Lessons Learned From ‘Hovey’
That was my first thought this past Wednesday when I saw 3 people exit a RAV-4 in our development. I happened to be in the back with Munchie, Mateena and Dax.
I literally chuckled as the threesome split up and went right to work. The one guy, with satchel across his shoulder, took off to the left. The other man and woman started the other way and their first ‘victim’ was a little old lady that lives across from us.
As Munchie was playing in the dirt, fully occupied, I watched the scene across the stress play out as I was fascinated by some Mind Map and business principles at work.
Yes, I was getting to reinforce my education without going back to school.
The little old lady, a devout Catholic (I remember her from church growing up as a kid), panicked and started yelling something, which froze the man and woman dead in their tracks; and promptly proceeded to head into her house.
Little old lady had seen these creatures before.
She recognized the Hovey’s instantly and so did I! They were Jehovah’s witnesses, the particular breed that feel its necessary to interrupt people on an otherwise beautiful, sunny, fall day.
Now, before I get into my observations, you need to know that if I were still single, my dream life would revolve around being a recluse. I am very, very introverted and very few things set me off like getting stuck in an unexpected social encounter with people I don’t know.
Yup, if it were only me, I’d be living up in the mountains in West Virginia or somewhere similar, leaving the house every few weeks for a grocery run and that’d be about it.
With that in mind, I observed for about 5 minutes and then gathered the three kids to head into our back door, where we were playing. I saw one of the Hovey’s start down our sidewalk just as we were going in; the race was on!
I left Munchie in the basement for a quick second while I sprinted upstairs to shut the front door. Not a second too soon as it rang about 10 seconds later. I played like I wasn’t home, which was probably silly since the man could hear the two large pups that he had just seen outside minutes earlier.
Incredibly awkward and draining social interaction averted…
To each his own, I don’t care if you believe in a 4-headed Cracken as your savior. What I am interested is the principles at play here.
The first one: Why do the Hovey’s come around in the middle of a week day? It’s the least likely time to get the majority of people at home as most are working a 9-5. Is there some kind of weird guilt going on here? The kind like, ‘Lets do it, but not really do it to the best of our abilities, that way we can say we did it.’ Seriously, the only people they are going to ‘trap’ are little old ladies, shift workers and weirdo’s like moi.
Second: Essentially what the Hovey’s do when they do this is they preach, very similar to teaching or coaching. And one of Mind Map’s core principles is that ‘You must be given permission to coach’.
Otherwise the receiving brain will reject the words coming out of your mouth. As you can see from the little old lady’s reaction, the animal brain in us will react when we a preached to unsolicited because a part of our brain and our EGO holds very dear our beliefs, especially when it comes to things like religion, politics and even food (yes, food and diet).
The Hovey’s would ‘do’ much better position themselves as ‘welcome guests’ rather than ‘annoying pests’. (Big business principle here as well).
Lastly: The whole premise of Mind Map is that the brain is a pattern recognition machine; = prediction and response, and then repeat. If we are ambushed, we haven’t been able to ‘predict’ and therefore rather than going into response mode we enter into reaction mode.
An extreme reaction mode example would be ‘road rage’. Reaction puts us into unpredictable outcomes and irrational thought.
If they somehow just announced they would be coming around on such and such a date through some direct mail or something, it would certainly soften the blow.
There are lessons and principles everywhere if we are just open to seeing and experiencing them. Let the ‘real world’ be your classroom. Carry on!