Helping Hands

Posted on April 3, 2009 by Blake Leath

About a week ago, I learned of an Organizational Development position within a local, premier hospital.  I was asked by a colleague if I knew anyone who might be interested in the slot.

I sent an email to 80 like-minded associates, colleagues, friends, professionals, contractors, the works.  I kept track of the respondents for several days because they were so many.  I nearly had to build a spreadsheet.  Within a week, 29 people had replied.  Some ten days later, I have lost count – but perhaps 37 to 40 OD professionals have responded to my first feeble feeler.  (I don't know yet if any of my 'referred' will get the job, but I do hope I've been more helpful than disruptive in the sourcing phase.)

And talk about 6° of Separation – it amazes me how ‘connected’ our world is.

And yes, there is a lot of unemployment hurt in the world right now, but that is not the point of today’s blog, either.

Years ago, I earnestly thanked my best CEO for all he had done for me, meant to me, and provided to me.  “Keep your thanks, Blake.  All I did was give you a shot.  After that, it was all you.”

(It wasn’t, of course.  It never is, though I appreciated his selflessness and graciousness in equal measure.) 

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The wall of water that burst as a result of my innocuous email got me reflecting on two groups of people in my career:  the Helping Hands and the Helpless Hands.

The Helping Hands are those who have truly helped me along my journey.  Who saw me in need at various points in my career and said, “Here, let me help you.  Let me show you how this works.  What more can I do for you?”  And they did it.  They broke down doors, wrote letters, scheduled meetings, sent emails and notes, made phone calls, busted barriers of all sorts and sizes.  They often went out of their way, exerted time and energy, risked their reputation(s) on my trivial pursuits, and worked tirelessly and authentically to really move the needle in my life.

The Helpless Hands did the opposite: nothing.  Or worse, they served as obstructionists.

In my career (beyond the equally irreplaceable and anonymous friends and colleagues), I have also periodically interacted with a handful of well-known individuals (some more well-known than others, sure).  People like Tom Peters, Stephen Covey, Peter Block, Tony Jeary, Jeffrey Gitomer, Steve Buchholz, and others who shall remain nameless.

I have been frequently amazed at the altruistic contrasts between people (several of whom had significant access to resources with which to help). 

When I was writing my second book, I reached out to a number of such folks to see what introductions or support each could provide for a publishing deal.

While some individuals responded with encouraging comments like, “Who do you want me to call?  Name it and I’ll make it happen,” others (‘God Makers & Career Destroyers’ as one colleague describes them) nary lifted a finger to help.  “Wait your turn in line,” they seemed to say, with a scintilla of territorialism or zero-sum-thinking wafting through the air. 

As we would all attest, some things in life come easy, most come hard, and others simply never come.  They were never meant to be, perhaps.  They’re not in the proverbial cards.

I get that.  I come to terms with that month by month and year by year.  We all do.

But from my own, exceedingly miniscule and modest chair, I do whatever I can to help others; to move the needle for them.  To give them the shots or opportunities that I have been given literally hundreds of times over the years by so many generous advocates. 

Rather than come to the end of my days and have others think at my funeral, “Blake did nothing for no one,” I hope they might be able to say, “He didn’t have much to give, but he gave it all to anyone who asked.” 

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You’ll live your life according to whatever software you choose.  That’s our individual, inalienable, God-given prerogative.  Free Will, Choice, and all that.

But I do hope that as you are blessed, you will live humbly in your own skin, appreciating the fragile and ephemeral nature of whatever we periodically, delusionally perceive we ‘control.’ 

One serious health scare, loss of job, or loss of a loved one serves to remind us we are but dust in the wind.

But to someone, somewhere, someday, we may have the great privilege to be a fortune. 

We may find ourselves holding the Key they have been searching fruitlessly for lo these many years.

Should you ever find yourself blessed enough to stand at such a door with another human being, I do hope you’ll consider opening it for them.