Change Your Frame, Change Your Game

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I’m going to share a story, a true story, that is a bit unsettling. Nonetheless, it illustrated a human tendency we have that often robs us in myriad ways. So on with this terrible, but true recollection.

This happened when I was the HR leader in a large manufacturing complex with over 3,000 people who printed, bound, and shipped books.

On this particular day, a supervisor (we’ll call him Jim) came into my office, clearly annoyed. Staffing all the equipment was critical but challenging – and without people, production either slowed or stopped.

Jim demanded that we immediately fire an employee who had been a no-call/no-show for the past three days (we’ll call this person Joe). After the second day, Jim had tried calling him. There was no answer.

There was absolutely no hesitation in Jim’s mind that Joe had to go. Immediately. And if he ever did show his face in this plant again, Jim was going to read him the riot act.

Of all the offenses that got one fired, no-call, no-show ranked just below stealing, drinking on the job, and harassment. Yet still, I needed more information.

As I probed to learn more about Joe, Jim shared that Joe had been a solid performer for the past twenty years. He was rarely late, missed very few days of work, and had never missed work without notice.

Immediately, I sensed something was amiss. I asked Jim if he would be willing to swing by Joe’s house, knock on the door, and find out exactly what was going on. Being a small, close-knit town, this was not an unusual thing to do.

Jim did just that. He came back into my office two hours later with a much different demeanor.  He was ashen, apologetic, not angry. He was humble, not haughty. His sense of outrage had turned into hurt and humility.

When he went to Joe’s house, there was no answer. Curious, he peeked into the living room window. From there, he could see Joe sprawled on the floor, motionless.

The police were called, and upon their arrival, they easily broke into Joe’s home. Joe was not just unresponsive but cold and in rigor mortis. Clearly, he had been dead for several days.

This incident took my breath away then and continues to do so to this day. It reminds me, over and over and over again, how often my immediate take on a situation is dead wrong. (pun intended).

Sometimes being dead wrong (pun intended) has dire consequences, other times insidious ones, shaping how we see ourselves, others or a situation powerfully yet unconsciously.

Because, as humans, we do these three things:

1. We make up “stories” or versions of our truth using only our viewpoint and with limited and biased data

2. We assume our stories are factual, that we are right

3. We craft stories that put us in the best possible light

I do this. You do this. We all do this.

However, there are some things each of us can do to test ourselves, to deal more in reality than conjecture, to pull our unconscious instincts into the light.

Reframing

A powerful technique I use in coaching is reframing. How we frame things, in our “stories”, shapes what we see and consequently how we react. Our frame creates a border around what we see. Some frames put us dead center, while others use us as background. Other times, we can pull our frame out and make it broader and richer.

Jim framed his initial story with himself as the injured party. He was the one managing a department with one person short. He was the one trying to juggle production demands. He was the injured party, and Joe was the irresponsible and lazy employee who needed to be fired immediately.

Once confronted with different facts, Jim’s frame shifted. It broadened to include Joe as well as himself. To see a bigger picture, a more accurate accounting.

Reframing is a simple process that you don’t need a coach to walk you through. It begins by simply recognizing that there may be more to the picture you’ve created in your version of the truth than you are accounting for. And then being curious about what that might be.

Simply ask questions like these:

• What are three other possible explanations for this situation?

• How might this situation look from the other person’s perspective?

• How much of your story have you validated and how much are you making up?

• What can you do to unearth the other part of the story?

Often, the first story we tell ourselves is the one that paints us as the hero or as the person who is “right,” and the other players as “wrong” or defective in some way. Or we may be the victim and the other person the perpetrator of our woes. Or we were the “smart” one and the other person less so.

Of course, the converse is also true. We can paint ourselves into too small of a frame, reflecting our fears and insecurities instead of our potential and possibilities.

And then there are the times where our frame constrains our actions, because it is the only way we can see.

At other times, our initial stories are based on societal or cultural norms, which may not be true but are often unchallenged. Some examples:

For the person who never questions the belief that women are always emotional, when faced with a female upset about a situation, the immediate story is that she is simply overreacting and being too emotional and irrational. Being willing to reframe this situation would prompt a deeper explanation of what prompted the emotion, rather than immediately dismissing it as another emotional woman.

For the person who holds limiting beliefs about themselves, when faced with a challenge, they may immediately default to a small frame of “I could never…”, or “I’m not good enough to” or “I don’t have the time to…”.  A simple reframe for self-doubt is to simply turn around the doubt from “I could never” into “How might I?” or “What is one small thing I could do to…”

The Speech

Truth be told, each of us is able to spin stories at remarkable speeds, amazing outputs, and with very shaky data.

I think back to a time when I was keynoting. I stood on an elevated stage, mic in hand, looking out over the 100 or so people gathered. I had a strong start. The audience began to engage. I took a breath, feeling that I was going to do just fine.

And then I noticed something. A man, a large man. In a suit, crumpled, but with a white shirt and tie. Head down, seemingly disengaged.

I continued, watching him out of the corner of my eye. Frowns, not smiles. No reaction as I engaged the audience. No hint of a smile with my lame jokes.

And I immediately made up a story – about how he was someone influential (remember the suit) who HATED my presentation, who was totally bored by it.

The story was spun up in an instant, but the aftereffects lasted throughout my presentation. I shifted my attention from the broader audience to this man, trying to win him over. No luck there, which led to my story taking another deadly turn.

The new and super-sized story was that this man did not find my work valuable, and so the entire speech, my presence, and energy must be off. Be no good. For ANYONE!

My confidence plummeted. I began to forget my lines. I felt off kilter and I know it showed. All because I read the reactions of 1% of the audience as negative.

(Reminder: No one said that the stories we spin are rational)

Yet, here’s the punch line. As I gathered up my belongings at the end, this same large, scowl-faced man in a suit came up to me. My stomach lurched. I braced for a barrage of negativity. And then, the totally unexpected happened.

He praised my presentation and content. Found it insightful and helpful. In fact, he was concentrating hard (not scowling in a mean way) to absorb my message.

Just like Jim, I was humbled. Not by the suit man’s praise, but by my own foolishness of allowing this story I crafted (but never tested) to take over my entire presentation and hold me back from being good to possibly being brilliant. All because I made up a story with not a shred of truth about my own inadequacy.

My Challenge to You (and myself too)

This week, I invite you to catch yourself in the act of storytelling. Notice the moment when you decide someone is wrong, difficult, lazy, uncaring, incompetent, or against you. Notice the moment when you tell yourself you're not capable, not ready, not smart enough, or too late.

Then stop. Pull the frame back. Look again.

You may discover that the story isn't true at all. Or that it is only partially true. Or that there is a much richer, more useful story waiting to be told.

Because the frame you choose doesn't just determine what you see.

It determines what becomes possible.

Here is a great question bank to pull from when you are stuck in your own story:

• What are three other possible explanations for what is happening?

• What facts do I actually know, and what parts of my story am I assuming?

• How might the other person describe this same situation?

• What information might completely change my interpretation today?

• What am I not seeing because I am too close to the situation?  What happens if I frame a larger picture?

• Am I casting myself as the hero, victim, or expert in this story? What changes if I don't?

• What would a neutral observer conclude from the same set of facts?

• What assumptions am I making about another person's intentions, motives, or character? How do I know that those are true?

• What evidence would prove my current story wrong?

• If someone I deeply respected were advising me, what questions would they ask before drawing conclusions?

• How might this situation look five years from now?

• What opportunity might be hidden inside this frustration, disappointment, or setback?

• What strengths, resources, or options am I overlooking because of my current frame?

• What is the most generous interpretation of this situation that is still realistic?

• What story might others be telling about this situation?

Perhaps the greatest gift we can give ourselves is not better answers, but better questions.

Questions that challenge our assumptions.

Questions that expand our perspective.

Questions that replace certainty with curiosity.

The world rarely changes because we are right. It changes because we are willing to see more.

So when life feels stuck, painful, unfair, or impossible, try reframing before reacting. You may discover that the door you were pushing against was never locked.

You were simply looking at it through too small a frame.

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