I’m a big fan of disagreement.

Conflicting ideas, dissenting viewpoints, differing opinions are healthy and a really good thing. They stretch our minds, broaden our perspectives, help us understand people and their motivations just a little bit more. They make us all better in the long run, right? Most people would agree with that, and I’m sure all of you would SAY that, even if you acknowledge that disagreement can be uncomfortable, sometimes scary, and once in a while it can devolve into something ugly.

The trouble is in the distinction between disagreement, and being disagreeable.

We ferociously defend our right – and our now rapid ability – to express our viewpoints and to differ with others on theirs. But we often miss the subtle distinction of delivering that disagreement with calm, respect, and some basic manners.

And in this quick-to-lynch environment, if someone is put off by our delivery or the way we treat them in the midst of the discussion and they remove their attention (via unfollowing, or walking away from the conversation), we quickly point fingers to accuse them of not tolerating differing opinions or wanting feedback, rather than considering that it might be our approach that’s the trouble. As humans, we indeed have a right to express ourselves however we like. But likewise, we also have the right to decide where we direct our attention, and when we remove it.

I’ve personally unfollowed or stopped getting into discussions with individuals not because I don’t respect their right to disagree, even passionately, nor even because I can’t consider that they might be right. I walk away because the tone, tenor, and approach of the conversation often leads to negativity, judgment, resentment, or at worst, personal barbs.

For some, every statement seems to be an invitation to do battle under the guise of playing “Devil’s advocate”, and that grows tiresome after it becomes habitual instead of thoughtful. (Someone recently wrote a great post about the downside of Devil’s Advocacy, but I’ll be darned if I can find it. Drop a link in the comments if you have it). It’s as if dissention is a badge of honor, that agreeing with someone means you’re nothing more than a lemming, and that being argumentative is the only way to prove that you have something valuable to say because you aren’t following the herd.

Walking away from disagreement that’s fruitless doesn’t mean we don’t respect the importance and the reality of diversity of thought. It’s a choice to entertain it in a less combative environment.

My good friend and intellectual sparring partner Matt Ridings is adept at disagreeing with things without being disagreeable, and he’s taught me plenty. So is my co-author Tamsen McMahon (and I deeply admire the temperance with which she greets the world at large). Julien Smith is brilliant at challenging my assumptions and perceptions while never making me feel attacked, inferior, or condescended. All of those make for great discussion, for self reflection, for great intellectual food for thought.

There is a difference, my friends, between disagreeing, and being disagreeable. Have you felt this? Do you see the difference? And how can we all be more conscious of which we’re doing?

image credit: Mintball

“But were you this successful when you were 27?”

I got that question in a DM a couple of weeks ago from a young professional, clearly trying to see if she’s “on track” in her career. It’s an all-too-common thing. We use the obvious yardstick that compares us to everyone else, based on the criteria that we can see: age, title, socio-economic status, personal relationship success.

The trouble is that everyone’s story is utterly unique. How I “got” where i am is totally different than someone else. My successes, failures, aspirations, and goals aren’t likely to reflect yours. Same for you, right? Your circumstances, choices, opportunities, priorities, obstacles and limitations? All different than the person next to you.

The only yardstick that truly matters is the one that measures you against yourself. Where you are now versus where you want to be, and what you’re doing to get yourself there.

It’s okay to look to others for a glint of inspiration, for ideas, for encouragement. But we don’t typically look to others and happily see how well we’re faring or how we’ve been inspired. We don’t use it as a positive motivator, not at all.

Rather, we look to those who reflect what we want to be, and drag ourselves into a shame spiral, lamenting all of the things we didn’t do, or the opportunities we didn’t have, looking to others as proof that we haven’t achieved what we want. We seek approval, reassurance that we’re on the right track, from people who don’t even walk in our shoes. And yet what we often see is where we’ve failed, where we’ve fallen short, what others have done that we have not.

We’re abusing ourselves with our need to be accepted, recognized, celebrated. We’re expecting our external circumstances and the patterns of others to define the people that we are, or the ones we must become. Instead, we need to run our own races, knowing that the only finish line that matters is the one we’ve set for ourselves.

My mom is a career executive assistant, and an amazing one. She’s utterly indispensable to the people she works for and with. Could she have compared herself to others in terms of rank, title, or age based on a generic notion of corporate rank = success? Sure. But that’s not her goal. That’s not what SHE wants, so the measurements according to those standards simply don’t apply to her.

This week, Inc. magazine came out with their list of the 30 “coolest entrepreneurs” under 30 And it’s exciting to see young professionals – some of whom I know and respect – recognized for doing progressive, interesting work.

At the same time, I can hear the quiet thoughts of many, many under-30 professionals self flagellating because they’re not in Inc. magazine this year, nor perhaps are they likely to be next year. I can hear the 30-, 40- and 50- somethings wondering what they did wrong in their careers that they didn’t get some kind of award or magazine article, wondering if they path that they’ve chosen is somehow less worthy because mainstream accolades aren’t likely to come.

Just because you’re in business, you don’t have to aspire to be in top management. Just because you’re a writer doesn’t mean you have to become a best-selling novelist. Just because you’re a runner doesn’t mean you need to win the Boston Marathon.

Your goals and aspirations are yours, and the path you take to get there will likely be as unique as you are. Your standards for excellence, for satisfaction, for achievement need not fit the ones you see around you. Ultimately, only you can determine whether you’re making progress toward where you’d like to be.

And if you’re looking sideways all the time, you’re very likely to miss the opportunities, paths, and people that are right in front of you.

image credit: mikebaird

I have a confession to make.

I was a social media novice once. I was even a bit of a purist.

A few years ago, I was really just trying to understand all of this. I caught hold of some voices that I thought had a solid understanding, and I listened. Sometimes, I bought what they were saying simply because I didn’t know any different, or because they had the air of authority when I was still trying to find my footing.

Sometimes I tucked myself in with a group because I felt safer amongst like minds when I wasn’t sure enough of my own convictions. I fussed about folks “doing it wrong”, even pulled the indie-band-goes-mainstream thing, discounting the voices of people who were well known simply because it wasn’t cool to listen once they’d built a following.

So much of that has changed. Time, experience, and a few hard lessons helped (and I’m sure more of those are yet to come). The difference between where I was then and where I am now is a combination of a few things.

1. The willingness to believe that I might just be missing something.
2. The openness to hear voices and ideas that weren’t my own.
3. The strength to believe in my own mind and heart.
4. The confidence to walk away from ideas and people that were consistently negative.
5. The conviction that it was perfectly okay to change my mind.

Surrounding yourself with learning and ideas is healthy. Scary, sometimes, but healthy. And it’s okay to look at the conventional wisdom (or even the unconventional), decide that it doesn’t suit you, and use it as a foundation to forge something new.

We’re all recovering somethings.

We’ve all been somewhere where we had it wrong, or were a bit misguided, simply didn’t have all the information, or needed an attitude adjustment. And that, my friends, is perfectly okay. I imagine that two years from now, we’ll all be able to say this all over again from a different vantage point. We’ll have changed our mind several times over, challenged our own assumptions, and had others point out where we might need to rethink or consider a different perspective.

The difference between a career jackass and an effective agent of change is that the latter learned humility, temperance, and grace along side their persistence.

As a whole, we need to do a better job of rewarding the journey and the evolution of people and their ideas instead of simply shooting them where they stand. Tolerance and curiosity can be the enemies of defensiveness, of blind conviction, of misdirected anger. Presuming that criticism is designed to point out potential flaws, weaknesses, or gaps in thinking, we owe it to one another (and ourselves) to buttress our critiques with alternatives and ideas in the interest of improvement and growth.

Humans have an amazing capacity to adapt to their environment, to evolve their thinking, to refine their ideas and forge new paths. But we need to give that change some space to breathe. If no one had given me a chance to learn, I might have given up, or simply stood in the only ground I knew, piling up the walls around me to protect what was familiar and comfortable. But the wisdom, patience, and thoughtful discussion from friends and colleagues gave me space and courage to stretch my mind, and hopefully help others do the same.

We’re all recovering somethings. Look around you, and before you tear something down, consider how you might use those same bricks to help build something new.

image credit: DaveBleasdale