want to disappoint them.

In the past few weeks I have developed a new respect, one I never knew I really needed …respect for the tick.  Growing up in Arkansas and living most of my life in southern Missouri I’ve always considered ticks a nuisance, not a threat.  Over the years I’ve pulled hundreds of them off my kids, my husband, my dogs and myself without really thinking about consequences, until now.  Orange alert for terrorist ticks is up and running.

I’m the unlucky victim of a tick carrying Ehrlichiosis, one of the several tick borne illnesses which include, Lyme disease, Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, and some I can’t spell or pronounce.  Who knew such a tiny thing could take a person down?

Raging fever, flu like body aches times 10, and ridiculous headaches had me negotiating with God, “I really want to see the grandkids grow up, but if you need me now, I’m good with that.”

My doctor holds my highest respect. She went on suspicion and intuition before blood tests were positive.  My friend, MIssy, has unnecessarily suffered with Lyme disease for two years because she was misdiagnosed for five months.

A month since a trip to the ER has passed and life is better, not back to normal, but better.  Jim Brawner says I sleep a lot of my waking hours, and I do.  Like an electric car, I go then suddenly run out of juice and have to be plugged in for more energy.  I’ve been told it will take time to be full speed again.  Being the not-so-patient person I am, this is challenging.

I’m now officially a statistic with the Taney County Health Department and the Center for Disease Control.  As crummy and inconvenient as this is, I’m grateful it’s a tick borne illness statistic not a cancer statistic.

So beware of the Ninja Ticks.  Evidently, because of a warm winter and rainy spring, we have an overpopulation of them in Missouri. Stock up on OFF! and respect them like the 5th grade bully.

Did I Say That?

Suzette Brawnerattitude, kids growing up, parenting

If you want a glimpse of real life, watch kids.  No doubt they keep things real, no pretenses, no faking it.  They ask honest questions and call life as they see it. Somewhere along the way kids figure out it’s often best to just stay quiet and listen. I remember Mom explaining that was being tactful … just thinking, but not actually saying what you are thinking.

But we all know those, even though they’re way past kindergarten, who haven’t figured out the art of tact.  Maybe I’m naive, but I’d like to believe those people aren’t really mean, they just get their mouths going faster than their brains.

As much as I would like to think my Southern upbringing embedded tact into part of my character, I find myself occasionally saying things other than, “Bless her heart.”  I literally had to cover over my mouth recently to keep what I wanted to say from leaking out.

I watched a conversation in a restaurant not long ago that could be used as an instruction video on how communicate with another human.  As each person spoke the other listened with locked eye contact.  Before responding, the listener paused for a couple of beats as if digesting what she had just heard. Both obviously understood the art of communication; no texting, no starring off into space, no interrupting.  My Mom would say they were being very tactful.

Is tact becoming a lost art?  Maybe.  Or are we so unaware of our surroundings because we’re so focused on our own agendas?  We want what we want, when we want it and get frustrated with anyone in our way.  That’s when dumb things, even kindergarteners know shouldn’t be said, are said.  And our blood pressures jump 10 points.

So I’m challenging myself to slow down and be more aware of what comes out of my mouth.  I want to be a good listener and think before I speak.  It has to lower stress. And it surely will lower the risk of being tacky.

 

 

 

 

Black Cars

Suzette Brawnerattitude

I don’t know much about cars.  Most of the time when asked what kind of car I drive, I say, “Black”.  The thought of looking for a car, comparing all the prices and gas mileage equations, then haggling with the sales force makes me need a nap. I’m really not choosy about what I drive, mostly because of my lack of car knowledge.  In my opinion the most important thing about a car is cup holder placement.  My car has 10 in strategic locations.

The greatest thing Jim Brawner has ever done for me was buy a car and ask me to meet him at the dealership.  The salesman handed me the keys, I got in, adjusted the seat and mirrors and drove away. Is that romantic or what?

The other day, after a mind numbing stroll through TJ MAXX, I opened the door to get into my car, but it wasn’t my car.  It was black, it was an SUV type of vehicle, but the silver 5 inch heels in the floor of the passenger seat weren’t mine.  I jumped back and shut the door, then looked around to see if anyone was watching. It was like stumbling and acting like it was on purpose.

I quickly found my car two spots further down the row and wondered if I should go back and wipe off my finger prints.  I called Jill.  “You will never believe what I just did,” I said, watching the other black car.

Silence.  “OK, well maybe you will.”

She laughed, “What did you do this time.”

My pride a bit wounded, I replayed the last few minutes.

“What kind of car was it, Mom.”

I quickly got out and looked.  “Oh brother! Mercedes,” I sighed, as I got back in my car. “But, they look so much alike.”

“Mom, there is a big difference in a Toyota and a Mercedes Benz!  A Mercedes has a whole lot more fancy going on.”

I hung up promising to be more careful in parking lots. On the way home I stopped at a light behind a white SUV with fish and hog decals on either side of the Mercedes emblem.  The driver must be a fancy, Christian, Razorback fan, I thought.  At least I recognized a Mercedes this time.

I’m reading a book, Mud And The Masterpiece, my friend Amy Stillings gave me. It’s one of those perspective shifters full of challenges about how we look at people. The author, John Burke, points out that we humans are quick to slap labels on each other, especially those who don’t look, talk, think or smell like we do. It makes me squirm a little.

Reading that reminded me how quickly I made assumptions about the woman at the traffic light .  I didn’t know her at all, but I labeled her. She may not have it all together even though she has a fish on her fancy car.  She might be dealing with a lot of hurt and mud in her life.  And, just maybe she was driving her sister-in-law’s car and it wasn’t even hers.

John Burke also asks if the reader has ever considered how Jesus looked at people and if that’s how we see and treat others.  Jesus chose compassion and grace as opposed to arrogance and being a jerk.  After I read that part I had to put the book down for a while.

I’ve been reminded of  a couple of things.  First: I’m not called to judge and label people, I’m supposed to love and encourage. I’m really working on that. I made a comment the other day about a man who was a bit scary looking and instantly reminded myself;  I don’t even know him.

Second:  All black cars, especially the SUV type, look the same to me.  Maybe I should start looking at people the same way.

 

One Moment Please…

Suzette Brawnerattitude

 The next time I call customer service, especially for utility companies,   I’m going to take a couple of laps up and down the street then pause for deep breathing and stretching before I pick up the phone. I might roll with the call a little calmer if I warm up before.  What I always think will be quick, turns into 20 minutes of navigating the circuit maze.  Simple is nowhere in the equation. You’d think by now I’d learn.  I guess I still hold on to hope that I might here a real voice say, “One moment please.”

This was my one sided conversation the other day:

“Thank you for calling ____________.  Please listen carefully as our menu options have changed.”

Has every company in the country changed menu options?

“Our customer satisfaction is of utmost importance.  Please hold while your call is being transferred.”

During the long silence I caught myself saying “Hello? Hello?” followed by a blast of 80’s music.

“Due to the heavy call volume you may want to refer to our website’s frequently asked questions.”

“No I called to speak to a person.  I don’t think the answer to why I’m being charged a city tax when I live in the county will be on the list”, I said back to the recording.

“In order to better direct you, please choose one of the following: billing, service connect, service disconnect, agent.”

“Agent.”

“Did you say billing?”

I tried to sound out agent to make it sound like billing to see how it was mistaken. This only confused the machine.

“Let’s try that again”, the computer said in its most caring voice.

“A g e n t!”  I repeated it with all the clarity I could find.

“Did you say connecting new service?”

“No!  I clearly said AGENT!!,” I yelled, as if volume increases understanding.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand you. Goodbye.”

Unbelievable!  I just wanted to speak to a breathing human.  So once again I handed my composure over to a computer.

Last month’s word was peace, but this month’s word is perseverance.  Now if only I could persevere in peace I’d have it made.

Image credit: kbslenglishg.wickispaces.com

 

Peace, Love, And All That

Suzette Brawneradvice

Pat’s name came up in a discussion the other day.  She’s a friend I don’t see very often, but when I do, I always wish I could spend more time with her.  She makes me smile.

Several years ago I was all wound up about who knows what when we met for lunch.  After listening to me vent for 10 minutes straight, she laughed and smiled and said, “Oh well”.

“Oh well?  Are you kidding me?  This is not good,” I whined.

“Honestly, Suzette, what can you do about it?”

After a pause to get up from that knock down, I grinned. “Absolutely nothing.”

I just finished a book by Debbie Macomber, One Perfect Word.  The premise is to take a word to study and focus on for a whole year.  She evidently has done this for 20 some odd years.   I decided to take a word a month.  A year might wear me out.

So the word this month has been peace.  It’s been a bit painful which really doesn’t sound right.  But just like Pat asking me what I could do about my seemingly hopeless situation, I have been reminded what snatches my peace is mostly junk I can do nothing about.

I’ve discovered I hand my peace over to people I don’t even know at the Walmart Supercenter, at the license bureau, and the post office.  I hand my peace over to a computer or a long hold on the phone with an insurance company.  I hand my peace over to tourists from Iowa who drive 30 in a 45mph zone.  How dare I do that?  It’s my own stinking fault.

I’ve learned why it’s called peace of mind … because that’s really the only place peace exists.  Our perspective about a situation, not the situation itself, is where peace begins. It’s simply a decision to let it go and one I have to make several times hourly.  For me it will likely be a lifetime of giving it away and taking it back. I’m a slow learner.

Maybe when I’m really old peace will just be a part of who I am.  Maybe.

Now to decide what the next word of the month should be.

“A heart at peace gives life to the body…”   ~Proverbs 14:30

photo credit: stockfreeeimages.com

Dive Under Or Ride It In

Suzette Brawnerfamily

ocean-wave                                                                                                       Photo credit:ahisgett (creative comons)

When I was growing up, January was decision making time for our week long summer family vacation. Mom, Dad, my brother, Russ, and I didn’t like change much so we usually unanimously voted to go to the beach in Florida or south Alabama.  One year Mom and Dad thought it sounded educational to go though Williamsburg on the way to Virginia beach.  They lost eight year old Russ for a couple of hours at one of the historical sites.  He was in a theater watching a 20 minute Colonial history movie over and over and over.  The next year we went back to Alabama.

Every day the vacation schedule was about the same.  Breakfast in the hotel dining room, the morning split between the beach and pool, then lunch and repeat for the afternoon.  We always saved one day for deep sea fishing.  The Virginia Beach summer Russ ate too many blueberry pancakes before boarding the fishing boat. That disaster needs no description.

On the beach Russ and I would spend hours right at the edge of the surf where the waves broke. One afternoon we watched a beautiful lady with extra long legs wade out to pose for a picture. We tried to warn her about the huge wave coming but she just smiled at us. It knocked her down and pushed her upon the shore like a beached manatee.  She got up with her swim suit top around her waist saying words I’d never heard before.  She wasn’t from Alabama. Cussing sounds a little less crass in French.

I learned a very important lesson from the beach. When a wave is coming, you really only have 2 good choices … dive under it or ride it in.  I ate a lot of sand figuring out that concept. Trying to solve a problem the other day I remembered Russ and the waves and how many times we spit out sand before learning to either dive under or ride it in.

I suppose as adults, when waves of challenge are headed toward us, the choices are about the same as they are when we’re kids at the beach; dive under, ride it in, or eat sand and cuss in French.

“Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you.”    ~Proverbs 2:11

 

The Trap

Suzette BrawnerChristmas Tree, comparison, cookies, first grade, traps

There’s just something about glue and glitter that brings creative out in even the most linear thinkers.  In first grade one of my proudest moments was presenting Mom the Christmas tree I’d designed at school.  It was the second draft.  I thought the first one was signature worthy until I looked around the table.  At six I learned about the danger of comparison.  Just catching a glance of Anne and Wesley’s trees sent the first draft under my desk.

Then I grew up, sort of.  I caught myself comparing all kinds of Christmas everything the other day.  And I wonder why I clench my teeth.  It’s such a trap.  Comparing my shoes or my hair is like stepping on a mouse trap, maybe even bare footed if it’s really good hair on one of my bad hair days.  But Christmas traps …. those are like the ones in old Tarzan movies where holes are covered with tree branches hiding the trap for an unsuspecting bad guy or tiger. You’re minding your own business and BOOM you’re at the bottom of the pit declaring your cookies with never be good enough.

How can we get so off course?  I suppose it’s because there’s so much to compare this time of year.  I’d imagine it makes Jesus sad watching all the silliness.  Take a minute today to remember why we decorate and bake anyway.

The 30 Day Challenge

Suzette BrawnerChallenge, marriage, persistence

 

In the last few years there have been plenty of 30 day challenges, things like losing weight, random acts of kindness, and P90X killer workouts.  I usually don’t jump in because I’m prone to not make the 30 days because of what I think are valid excuses. And nothing beats me up more than starting something and not finishing.

The craziest challenge I took on and completed was 365 days posting on the blog in 2010.  I thought that one up all by myself and two years I’m still wondering why. OK, that was a little overboard, but now I fully understand the meaning of burn out.  Certainly that’s why my posts have been sketchy at best.  I’m finally ready to write again.

It’s the last official day for the 30 day November grateful journey. I, of course, didn’t take the challenge. However this morning when I heard Jim Brawner get out of bed, I was overwhelmed with gratefulness: grateful he’s the father of my three kids and Big to my gaggle of grandkids, grateful he is such a man of integrity and loyalty, and grateful he loves me in spite of me.

I suppose when I married him while we were both still in college, I did take on a challenge of sorts, kind of a lifetime challenge. Anyone who says marriage isn’t challenging is lying or taking too much Valium.  But, I suppose all of our trials and highs and lows have only made us stronger.  Mistakes yes, regrets none, because trial and error have made us who we are.

Grateful I took that challenge a long time ago … you bet.  There’s no one I’d rather do life with than Jim Brawner.