Good morning, Team! It’s Friday!

I was heading out on another business trip after the back side of a long weekend. Quick turn. Unpack, repack, shower, hit the hay sort of thing.

We’re hugging before the Lyft arrives, and Anne starts the checklist.

“Do you have your wallet?”

“Yes.”

“Phones?”

“Yes.”

“Glasses?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have your sweetness?”

“No.”

Chuckle.

“Not my kind of sweetness. Your kind of sweetness.”

Ahhh. Then I suppose the answer is yes.

Each of us shows up differently at different times and for different reasons. For more than fifteen years, I’ve shared in various writings and speeches that we should be gentle, because everyone is fighting a battle of some kind. That includes when we arrive at the office.

Leaders aren’t entitled to empathy. They’re called to give it.

Nobody really cares how much you travel, how much you hurt, or how busy you are. They want to be seen, heard, and cared about.

The confidence you display, the warmth you exude, and the concern you convey determine how your influence is felt. As John Maxwell says, leadership is influence.

You might label your effort to be a better leader something other than sweetness.

You might leave the false impression, based on your facial muscles (like yours truly), that you’re incapable of sweetness.

All that really meant for me was that I had to work harder at it. It only took me decades to figure that out because I was unwilling to accept that people would form impressions based on whether I smiled at them or asked how their day was going.

That wasn’t logical.

Nope. It’s emotional.

It wasn’t enough to care, quietly. I had to let people know how I felt. I had to understand that vulnerability wasn’t weakness.

Leading people effectively required that I find my kind of sweetness.

Maybe that’s patience.

Maybe it’s encouragement.

Maybe it’s simply taking the time to smile and ask someone how they’re doing.

Soft … is hard.

Have a blessed weekend!

Eric