I once served on a committee led by a powerful woman. She had strong views, but what I remember most is that whenever I spoke, she nodded her head vigorously and affirmatively. Over time, I learned that her nodding didn’t mean she necessarily agreed with me. Even so, I always sensed that she was listening closely and carefully considering what I had to say.
Today I make my living in part by speaking to large groups. Instinctively, I find myself scanning the audience for beacons of affirmation — people whose positive body language makes me feel valued and energized. If I happen to alight on someone shaking his head negatively or looking distracted or bored, I feel a lurch in my stomach and a surge of defensiveness.
As I write this column, my two dogs have been lying quietly near my desk. I just conducted a little experiment with them. First, I said a single word – “Yes” – with unbridled enthusiasm. The dogs leapt to their feet, their tails wagging, and raced over to me. Next I said “No,” firmly. Both dogs looked down and slunk away. I felt as bad as they did.
“No” is first and foremost a fear response, most useful in situations of genuine danger. It’s something you say instinctively and protectively to a 3-year-old when he’s about to pull a lamp off a table and onto himself or to a 15-year-old who announces she’s planning to take up cliff jumping.
[For more of this story, written by Tony Schwartz, go to http://www.nytimes.com/2015/04...v=RecEngine&_r=0]
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