Elephant Thinking

      The next morning Steve pulled up to Cayla’s Café and parked in a spot just outside the storefront. A little chime rang as he entered the door—a melodious signal to the clerks that someone might need their help. As he ordered his mocha, he heard someone whistling across the room. It was Cayla, who motioned for him to join her.

      Steve grabbed his mug and moved toward Cayla. She disappeared behind a bookcase, but he followed the whistling and found her digging through a desk in her little office.

      “So,” she began without looking up, “how did the assignment go?” She continued to search the drawer.

      “I did the survey, and I think it underscored what you said yesterday about people not being mind readers. I’m not sure where it’s leading, but it taught me something.”

      “What did you learn from the survey?” Cayla asked as she pulled a pair of scissors from a tangle of rubber bands and paperclips.

      “It wasn’t so much the survey, but the discussion it generated. It became obvious that no boss can know and provide the motivation that every individual needs. Each of us has a different motivation for doing what we do, so it is up to us to take initiative for creating a professional environment that works for us,” Steve concluded confidently.

      “Well done,” Cayla said with a smile. “You have proved ready to accept the responsibility of self leadership. It’s time to learn the first trick of a self leader.” Cayla picked up her scissors and led Steve to a table nestled among the bookshelves. “What other insights did you have about being a self leader?”

      “I don’t know if this will make sense, because I usually need time to process things,” Steve said.

      “Go ahead,” Cayla encouraged.

      “It has to do with my whole way of thinking about the workplace—things I have believed since I started working, even as a kid. Up until yesterday, I thought my boss should know what I need and give it to me. But that’s not how it works. I wonder what else I have wrong.”

      “Do you have a business card?” Cayla asked.

      “Sure,” Steve said. He pulled a card from his briefcase and handed it to her. “I apologize. I should have given one to you yesterday.”

      “It’s not for me—it’s for you. It’s a challenge.” Cayla held the standard-size business card in both hands, turning it over several times as though to be sure there was nothing abnormal about it.

      She slid the scissors in Steve’s direction and ceremoniously laid the business card down on the table. “Take these scissors and cut a hole from the card large enough to go around your head. By the way, a hole is a space surrounded by continuous paper—no gaps or breaks, or joining ends.”

      Steve looked at her as though she were crazy. Cayla sat silently, waiting.

      “I know you said you were going to teach me some magic, but I don’t have time for games, Cayla. My job is in jeopardy.”

      Cayla replied, “I know you think you don’t have time for this. You can’t imagine how it could be useful or relevant and besides, it’s just a trick, right?”

      “Now that you mention it, I hate parlor tricks—I’ve never been any good at them. I’ve lost more money in bars than you can imagine. Some people just have a knack for this kind of thing—I don’t.”

      Cayla nodded. “Elephant thinking.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “You’ve limited yourself based on your past experiences,” she said. “When they begin to train an elephant, they chain the baby elephant’s leg to a pole in the ground. The baby elephant wants to get away. He pulls and tugs, but he can’t escape—the chain is too big and the pole is too deep in the ground. So he stops trying. As he grows up, he just assumes he can’t get away.

      “Today he’s a six-ton elephant. He could sneeze and pull out that chain—but he doesn’t even try. Trainers say they can put a piece of string around that six-ton elephant’s leg and he won’t break away.”

      “So you’re saying I’m like that elephant?” Steve frowned. “That because I’ve failed in the past I don’t even try anymore?” Hearing the words out loud, he realized there was some truth in what he was saying.

      Cayla smiled. “You have just tapped into the first trick of a self leader.”

      Steve perked up. “Really?”

      “Yes. It’s those kinds of assumptions that limit you every day. They’re called assumed constraints.”

      “What’s a consumed restraint?” Steve asked.

      She laughed at his mangled terminology, then clarified:

      “An assumed constraint is a belief that limits your experience.”

      “Okay, I understand that I have assumed constraints about this scissors-and-card trick, but what’s that got to do with my work situation?” Steve asked.

      “You are assuming you know what Rhonda, your team, and your client think and feel. You are assuming you can’t be successful in your role at work. You need to knock it off.”

      “This is depressing,” Steve said.

      “It could be inspirational,” Cayla countered.

      “Too bad I don’t have your powers of observation. Then I’d know what everybody is thinking and I wouldn’t jump to assumed constraints so often,” Steve said.

      “Being able to read people is a gift—but the greater gift is to know your own mind.”

      Steve winced. “Yeah. That’s a definite challenge.”