That moment when . . .

I noticed the beautiful little girl, with giant blue eyes, and ghost white hair. She had a younger sister that looked just like her sitting quietly on her dad’s chest in a chest carrier.   However, unlike her sister, she was anything but quiet.  Standing between her mom’s legs, this little girl was unhappy.  I could see the independent streak in this little firecracker. Not a day older than 3, this toddler knew exactly what she wanted and no one, not ever her Mom were going to deter her.

I sat and watched.

We were on the train at the Denver International Airport. I was coming home from Indianapolis, I don’t know where they were coming from, but they had two carry-on suitcases. So, my guess, they were on a short vacation, but if you’ve had kids, you understand, long or short trips, it doesn’t matter with the little ones.

Dad was leaning against the railing by the door. He had his youngest daughter attached to his chest. He was holding the telescopes of the two suite cases, to keep them from rolling away. Next to him, his wife was holding their other daughter, the disgruntled one. The train was stopped, anticipating the jerk as it was about to move, Mom tried to get this little firecracker to grab the rail.  But she wasn’t having it.

That moment when . . .

I could see the belligerence in her eyes. Knowing nothing about jerking trains, or the risk of crowds, not limited by social constructs and politeness, this little girl knew all she wanted was to stand on her own, not holding the rail and roam around the train and Mom was in her way.

Mom was diligent. Constrained by her knowledge, she didn’t have the liberty to let her little girl do what she wanted.

Thus the fireworks began.

The moment when . . .

Her daughter lost it. She started kicking and screaming. Her mom picked her up and the tantrum increased. This blue eyed beauty began hitting and pulling her mother’s hair. The brown beaded necklace she was wearing was being yanked and pulled by all the fury of a two-year-old being denied. Her daughter was uncontrollable.

The moment when . . .

I saw the helplessness visible on Dad’s face.  Saddled with the luggage and his other daughter, Dad could do nothing but watch, helplessly. The desperation and helplessness were apparent. He was frozen, unable to help, yet absorbing all the frustration of the situation.  Mom was on here own, and he could not rescue her.

The train lurches forward, and the scene plays out for 1o minutes and the two stops it takes to get to the terminal.  Once at the terminal, the doors open, mom reaches down picks up her daughter, and they head up the escalator.

The moment when . . .

I’m riding up the adjacent escalator, and I am suddenly hit with all of the emotions from when my daughters had their breakdowns. The times when I felt helpless and unable to get my children under control. I remembered. The emotions were so raw; I felt them as if they had just happened yesterday.

The moment when . . .

Filled with these memories and an appreciation for what she was feeling I leaned across the elevator, tapped her arm and said. “I’ve been there. It’s gonna get better.”

The moment when . . .

She lifted her head, exhaled and said; “Thank you, I have never wanted to be so invisible in my entire life.”

I smiled and said anyone who had kids understood and anyone who doesn’t doesn’t matter.

The moment when . . .

She smiled a huge smile. I saw everything in her change. Her face lit up, her shoulders dropped. She exhaled, and you could see the stress, anguish, embarrassment, and frustration leave in that single breath.

The moment when  . . .

I realized that it’s the simplest things that change people’s lives. That it doesn’t take much to make a difference. That connecting with someone’s emotions and feelings is all it takes to make an impact.

The moment when . . .

I’m reminded of the power of empathy.

I walked off that elevator with goose bumps, tears welling in my eyes.  This beautiful woman, with a loving husband, and two gorgeous daughters was just desperate to be acknowledged, to be told it was OK, and she almost didn’t get it.

The moment when . . .

I realized that empathy in sales comes from empathy in life.

The greatest salespeople in the world are tremendously empathetic, and I believe this trait is developed in everyday life, not in the deal.

Empathy in life is where the best salespeople learn to connect, to embrace and engage with others. Living lives connected to others feelings and emotions comes with the on the job

The moment when . . .

You are aksing yourself if you’re the empathetic person you need to be.  Are you developing your empathy outside of the deal?

You should be.