A LESSON FROM THE MAYOR

A question doesn’t need to be complicated to be powerful.  In fact, great questions have a habit of cutting through the noise when you least expect it. I saw this first hand when I worked with Bill de Blasio, former Mayor of New York City. His flaws have been well documented but he was remarkable when it came to asking questions

I spent time with the Mayor during his preps for Town Hall meetings that occurred in different communities around New York City. At these Town Halls he would make a few announcements (i.e, the construction of a new police precinct), and then take questions from the audience for hours. Anyone in attendance could ask a question, and preps for the meetings were intense. The Mayor didn’t want to be caught off guard. They usually took place in a beautiful room in Gracie Mansion on the Upper East Side— his official residence. 
 
Nearly every agency was expected to be present and provide the Mayor with read outs of their activity on the ground. Sewage, crossing guards, policing, it didn’t matter. The Mayor would then pepper the heads of agencies with follow up questions that cleanly sliced to the heart of the matter. The best ones were the simplest and seemed obvious as soon as the words came out of his mouth. And the answers to these questions, provided the talking point that he could share with the public. 

I love questions. And I’m so passionate about them because they are the cornerstone to my coaching philosophy. Powerful questions that come from a true place of curiosity allow clients to pause and make better decisions. I have found that advice can be ignored in the way that a question can’t.
 
Whether I’m coaching someone, faciliating a workshop, or leading a retreat, my main focus is on using questions to unlock larger truths to service my clients. Once those truths reveal themselves, it’s possible to take action and make change.
 
 

A FIFTH GRADE HUMBLING

When I was 23, I taught 5th Grade at an elementary school in Brooklyn. It was my first real job, and probably the hardest one I’ve ever had in my life.

I learned about management from my Principal who had an old school philosophy. She told me that I needed to command respect from my class, otherwise we wouldn’t reach our goals. But that was easier said than done. Respect isn’t commanded, it’s earned.

One day, while conducting a lesson on the American Revolution, I noticed one of my students, Kyle, throwing an orange in the air. He was distracting the class and I asked him to stop. He did not.

At that point, I faced a classic managerial decision: Do I make an example of Kyle for this infraction and send a message to the class or do I wait to address the matter with him in a less public setting?

Feeling my authority tested, I chose to escalate. I angrily marched over to Kyle and demanded he give me the orange.  He refused. Then I leaned over and tried to take it from his hand. As he pulled his hand back, I stumbled and slipped on the floor. I fell down and the class erupted. It was not the outcome I had envisioned. I felt humiliated.

Looking back, I see that my mistake was thinking I needed to be “tough” to be taken seriously as a leader.  And after a long career managing teams, I’ve learned that leading with this energy is both exhausting and a recipe for failure.

Being an effective manager is, at its core, about having a vision and supporting your team to co-create a culture that realizes it.  This happens through clear structures, expectations and solid relationships. Relying on external threats (i.e., yelling and grabbing oranges out of hands) is the fastest way to sour a relationship – and is the epitome of a desperate leader who feels out of control.

The first moment that I acted out of insecurity, I was on a path towards failure--even if I didn’t know it yet.

Today, I coach both newly promoted managers and senior executives – all who are figuring out how to relate to their newfound authority. They want to be respected and they know that taking a punitive approach will undermine their culture. Our work together helps them explore their own leadership style so they can be a dynamic performer and fulfill their potential as a leader.

If you’re interested in developing your leadership in authentic and effective ways, then let’s talk. As your coach I can provide a host of resources to help you get clarity and sharpen your skills in the process.  

Because I promise you that one day in the near future you will see an orange tossed in the air. And when this happens, you want to have the skills to take a deep breath, watch it hit the ground and remember, it’s only an orange—the juice isn't worth the squeeze.

Take Care of Yourselves,

Matt

MY BEST LOSS EVER

The suburbs of New Jerey will not be confused for New York City anytime soon. No one walks, the pizza is questionable and the G train doesn't stop here.  But one thing they deserve credit for is having ample and excellent public tennis courts.
 
As I have adjusted to my new-ish suburban life, tennis has become my North Star. It’s allowed me to find a way to find peace, make new friends and enjoy the process of self-improvement. 
 
I turned to tennis when I grew to loathe the running I’d started during the pandemic. And when I picked up a racket I found that there was a meditative component to tennis that running didn’t offer. Playing is one of the only times that my brain stops racing. My body moves but my mind is quiet. That silence is powerful and always welcome.
 
Then there is the friend component. It’s harder for men to make friends as we get older and life gets more complicated. This is even truer for dads of neurodivergent kids; I hear it all the time in the parent group I run.
 
But as I started to play more, and met people on the court, I started to make friends. It’s easy to understand why. Tennis is a social game and you can tell a lot by a person by how they play. Are they honest about whether a ball is in or out? How do they react when they lose a point? What kind of small talk do they make during switch-overs? I cared less about how good my opponent was and more about how they carried themselves. There’s even a doubles group I played with all winter long,  even on mornings when it was 30 degrees out. I’d be hitting wearing gloves, hats, and long johns. The camaraderie and the competition were always worth it.
 
The other appealing aspect of tennis was that I got better the more I played. Considering how much I talk to clients about slow and steady growth, it was satisfying to witness this improvement in myself. I began watching Instagram reels of tennis instructors around the world, and resorted to YouTube when my strokes hit a wall. I took lessons. I even played with a friend who had an app on his phone that allowed us to tape our matches. For a long time, I couldn’t bear the thought of watching myself, but eventually I relented and it helped. It wasn’t as painful as I thought it might be.
 
During matches, I coach myself, using the same key principles I use with clients. The first is don’t panic! Whether I’m up big, or down big, I try to play the points the same. Making decisions from a place from anxiety never results in good decisions in life or the tennis court. The second is to have gratitude. Even when I’m not thinking about it, I’m feeling it. Anytime I’m out on the court, it’s a blessing. I can use my legs, use my arms, use my brain. Run around. Get my heart rate up. I’m not particularly attached to whether I win or lose, as long as I give my all and show up as my best self. It sounds super cheesy, but it's 100% accurate.
 
I eventually joined a local round-robin tournament of about 40 guys who were roughly the same level as me. Every week I would play with someone new at night or during the weekend. And surprisingly I did pretty well.
 
As the season continued, I kept winning. Every game had to be recorded on a Google spreadsheet, and to my surprise, my oldest son really enjoyed entering the results of my matches. Somehow by the end of the season I remained unbeaten. I went 9-0. And then I made the playoffs. I won my quarter-final match, I won my semi-final match, and then the magic came to an end. I lost to a very capable opponent.
 
After I lost, the first person I texted was my son. This was our exchange:
 
“What happened?”
“I lost.”
“awwww.”
“7-5, 6-2.”
“What happened in the second set?”
“I was tired.”
“ok. You did really good this year.”
“Thanks buddy! I love your support so much. It means a lot to me.”
“Even if you do bad moving up to the next level, you had a good year.”
 
So even though I wish I brought home the gold, it’s safe to say that this was my best loss ever. I’ll keep playing. Keep improving. And whatever happens, I truly appreciate the journey. Always keep your eye on the ball. 

finding satisfaction

Think about a time when an achievement brought you happiness. Was it when you got a raise? Became a parent for the first time? Got elected to office? No matter how special, that feeling of ebullience is never sustained. It can’t be. People spend their lives chasing those moments, but what about the other 99.99% of the time, when life is just life? That’s the power of satisfaction. It can hold the highs and the lows.

Happiness is an emotion that by nature is fleeting. Satisfaction is the engine that takes you over the bumps in the road. This is a philosophy I espouse with my clients as they seek to align their values with their work.
  
But how do you achieve it?
 
It’s not money. I work with very wealthy individuals who wished they were wealthier, or feel trapped by the jobs that afford them their lifestyle. So while it may seem like that's the answer, it's not.
 
It’s not your title at work. It’s not about being a parent. Or being married.  
 
It’s something far more basic.
 
It is about your day-to-day life being aligned with your values and purpose. That means how you show up towards the people around you, and how you feel about the work that you do and the culture around you. That’s it.
 
That’s where I come in. My coaching is beneficial in all settings because it’s the clearest pathway towards achieving satisfaction. At its best, it allows participants to be their full authentic selves and stand up for their ideas and values. It creates pathways that bend towards fulfillment.
 
Just having the space to have these conversations at work can spark new life, and generate new enthusiasm. I’ve seen it happen. Leaders who feel hopeless, find ways to connect with what they want. Given a chance to have these conversations, their eyes light up. The future can seem hopeful because they can articulate what they want, and have the courage to ask for it. And that feels good. That feels satisfying. Happiness will flow in and it will flow out. But the intentionality we bring to our every day is something we can control.
 




 
 

THINK DIFFERENT

Our five-year old son Nathaniel’s official autism diagnosis came earlier this year. It wasn’t a surprise. By the age of three his development started to take a different turn and it just kept turning. It was not in the plans but that’s how life goes. 
 
Before we had Nathaniel, my impressions of autism and neurodiverse (ND) kids came strictly from popular culture and my social network. When I heard about a parent with a special needs child, I had the same reaction you might have when you find out someone has an incurable illness. I felt sympathy and a measure of relief. Like, “damn I’m glad that’s not me, I can’t imagine how hard that would be.” 
 
And then one day you are taking a walk with your son and you notice he starts counting and doesn’t stop. Soon, a calculator becomes an extension of his hand. Numbers fill his brain. That was the time I was less interested in who Nathaniel was, and more interested in who he would become. I would future trip until my eyes bled. And when I did that, it was hard to be present for the good stuff happening. 
 
Nathaniel’s diagnosis was hard to comprehend because he didn't fit neatly into what I thought Autism was. This was a kid who loved to snuggle, and would drape himself on top of you with a smile a mile wide. This was a kid with a hilarious sense of humor who made jokes about me being bald. This was a person with so much charisma that I watched in real time as people fell under his spell. I joked he could be a cult leader, because there are so many people who feel connected to him and would do ANYTHING on his behalf. People meet Nathaniel and fall in love. I wasn’t counting on that. 
 
Being the parent of a ND child isn’t easy, especially when the world is set up for folks who are neurotypical. It can be isolating and exhausting. ND parents also double as translators, advocates, and as cheerleaders ‒ the greatest publicists you’ll ever meet. But being his dad has expanded my view of the world 100X and that only has made me a better person, a better parent, and even a better coach.
 
I am able to glimpse at the world through his lens, and when I do, it’s easy to understand why we derive strength from diversity and inclusion at all levels. That’s not a talking point, it’s a fact. He sees things the way others don’t, and that’s where great ideas are born.
 
One small tangible example is his creativity.  I often work with clients who bemoan the lack of creativity on their teams, they don’t think “out of the box.” If only they could intern for Nathaniel.
 
In fact, because he thinks expressions are hilarious, I asked Nathaniel what he thought of the concept of thinking “out of the box.” He laughed and asked if I was making a joke and then unprompted told me a better choice would be “out of this world.” He’s probably right.
 
But when I think about what I want for my clients, it’s so much of what Nathaniel already has. A love of learning, a zest for life, a worldview based in joy and sharing laughs with those closest to him. These are beautiful things. And I was totally clueless about all of it before he was born. I’m not anymore.
 
I used to stress about the future. I still do but I also can’t wait to see what happens next. As a coach I’ve been trained to dance in the moment with my clients. But when it comes to Nathaniel, we aren’t just dancing, it’s a full-on pop and lock breakdancing crew with doses of ballet, salsa, and flamenco thrown in for good measure. And we’re just gearing up. The best is yet to come.

FINDING JOY IN AISLE 13

As a coach I often ask my clients where is a place that allows you show up as your best self? For my almost 5 year-old, Nathaniel, it’s the supermarket.
 
Earlier this year earlier this year Nathaniel was diagnosed with Hyperlexia, a learning profile often associated with Autism. Some kids have visions of Bluey in their heads, Nathaniel has percentages and fractions. Sometimes it can seem like he is in his own universe. And in Nathaniel’s universe there is one place that shines above the rest- the supermarket.
 
The other week my mom came to visit. Guess where we ended up. And even though Nathaniel had an ear infection and felt pretty cranky, as we entered through the sliding doors something magical happened.
 
With a bounce in his step and a sparkle in his eyes he led my mom by the hand to the peanut butter machine, showed her the self-check out aisle, weighed a huge pumpkin on a scale all the while talking non-stop. He was so happy.
 
Seeing him in this environment made me think about the power of place. The world might feel overwhelming but the supermarket does not. This comfort unlocks something inside of Nathaniel, and that new space is filled with joy and wonder. Watching him I felt joy and wonder too. 
 
Being your best self and maximizing your performance is what I work with clients to achieve. Everyone has their own version of the supermarket, the place that makes you feel like anything is possible, the only question is what steps do you need to be there?  What choices can you make from this place that you didn’t recognize before?
 
If you have a sense that something needs to change but you're not sure what let’s connect. I can guide you through a process to find out what you really want, and together we can figure out the steps you need to get there. It's never too late to create a vision for your life that is truly fulfilling. You deserve to live a life filled with joy.

And if you are ever in the neighborhood and want to take road trip to the supermarket, I definitely know someone who is down for the adventure.
 
Talk to you soon.

A JERSEY RULE

There used to be days when I woke up with a pit in my stomach as I thought about the day ahead. My job, helping to open homeless shelters in NYC, made me feel like I was being shoved into a woodchopper. I would show up to community meetings around New York City and be torn to pieces by angry mobs. My goal was to survive the day, and I assumed this is what it meant to be a grown up.

Later, after both kids were asleep, I’d share a glass of wine with my wife before passing out, only to wake up in the morning and do it all again. I felt blessed to have a loving family filled with laughter but also felt overwhelmed by work, parenting, adulting, taking care of sick family members, and longed for something more.

For me, salvation came through a sport that I hadn’t played in more than 20 years: tennis. I loved it as a kid, but forgot about it when I lived in NYC as an adult and started a family. I didn’t have the time, courts were hard to book, and it was easy to pretend I just outgrew it.

But then I moved to the suburbs of New Jersey, where public courts were everywhere. Something deep inside me stirred. I made a conscious choice to give it a shot. This included an excursion to Dick’s Sporting Goods to buy a cheap racket and tennis shoes, and a plea to a local FB group for hitting partners. And it worked!

The morning after my first game in years every muscle in my body hurt. But it was so much fun! The joy of being on the court was unparalleled. And in those 60 minutes, it wasn’t about my job, my family, or anything else but getting the ball over the net. My mind would go completely clear. I had the sensation of being locked in - and that concentration felt like relief.

Experiencing the thwack-thwack pleasure that I was so excited for made a huge difference in my outlook. Now that I play regularly, I feel more focused in so many other parts of my life and have formed new friendships in the process. And I can break a sweat without feeling like I’m being punished (no offense running).

As a coach, I’ve seen first-hand that ignoring our passions can have a devastating effect on our well-being. Even in the midst of all the craziness, allowing ourselves to feel joy can lead to a real sense of renewal.

And with this can come the energy for making change. Just the act of going for it can lead to other positive outcomes. You don’t need to win the US Open, just getting on the court is enough. Call that a Jersey Rule.

So, if you’re walking around in survival mode, waiting for a magical moment when that feeling will change, let me tell you…it’s probably not coming. Not because you are flawed, it’s just hard to make change by ourselves.

That’s why working with a coaching is such a valuable tool.

If you are ready to find your joy and make changes in your life, connect with me. And if you want to hit the courts sometime, I’d love to make that happen too.

making through tough times

There’s no enlightenment in today’s newsletter. There’s no nirvana. There’s no floating up on a karmic cloud, feeling weightless, with knowledge that elevates you to a higher spiritual plane. Nope. This is about what to do when the moment sucks and there is no end in sight. How do you coach yourself through those times?
 
Last month, as my business began to resemble something real, everything else in my life was falling apart.  My mother blacked out on the streets of New York City, my father got COVID, both my sons got strep, my youngest son Nathaniel developed a series of tics (maybe related to the strep?), and then I got strep and found myself going into survival mode.
 
So what to do? 
 
My old approach was to disassociate. Rise and grind and pretend things were okay. I would focus on the task at hand and push everything else away. But a long time ago I realized this took a toll on my family and myself. And in the ensuing years, I’ve worked hard to be more present even when times are hard.
 
But during this last rough stretch I reverted back to old ways.
 
I realized this on a Saturday morning. I was sipping a cup of coffee, ruminating relentlessly,  when my 8 year-old son Noah said, “Mom, dad’s being grumpy.” I snapped back to reality. I thought I was just being quiet. I didn’t realize my impact. But I grew up with a moody parent, and didn't want to emulate my past so I knew what I had to do. I took a deep breath and regrouped. 
 
Later that day, I apologized to Noah and made a conscious decision to be more present in the moment. It was hard to do. To sit with unpleasant emotions is uncomfortable. That's why I don't like to do it! 
 
But even when things are hard, there is still joy to be found. So while I was feeling the big emotions, I also made a choice to do things that brought me joy. That included going on a run, listening to my favorite music, watching bad tv with my wife (Bachelor in Paradise I see you) and just being silly with my kids. 
 
Making these choices wasn't easy, but they helped me to be more present. And when I’m more present, I make better decisions and am closer to the kind of person I want to be.
 
And that's what coaching is all about - helping people develop the tools so they can be their best selves. If you are ready to figure out what really matters to you, what makes you feel alive, and develop an action plan on how to accomplish what you really want - then let's talk. I'm here to help and have an 8 year-old sidekick who tells it like it is and a 4 year-old who can handle the accounting.
 
In December, I have a few spots left for individual coaching, where we will work to create the kind of life and perspective you want to have. The work isn’t always easy but it’s rewarding, and it might just change your life. Get at me if you want to learn more. And if you are having a tough moment, just know that you aren't alone.