The Importance of Visualization - Oct. 2012

I’ve enjoyed listening to Earl Nightengale since I was a little girl.  Recently, I treated myself to an hour of simply thinking about his book, “The Strangest Secret.”  In it, he mentions the importance of setting a goal and visualizing yourself achieving the goal.  As I tried to imagine myself playing Grandjanay’s Aria, Classic Style, on my harp to a sold out audience at Carnegie Hall, a different and dreadful image came uninvited into my fantasy.  As I stared at the apparition, I realized that I had given a client some very bad advice.  Because I had failed to visualize him after he implemented my recommendations, I may have led him into grave error.

My client is a dentist of Scottish descent.  He called to ask about wearing a kilt to work.  As I used to be a professional tartan weaver, he wanted my advice on the choice of tartan.  He also wanted the names of a couple of skilled kilt makers.  I enjoyed talking with him about tartans, kilts, and kilt makers.  It then occurred to me that I’d better remind him to get a sporran to go with his kilt.  For those of you who may not be familiar with Highland dress, the sporran is the equivalent of the Scottish warrior’s briefcase or back pack.  It is a pouch, often made of leather and fur with tassels.   Depending on the ferocity of the wearer, it may have daggers or a dead animal’s head attached.  It hangs in the front and center of the kilt from the Scotsman’s belt on a chain.  Historically, its purpose was to “protect that which needs protecting.”  A kilted man without his sporran is like a football player without a helmet.  It just isn’t done.

Although I had given my client excellent advice on the wearing of Highland attire, I had failed to visualize him wearing a kilt at work.  Imagine that you are patiently sitting in your dentist’s operatory.  You are wearing an uncomfortable paper napkin around your neck.  You are staring at the drills and picks that are about to be used to make holes in your teeth and gums.  You’re also anxious about the price of the visit and radiation exposure from the mandatory x-rays.  There is just enough time for your anxiety to max out before you hear the dentist coming into the room.

You think you know what to expect when you turn to greet your doctor.  A clean, starched white lab coat will cover an equally clean white shirt and tie.  Spit shined shoes will peek out from sharply creased slacks that probably didn’t come from any warehouse.  But today, because the dentist’s lawyer failed to visualize your welcoming experience, you are about to get a disconcerting surprise.

You turn toward the door, already smiling, to say “Hello” to your dentist.  But something is wrong.  He still has the white lab coat and spotless shirt, but the trousers have been replaced with a brightly colored, pleated skirt.  Two boney knees protrude from below the kilt.  Below the knees, “flashers” fly out from the knitted socks like small flags hanging half-mast from poles in front of government offices.  Instead of the dentist’s shining wing- tipped shoes, you see shoes that could be worn by a male dancer of some sort.  But, to be honest, the object that has seriously captured your attention is the furry sporran hanging from the dentist’s belt. 

If you’re like me, you may have entered the dentist’s office with an anxiety level of 7 on a scale of one to ten.  But now, facing a Highland warrior in a lab coat wearing a dead animal head on his sporran, your anxiety level has jumped a few hundred points.  To make matters worse, being a polite person, you remember the instructions your mother gave you when you were a child captivated by the sight of an unusual person.  You must “Stop staring!”

Imagining the impact of my client at work in full Highland regalia, I remembered the last “casual Friday” we ever had at my office.  I wore my favorite tee shirt.  It warns, “Mess with Me and You Mess with the Whole Trailer Park.”  I was working on a lease agreement when my secretary announced that there was a potential client who wanted to see me.  Tragically, the lady’s son had been killed when an 18 wheeler crashed head-on into his car on Interstate 40.  She needed a lawyer.  Although she did not have an appointment, I wanted to see her.

Jeannie showed the lady into our conference room.  I stood up to introduce myself, but after taking one look at my tee shirt and scruffy jeans, she shook her head and said she needed to think about hiring a lawyer.  I watched as the biggest case of the year walked hurriedly out of the office.  That “casual Friday” cost me several hundred thousand dollars. 

So, I agree with Mr. Nightengale.  Visualization is a key step to success.  I need to call my client about that kilt.  That fur covered sporran is probably an OSHA violation.