
Two years ago I had the opportunity to crew on a 48-foot sloop named Carina from Bermuda into Long Island Sound. I was part of a four-man crew that returned the yacht after it won its class in the Newport-Bermuda race. I noticed that Carina won again this year, the race being completed just a few weeks ago. Not only did it win, it did it by a whopping three-hour margin. The photo is from this year’s race, by the way.
While at the helm of this fast sloop, I learned a thing or two about focus–focus on the compass heading, focus on the sail trim, focus on the waves, focus on the following sea. And do it all at the same time. A hard task, but one that experienced ocean sailors do constantly. The result is that instead of sailing by thought, I learned how to sail by feel–the feel of the helm, the feel of the waves and the feel of the boat in relationship to those two forces. I had to quite trying to think all the time. In other words, I had to feel more and think less.
It seems to me that this is the same when it comes to our communication with others. We need to learn how to communicate through feel rather than by thought. The next time you are talking with someone, try this:
1. Listen more than you talk.
2. By attention to how they respond to you.
3. Become the thought you are trying to get across to the person.
5. Try to communicate with more energy and feel, rather than thought and control.
See what happens.

The Sydney Conservatorium of Music drew business and community leaders throughout Sydney to Dean Kim Walker’s Gala. I gave a short address to the group and then settled back to enjoy a wonderful evening of music, education and performances.
I’m a lucky guy. I get to go places ranging from Fairfax, VA to Bloomington, IN, and from Regina, Saskatchewan to Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. Dean Kim Walker, herself a three time Dialogue alum, invited me Down Under to do some strategic planning with her team for the Conservatorium’s 100th anniversary, coming up in 2015. Working with her team of approximately 20 administrators and professors, we prepared a very complete and thoughtful document.

With Dean Kim Walker at the Gala. A marvelous evening all around!
While there, Dean Walker invited me to join the Board of Advisors for the School, which I accepted with great humility.
The Aussies are wonderful to work with. Looks like I’ll be heading back to Sydney in November for a Board meeting!

The April 2010 Dialogue group examining a Saguaro during the early morning desert walk.
One of the unique aspects of the Dialogue in the Desert Workshop is not mentioned in our literature or on our web site and that is this: Spending five days in the desert helps one peel back the layers of their organization, their work and their lives and to see it from 360 degrees. And when we see it from different angles, different perspectives we see things that are there all the time, but go by ignored and unnoticed. For when we slow down we become more aware. By getting away, the desert and the tools–and the safe participant environment–helps us all in the Workshop to examine what is in front of us all along. The problem, I believe, is that most of the time we rush through our work and our lives without examination. Oh, we examine other people’s work and lives, but rarely our own. We are simply too busy to stop and see, to stop and be. Dialogue helps us stop. And when we stop we can think…think more clearly, more strategically. And then act with more confidence. It’s simple really. But most of the time we are too busy chasing after things. All we have to realize is that everything we want we already have. It is within us all the time. That is the gift this Workshop offers: A chance to stop, think, examine and then accept.

My new quarter horse, registered name is Billy’s Smokin Pistol, but we just call him Pistol. And he is certainly that.
Finally! After all these years I’m back in the saddle with my own horse. As a kid we had a string of horses and we use them as part of the Dialogue in the Desert Workshop, but I’ve put off getting one for myself far too long. So when the notices came telling me I will soon be eligible for Medicare, that did it.
Pistol is a golden palomino cow horse. Stands 14.2 hands and has won a fair amount of money in competitive team penning and ranch sorting. He’s dead broke and responsive to the touch. He can side pass and loves to open gates–he’ll practically do it by himself. I put him in the box last night and chased steers out of the chute to see how he’d respond, and he went from 0 to 30 in high gear from the get-go. Next step: roping!
I had all six grandkids on him for Father’s Day. Young Henry said it was the best Father’s Day ever.

He’s a head turner!

The San Francisco skyline as seen from the home of Rae and Norm Leaper, who hosted the Circle of Fellows reception. Their warm hospitality equaled the beauty of the view from their balconey.
As most of you probably know by now, the International Association of Business Communicators (IABC) named me and Pixie Malherbe Emslie as this year’s IABC Fellows. Pixie and I were recognized at the opening general session at the World Conference in San Francisco on June 7. Fellow selection criteria includes contribution to the organizational communication field and profession; career achievement; authorship, speaking and lecturing; contributions to IABC; and other professional recognition such as community activities and other business-related activities. The IABC Fellow Award is the highest honor the association bestows on an individual.
Pixie is from South Africa and was the guiding hand behind starting the first IABC chapter in that country. She is a sheer delight, bright and outgoing, and filled with energy.

Pixie and I never me before this, but you can never tell that by this photo. She is that kind of a person.
I had two minutes allocated for my “acceptance” talk. Although I went off the prepared script somewhat, I thought you might like to see the prepared script that I spoke from, which is included here:
Thank you for this wonderful honor.
This moment reminds me of when two of my six grandkids were in the back seat of our car. We had just gotten them a new game for their DS player and Charlie said, “This is the best day of my life.” His brother, Felix, said, “No, Charlie, this is the second best day—remember when our other grandma bought us 5 DS games?”
So this is one of those best days…
I do not take this honor lightly. I accept it on behalf of all of us in this profession who are trying to bring who we are to what we do…and what we do to who we are…
It seems to me that underneath everything we do, and underneath all the sessions we’ll go to in this conference, that what each of us in this room are really seeking is credibility, affirmation, authenticity and community. Simply put, we want to make a difference and for our work to matter. Like Marilyn Monroe said, “I don’t want to make money. I just want to be wonderful.”
Over the years, IABC has given me credibility, affirmation, and community and to this organization and those who have gone before me I owe much. Past Fellows like Walter Beach, Mike Emanuel, Downs Matthews, Lou Williams, Lynda Stewart, Dick Wilmot, Norm and Rae Leaper, Roger D’Aprix, Connie Eckard and so many more have paid it forward for me and for all of us in this room.
And there are others I owe:
• Dr. Harry Heath—Dean of the School of Journalism & Broadcasting at my school, Oklahoma State University, with whom I had a “Tuesday with Morrie” relationship…
• Bill Evans, Ross Lagattuta and Bob Esposito for giving me opportunity…
• My son and business partner, John, for his wise counsel.
• The 2,000 alums of our Dialogue in the Desert Workshop, and our many clients, for their trust…
• And finally, Barbara’s name should be on this…for 42 years she has given me her indominable spirit. Every thing I have done in business and in life that has been good and lasting has had her mark, her ideas, her impact, her touch on it.
Simply put, without her, I would not be here…I would not be whole…
I’d like to close with a phrase that I start every Dialogue Workshop with for it sums up everything I feel about communication…
‘If I stay here long enough I will learn the art of silence…when I have given up words I will become what I have to say.’
Thank you.
So, again, thank you to all Dialogue alums for giving me your trust over the years and for making this workshop so amazing. Without you, there simply would not be a Dialogue Workshop. I would be wandering around the desert by myself, flip chart and map in hand, trying to have a little dialogue with the coyotes. Lost and drooling…
Before they recognized Pixie and me, they brought all Fellows who were in attendance up on stage. What a nice touch and an impressive sight–all that experience and history. Without the Fellows, IABC would be where it is today. They have each given so much behind the scenes that the average IABC member will never know about. I never thought I would be in such distinguished company. I am humbled and honored and I know that Pixie feels the same.

The three Williams Fellows: Lou, Tudor and myself. Is there anyone else named Williams in IABC who is not a Fellow?

Norm and Rae Leaper, Pixie and myself after the Fellows dinner at LeZinc. Norm and Rae are both Fellows (a husband and wife first!) and are the nicest, most gracious people you’d ever meet. They have contributed greatly to this organizational communication profession we’re all in.

Sheri Rosen introduced me that evening to the general assembly. I’ve known Sheri before the days of electronic communication (!). Thank you, Sheri, for your warm and gracious comments. Now, how can i get you to come to the desert?????

Thank you Connie Eckard for our friendship over these many, many years and for nominating me as a Fellow. Connie and I go back to when he lived in Tulsa and we were both active in the Tulsa chapter and putting on district programs. Where has the time gone? Where has my hair gone???
And so we live a life and do the best we can and hope that our work somehow matters, that it makes a difference, that we make a difference and that what we do is somehow recognized, somehow known in some small way. In the end are we like a rock that has skipped five, eight or twelve times over the surface of a pond, and then with a little splash, sinks to the bottom? What difference do we make?
I struggle with that now that I am getting letters telling me that I will soon be eligible for Medicare and had better get supplemental insurance before it is too late. So, it seems to me that all of us are Fellows, for all of us contribute, each in our own way. We are each part what we do and as such, we are each part of the other.
We get up every morning, planting seeds and producing work that we hope matters. But there is danger in getting so caught up in the work that we lose sight of the environment we are trying to create through the work. And it seems that it is the small things that make the difference in the work: The trust we exhibit, the recognition we give, the respect we extend, the openness we create.
And when we incorporate these qualities into our work we incorporate them into our very being. The result is that what seems simple and ordinary, like a rock skimming over water, is anything but simple and ordinary.
They are extraordinary.