Humbling and Gratifying

Humbling and Gratifying

It has been almost one year since I published Traveling the Consulting Road: Career Wisdom for New Consultants, Candidates, and Their Mentors. This year has been gratifying and humbling.

It has been gratifying because a significant number of people have bought the book. Amazon data shows that my book sold more copies than 90% of self-published books. It also sold slightly more than the average number of copies for all self-published books.

This is humbling. Clearly this distribution is very skewed with a very long tail. Many books do not break double digits; a significant number are under 100 copies. When you look at non-fiction self-published books I do even better, but that just means the distribution is even more skewed.

So I am very grateful for all the people who purchased my book this year and for those who left a rating and/or a review. Some have written that the book was helpful. Gratifying.

I always knew this was a niche book. One of my beta readers described the niche character of the book this way:

Traveling the Consulting Road is full of fun stories and useful tools. I can’t imagine it will sell much. It is a book for young consultants, who won’t listen, and old consultants who don’t read.”

Ouch. As I said, humbling.

Remembering this near the one year anniversary of the book’s publication, I got to thinking. I found that statement funny because there is some truth there. As a young consultant, heck as a young person, I didn’t listen well. If you ask some people who love me, they will tell you that affliction hasn’t abated.

There are many jokes about consultant arrogance:

“Sure he’s smart. Just ask him, he will tell you how smart he is.”

“A consultant is a person with an opinion on absolutely everything, without the benefit of experience in anything.”

“Consider if you will, a person educated to the point of unbearable ego, such that they think that people should pay them for their advice. Now imagine trying to tell that person anything, an exercise in utter futility.”

But, I wrote this book to share what I learned, over thirty-seven years. I wrote what I learned about getting a job and being successful inside a firm, about solving different kinds of problems that clients call consultants for, about how I learned to become an independent consultant, start a firm, etc. I wrote down all the mistakes I made as a young consultant with the hope that other consultants might learn from my mistakes.

Yeah, right. Would I have bought this book at thirty? Maybe, but probably not. Do I expect undergraduate juniors or first year MBAs looking for an internship to go on Amazon looking for this book? Maybe, but probably not.

But wait, I also wrote this book for mid-career consultants and senior consultants, mentoring their younger colleagues. When I was in those roles inside a firm, I was a trifle busy. I did make time to keep up with the business press. I subscribed to The Harvard Business Review, Fortune, The Wall Street Journal, Forbes, Inc, Fast Company, but truthfully, I mostly scanned the Table of Contents to see if there was an article about my current clients, their competitors, or a particular issue that they were facing. I did read some business books, but mostly best sellers by academicians or CEOs. So while I might deny membership in the “older consultants who don’t read,” maybe I was more so than I’d care to admit.

When I worked for myself, I was better about reading because I had more control of my schedule, and the autonomy I had, allowed me to follow my interests. Also, the life of an independent consultant is often dominated by meetings with prospective clients, and reading makes for more interesting conversation. Did that make me “well-read and au courant?” I wouldn’t exactly say that.

Many independent consultants write a book to give themselves credibility. I didn’t do that, probably should have, but if I had it wouldn’t have been this book. It would have been a book describing a particular methodology, in which I wanted more work, the “one pound business card.” No, I wrote a book of consulting career advice, hoping the audience would be less arrogant or overly busy than I was.

So I wrote Traveling the Consulting Road for the young or old consultant I wish I was. That realization is humbling.

It is, however very gratifying that there are quite a few of those people out there. Thank you young consultants who listen and old consultants who read. You restore an ancient consultant’s faith in humanity.

Recently, another market emerged, which had not occurred to me before, retired consultants buying for their children and grandchildren.

I received a note from one retired colleague, who bought the book for his grandson who had just become president of his university consulting club, and another consulting partner considering retirement, who bought the book for her daughter who was in her first year at another firm.

Whooda thunk it? I have mailed to university and business school consulting clubs and that did produce some sales, but the grandparent market never occurred to me. And the retiring partner?  She said, “I hate to admit that my daughter does not seek me out for career advice. Perhaps she will listen to you.”

So parents and grandparents, if you’re still looking for gift ideas . . . (I’m not too humble to ask).

And thank you to all who have bought, read, and/or reviewed Traveling the Consulting Road: Career Wisdom for New Consultants, Candidates, and Their Mentors.

I am very grateful.

Come to think about it. I have written before about humility and gratitude being tickets for admission to becoming a good consultant.

May 2025 be as humbling and gratifying for us all.

 

For those interested in the book

Leadership Dysfunction 2.0

Leadership Dysfunction 2.0

“People say I should have known. Maybe. There was that thing at the holiday party, but he was really drunk. The girl was drunk too, by the way. And anyway everybody agreed to drop it and she got another job soon after, so everything worked out.

“He was such a sick programmer, I mean, really elegant code, everybody said so. And the dude was a machine. He totally saved the Techniche voice chat bot project, – made the delivery in three days. People said he was mainlining Red Bull, ‘n’ the client said the bot was like talking to a real person. That Indian accent thing was complete magic, ‘Please to hold the line, while I trensfer you to the You – knighted States. – Halo sar, May I please introduce you to Todd in Topeka who will halp you now. . . . – Haie, Ahm Todd, How kin ah hep you today, sir?’ Still cracks me up.

“I mean, I didn’t know him, really. In the break room once I asked him, ‘Dwayne, dude, why does everybody call you ‘BH,’ and he rolled up his sleeve and showed me the biohazard tattoo and said ‘Afghanistan Recon.’ I thought he was too young to be a vet. Then Howie told me, ‘No dude, that’s his Call of Duty handle.’ Maybe that should have been a clue, but we all play. Dint think anything of it.

“I don’t really get the ‘why,’ if you know what I mean. I mean, sure, HR Karen’s all hands email was really targeted to him  ‘. . . so as you RTW you should dress appropriately and leave the camo and tac gear at home.’  And yeah, –  his clothes did leave a little to be desired and he didn’t really need to bring a fourteen inch survival Bowie to work. Maybe she should have just spoken to him or, at least, realized that ‘all hands’ goes to the board, including his dad.

“His dad was so helpful with the Sand Hill guys for the mezz and IPO. I wish Karen had thought about that, . . . wait, . . . ‘waddya mean that’s not her name? What? HR Karen is Denise? No.  And . . . – oh yeah, was,- – a single Mom with two kids. . .who’ll take. . .? Her mother? Jeezus! I mean, she did send that email the week before complaining about Dwayne. I mean, I had to think who she meant, I mean, everybody called him BH, . . . so he broke some stuff, . . . and what does ‘going postal’ even mean?

“This is just awful. It’s gonna mess people up for months. Maybe we should relax the RTW, ‘cept we take such a hit on productivity with work from home. You’d think the game room and snacks would make people want to come back. We got a big deadline on Goomee2 in ten days. I dunno is it better to be with other people if they’re as shocked as you or better to bury yourself in, . . . right, poor choice of words, . . . better to lose yourself in work at home?

“Y’know what I don’t get is the CSRs and marketing girls, I mean, sure, most of ‘em don‘t get tech, but they’re nice enough and sweet lookin’ -Jeezus what a mess. So much blood. Glass everywhere. Hadda replace all the carpet, and the glass, and half of the cubicles. Insurance paid for most, – thanks for filing those claims. We lost five days cleaning up the center – thank God we had Bangladesh as back up. Stock took a hit, but Charlie was right, – it’s coming back.

“Y’know what burns my ass? It’s a tragedy, I get that. It’s awful, but the media just won’t let it go. I mean, it’s been a month, ‘n’ it coulda been a lot worse if ole Juan hadn’ tackled him, . . . did his wife get the flowers? . . .  yeah, just wish that last spray hadn’ gotten ‘em both, I mean I’d just like to ask him, . . . “Why? – I mean BH, . . . – not Juan.

“That’s the thing about mental health. I mean, it’s ‘mental,’ right? Like inside your head, – invisible. But the press will not let it go ‘n’ now it’s the politicians. . . State. . .’n’ Feds. . .

Guns, sure, it’s always the guns. Too bad we have that big ‘No Firearms’ sign on the front door, if HR Karen, . . . ah right, . . . Denise, If Denise had been packin’ this whole thing woulda been a lot less traumatic.

People say I should have known. How’re ya gonna know what goes on inside someone’s head. Somebody has a bad day and yells at one of the girls, or someone has a fight with his wife and throws a stapler, breaks some coffee mugs, and dents a partition, is that such a big deal?  Yeah, maybe, . . . well there’s risk in everything, . . . life is a risk, . . . I could walk out the door today ‘n’ get run over by a beer truck, wouldn’t that be a cryin’ shame, . . . risk.

“Still I wish I knew. . . Why?. . .

“He was such a great coder. . .

“So No, Carol, I don’t want to talk to the Senator. ‘N’ no more reporters, OK? Say ‘we’re cooperating fully with the investigation, ‘n’  I’m unavailable for comment.’

“Oh, ‘n’ Carol, wouldya be a love ‘n’ run to Star, ‘n’ get me another Venti Carmel Macchiato with triple shot Red Eye, yeah with whipped ‘n’ four packets of the natural sugar, y’know the ones in the brown packets.

“That’s great, Babycakes. I’ll be in the game room. Gotta Foosball rematch with Howie.”

 

Avoiding Leadership Dysfunction

 

The Grey One’s Gift

The Grey One’s Gift

The young one had a map of sorts, mostly a list of turns drawn on birchbark – arrow left at the big oak, right after the log bridge, and so on. The path was long for one so young, winding through a deep hardwood forest, crossing a rushing stream on a fallen log, then climbing through fir-filtered sunbeams almost to the tree line.

Finally a small clearing opened to the sky, where one could see up to the first ridge of the mountains and down to the village below. Across the clearing, nestled into the hillside was a cabin, so covered with lichens and mosses it seemed a part of the wood. Before it sat the Grey One, carving a stag from a small piece of wood. The horns of the animal were still blocky as was some of the body, but a near perfect hoof was raised as if the buck would prance off at any moment.

“I am sorry to disturb you, Grey One,” the young one said. “Wind sent me up this path to talk with you.”

“Ah, in trouble with the Elders?”

“No. Well, at least I don’t think so. The village is busy laying up grain and roots for winter, Maybe I was in the way. I ask a lot of questions. Wind just said “Go, it is your time.”

“I see. And what have you been asking about?”

“Oh, everything really. About the stars, and the animals, and where babies come from? Why some things grow and why other things die?”

The Grey One chuckled. “Yes, I see why they sent you. Did you have trouble finding me?”

“No. Wind gave me this drawing of the way.”

“Hold onto that. Come sit by me on the ground and lean your back against this tree. Let us see if we can answer some of those questions.”

The Grey One listened patiently. It seemed to the young one there were more questions asked than answered.

“And what do you think, young one?”

Towards the afternoon, the Grey One served warm soup retrieved from the cabin. After they ate, the Grey One said “I have a small gift for you, something you must practice. Sit with me upon the ground again.”

“Now close your eyes. Breathe softly, in through your nose, and out through your nose.”

After ten breaths breathing together, the Grey One said, “this is the Earth Breath. Through this breath you feel the Earth. Keep breathing as you listen to my voice.

“Breathe in through your nose, and out through your nose. Feel the ground beneath you, each grain of soil, each wet leaf and pebble. You are a part of the ground. As you feel your Connection to the Earth, think also of your Core. Become stronger of body and open of mind.”  Be humble and grateful of spirit. The earth will guide you as you grow and improve your Core.”

Several silent moments passed. Then Grey One gave the young one an apple. “For your journey back. Use the bark drawing, backwards this time. Practice the gift of breath until we meet again.”

Seasons passed. The young one grew, and met the Grey One now and again in the wood near the village. The Grey One always asked “Do you practice the Earth Breath?”

“Yes Grey One.” This young one was diligent, grounding and growing.

Winters later, Wind said, “It is time to visit the Grey One.” The young one still had the birchbark and made the journey.

The Grey One asked. “What gives you joy? Do you sing? Or work with your hands?”

The Grey One listened, then shared a new practice.

“Practice this gift after the Earth Breath, still protect your Core, the health and fitness of your body, mind and spirit, and grow your connection to the Earth.

This is the Fire Breath –  in through the mouth, and out through the nose. The Fire Breath is for your passions, your gifts, talents, your Capability.  Nurture and grow your Capability the way we blow upon the saved coals from yesterday’s hearth to cook today’s meal.”

The young one committed to practice both Earth Breath and Fire Breath building Connection, Core, and Capability.

Seven season circles swirled past.

When the young one next readied for the climb up the path,  Wind said, “Stop by the stream for a few moments and observe; the Grey One will ask you what you see.”

And the Grey One did ask.

“The water moves swiftly in some places; it eddies and pools in others. There is no holding it back. It fills in the spaces among the rocks, moves around them, or over them, it is always there and always moving.”

“Well observed, young one. Now Water Breath, in through the nose, and out through the mouth, can be added. With the Water Breath you connect with others the way the water adapts to the shapes around it. The stream rushes to a river, which glides along the loam banks to the sea, where the tides first hug and then push back from the shore.

Water is the essence of change and the Water Breath shows us how to adapt. Water connects to rocks and the shore, but is always water. So too, your Core connects and adapts to others, and may change with Love, but remains – you. The Water Breath is the first practice where breath leaves your mouth. Take care with your speech.”

“As a young one,” the Grey One said, “I was quick of mind and word, able to see solutions that eluded others. I spoke my mind, but was at times poorly received. I saw in a glass that I have two eyes and two ears, but one mouth. I learned, what is help is not mine to define. Now I watch and listen, but speak less.

Many winters travelled into memory.

Wind was now gray too. A kind face, formed in deep lines traced from years of smiles, spoke to the young one, now a new parent. “The Grey One feels winter’s breath and cannot make the journey to the village. Go now before snow closes the path.

And so this new parent, who practiced Earth, Fire, and Water Breaths, made the journey with no need for the birchbark map.

“I have one more practice to share, the Air Breath, in through the mouth, out through the mouth. It is a breath we all know from being winded; “out of breath” we say. The Air Breath is everything that unites us as people, as animals, and even vegetation, for do not the very trees breathe life into us. So the Air Breath is our beginning and our end. I have taught you this pattern.

Earth breath first, the Connection between your Core and the earth. Fire Breath,  second, burn bright, as you blow on the coals of your gifts and passions. Water Breath third, your Connection through Love to others, never losing yourself. Water reminds us that Change is the primal law of all life. The first three breaths teach you to grow and build upon Core, Connections, and Capability.”

Now the Air Breath, is the symbol of your connection to all life, and bids you share your Contribution. Teach your capability to your family and friends, and with love to the stranger.”

“Breathe in, inspire. Breathe together, conspire with love. Breathe out, expire. You have naught to leave here but your gift to the world, your Contribution.”

A light snow began to fall. The former young one walked slowly back to a new family gathered around the hearth, and was grateful for the Grey One’s Gift.

 

 

Picture above is “River Dave” Lidstone near his woods cabin in Canterbury, NH in 2021  Original photo by Jodie Gedeon via AP

The Grateful Consultant

The Grateful Consultant

It is almost Thanksgiving.

At our house we all sit around the turkey, for those who partake, and four-cheese mac-n-cheese for those who don’t, and say one thing we are each genuinely grateful for. Saying just one thing often precludes career stuff, I mean it doesn’t really stand up to health, and the love of family and friends gathered together,

But I am grateful for my thirty-seven year career in consulting, my clients, my colleagues and for interesting work, and enough remuneration that I was able to retire.

I actually think that gratitude is a required value for a good consultant. If you are genuinely grateful for your job, for the opportunity to help clients and their companies change, for the relationships you build and the collaborations with clients and colleagues, wouldn’t that make you a better consultant?

When I worked for myself, and received a check, I called, or wrote my client and said “Thank You.” Sometimes I sent hand written “”Thank You” notes. Thanking people for their business always seemed to pleasantly surprise people. When I called, I said thanks, and people often asked what I really wanted. “Just to say Thank You.”  “Really?” “Really.”

Did you ever thank your boss or your colleagues? I wish I’d done more of that. I got wonderful opportunities and enjoyed working with mostly smart nice people.

I told clients I pitched, thank you for the opportunity, and I may have said the same when I was interviewing, but I don’t think I said  ‘thank you’ enough after I was hired.

Thank You.

I’m pretty sure I’ve told George Litwin I appreciate the way he mentored me and for some of the most exciting projects of my career. Thank you again, George. Did I thank Ellen Hart for hiring me at Gemini Consulting? Not sure. Thank You, Ellen. Did I than Jon Katzenbach, Marc Feigen and Niko Canner when I was hired at Katzenbach Partners or at any time before I quit four years later and left the same day? Thank you, Jon, Marc, and Niko.

Did I thank my partner Keith Morton at Morton-Culler and Company or my Results-Alliance partner the late Ric Taylor? I think I did, maybe not enough. Thank You Keith and Ric.

Thank you to Jere, John, Roopa, and Brigitte, and any and all who helped me and especially to those that I behaved in a less than grateful way.

I was probably better at thanking clients than I was at thanking bosses and colleagues. How very me.

“Hey, wait a minute,” you say. “What about self-confidence? Isn’t that the core of consulting? Shouldn’t  bosses, clients, and colleagues be grateful to work with me?”

You make an interesting point, person powering up. You are smart and nice and a little insecure so you work really hard. (This is the hiring spec for most consulting firms.) But are you sure that you aren’t covering your insecurity with confidence? Consultants sometimes do that so well that they come off as arrogant. Of course, there are also consultants that have been told for their whole lives how smart they are; these consultants come to believe their own press and their insecurities become buried so deeply below projected confidence that no one, not even them, know their insecurities actually exist. (Guilty.)

Don’t be that guy? (Most of these consultants are men, but perhaps gender-jerk correlation is not causation.)

Gratitude, though? Is that really necessary? Yes.

Let’s say you work in a firm with two mid-career consultants. One thanks the analysts and production people who stay up all night so the consultant has the deck for the client at 9:00 a.m. The other says “That’s the job. I did it. They’ll do it if they want to stay with the firm.” Who gets their work prioritized in a crunch? Who gets analysts to request to be staffed on their project and who gets those who are “available,” no matter how often the project manager complains to staffing “availability is NOT a skillset.”

Gratitude is a leadership trait and the definition of a leader is a person others want to follow.

And you have to be grateful even when you get bad news, “We need more time,” “The data show that your hypothesis isn’t true,” or “I made a mistake.” How a leader (grateful consultant) reacts to bad news, influences whether people tell you the truth, or are willing to take the calculated risks you ask of them.

Gratitude and humility are correlated, maybe even causally. The core of humility is respect for others. It is the willingness to admit that someone might have a better idea than you, or work at least as hard, or see a way to proceed that you might be blind to. If you respect others to that degree, wouldn’t you be grateful that they are on your team?

Some, who have met too many ungrateful, unhumble consultants will guffaw now, or at least, not believe this thesis. If I thought my apologizing for my own misdeeds and those of the miscreants of my former profession would help, I’d say “I’m sorry.” I am sorry.

My current contribution is to encourage others to be humble, ask more questions before you present an answer, and respect not just your client, but all junior members of the client system. Respect your colleagues even those much below your level. And be grateful these people give you the opportunity to help make positive change.

 

 

At this Thanksgiving time, I am grateful for grateful consultants, for all my former clients, consulting colleagues and bosses, for subscribers to Wisdom from Unusual Places, and for those who helped me with, bought, read and/or reviewed my book, Traveling the Consulting Road: Career Wisdom for New Consultants, Candidates, and Their Mentors.”

Thank You!

The Culler Curse

The Culler Curse

Disaster!

Off and on all day yesterday, I puzzled over what to write this week. Some weeks the words flow like a fast stream onto the screen.

Then there are those other times, when Billie says, “You know, none of your subscribers will show up at the door if you miss a week.”

RETIRED? Isn’t that how you spell it? Why have I turned my avocation into a job with DEADLINES?

So yesterday was one of those days where I struggled with not being able to decide what to write and being anxious about it, and rereading everything I’ve posted in the last three years so as not to duplicate.

Then, OMG, It’s 5:30! I’m cooking tonight, and I can’t remember how to cook the shredded chicken with gravy. I’m late, and I haven’t defrosted the chicken, and now Pip, old black lab with diabetes and a UTI, needs to go out.

Now that’s done, where’s the recipe, oh yeah, tucked into the front cover of Lynne’s cookbook. I reached for the shelf in the cabinet to the right of the stove. . . .

Brrrraaaangcrraceenkrashareenkingrakingingingtinkletinkle! An explosion. Glass everywhere, everywhere, glass shards, slivers, and splinters all over the counter, and the floor, and the table across the room.

“What was that?!”    

“Broke the spare coffee pot . . . no wait, both, coffee pots.”

We store the spare Melita pour-through pot next to the cookbooks and I had evidently pulled it airborne when I snatched the cookbook and it had tumbled onto the part-full coffeepot below, breaking off the spout and rim.

“I know just what you did. Culler Curse!” said Billie as she went to order new Melita pots and I went for the broom, dustpan, and vacuum cleaner.

Thanksgiving

Things to be grateful for:

I wasn’t cut, or hurt in any way. No one else was in the kitchen, so no picking glass out of the dog, or the wife, or grandchildren’s eyes. Miraculously, the part-full coffee pot on the counter only lost its rim so no mopping or repainting the walls required. Melita coffee pots are replaceable, even if they won’t be delivered till Friday. I hadn’t started to cook dinner yet, so no throwing away a glass littered half-cooked meal.

We are all still alive, mostly vertical, and as healthy as late seventy-somethings ever are -technically the dog is in her human-year eighties, and is showing her age, but is no worse for the glass-splosion in the evening kitchen, caused by the Culler Curse.

The Curse

It was my eldest sister’s late husband, also called Alan, who observed that “Culler’s are all clumsy.” We did tend to trip around my brother-in-law, and bump into door frames, and drop breakables. He would laugh, shake his head, and mutter, “Claaah-um-see!”

I began to wonder how much of our ineptitude was endemic and how much was the anxiety produced by Alan’s ever-present judgement. Were my sisters and I, and my children just performing up to his expectation.

At family gatherings though, when the subject would come up, we’d find that “the curse” showed itself in all our lives at various times even when my brother-in-law was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s just that you’re kinetic,” my kind wife tells me. “You have an energy about you. It’s why electronics so often malfunction around you. And your body is always moving, sometimes in ways that bear no relationship to what you are doing at the moment.”

I don’t know who coined the name the “Culler curse,” but it clearly stuck. The curse is passed down genetically. Not everybody has it or at least has it equally. Most agree that my great niece, Lauren, Alan’s granddaughter, has the curse, but her brother and sister not so much.

My children have the curse, though in varying degrees. My late cousin Jeannine, who sailed around the South Pacific, said “it visits me occasionally and with a vengeance when it comes, but the curse isn’t always there.”

The curse comes in cycles. Today I talked to my sister, Lynne, who told me, “We have a coffee pot that doesn’t fit the maker because, I have broken not one, but two recently, setting them down too hard on the counter. I also talked to my youngest daughter who regaled me with the story of the burn on her hand, injured because she decided she didn’t need the hot water she’d just boiled to mix with her espresso, but then reached for her coffee placing her hand into the steam stream from the kettle.

I remember my mother asking, ”Alan where did you get that scratch on your leg?”

“I dunno”

“Oh Alan, Honey, you need to pay attention.”

Absence of Mindfulness

My mother called me “accident prone,” and said the many minor scratches and cuts that I got as a child were from “not paying attention.” She was right.

If we look at this example, I grabbed for the cookbook, oblivious to the fact that the spare coffee pot was next to it. I was anxious, about not writing, about being late, about not remembering how to cook the dish. I was in my head, and that part of my head was out of touch with the part of my head controlling my body.

I needed to not be on autopilot, to pay attention to what I was doing at the moment, in short to be mindful. The absence of mindfulness sets the “Culler curse” free. When the curse is free, however, it can do things that cause people to say “what are the chances?”, like tumbling one coffee pot out of the cabinet and hit another on the way down.

“You couldn’t do that again if you tried.”

“Yep, Culler curse.”

Of course, we could also look at anticipating the Culler curse. I use the cookbooks, so maybe find a new place for the spare coffee pot.

One more thing to be grateful for. I didn’t break the entire second pot. Coffee is very important in this household and the replacement isn’t coming till Friday. (See the second pot repaired with duct tape above.)

Now what could go wrong with this picture?

“Yep, Culler curse.”