Neurotic Introverts Are the Best Team Players

They might have social anxiety, but they contribute more to group projects than the office extroverts.

Social anxiety. Emotional volatility. Withdrawal.

These may not be the characteristics you typically associate with effective employees, but new research from UCLA suggests that neurotic people are actually more valuable on team projects than the flashy extroverts.

What’s this mean for managers? You’re probably under-using the introverted, neurotic staff members, when you should, in fact, be maximizing their potential on group projects.

The researchers conducted two separate studies--one that surveyed MBA students' behavior and another that noted employee behavior towards the two personality types.

The findings? Qualities that make extroverts seem like strong workers, such as their assertiveness and dominance, raise team members’ expectations of them.

Extroverts in the study were also more likely to be poor listeners and indifferent to input from other team members. Ultimately, over the 10-week period, this tension caused extroverts to disappoint their groups and underwhelm their peers’ expectations.

Rising to the occasion were the neurotic group members. Neurotics’ personalities are the kind that get highly engaged with tasks, researchers said, leaving them to gain status among the group members by surpassing their low expectations.

http://www.inc.com/sonya-chudgar/neurotic-introverts-are-your-top-team-members.html

8 Things You Should Not Do Every Day

It's for your own good. Cut these things out of your day and you'll see gains in productivity--not to mention happiness.

If you get decent value from making to-do lists, you'll get huge returns--in productivity, in improved relationships, and in your personal well-being--from adding these items to your not to-do list:

Every day, make the commitment not to:

1. Check my phone while I'm talking to someone.
You've done it. You've played the, "Is that your phone? Oh, it must be mine," game. You've tried the you-think-sly-but-actually-really-obvious downwards glance. You've done the, "Wait, let me answer this text..." thing.
Maybe you didn't even say, "Wait." You just stopped talking, stopped paying attention, and did it.
Want to stand out? Want to be that person everyone loves because they make you feel, when they're talking to you, like you're the most important person in the world?
Stop checking your phone. It doesn't notice when you aren't paying attention.
Other people? They notice.
And they care.

2. Multitask during a meeting.
The easiest way to be the smartest person in the room is to be the person who pays the most attention to the room.
You'll be amazed by what you can learn, both about the topic of the meeting and about the people in the meeting if you stop multitasking and start paying close attention. You'll flush out and understand hidden agendas, you'll spot opportunities to build bridges, and you'll find ways to make yourself indispensable to the people who matter.
It's easy, because you'll be the only one trying.
And you'll be the only one succeeding on multiple levels.

3. Think about people who don't make any difference in my life.
Trust me: The inhabitants of planet Kardashian are okay without you.
But your family, your friends, your employees--all the people that really matter to you--are not. Give them your time and attention.
They're the ones who deserve it.

4. Use multiple notifications.
You don't need to know the instant you get an email. Or a text. Or a tweet. Or anything else that pops up on your phone or computer.
If something is important enough for you to do, it's important enough for you to do without interruptions. Focus totally on what you're doing. Then, on a schedule you set--instead of a schedule you let everyone else set--play prairie dog and pop your head up to see what's happening.
And then get right back to work. Focusing on what you are doing is a lot more important than focusing on other people might be doing.
They can wait. You, and what is truly important to you, cannot.

5. Let the past dictate the future.

Mistakes are valuable. Learn from them.
Then let them go.
Easier said than done? It all depends on your perspective. When something goes wrong, turn it into an opportunity to learn something you didn't know--especially about yourself.
When something goes wrong for someone else, turn it into an opportunity to be gracious, forgiving, and understanding.
The past is just training. The past should definitely inform but in no way define you--unless you let it.

6. Wait until I'm sure I will succeed.
You can never feel sure you will succeed at something new, but you can always feel sure you are committed to giving something your best.
And you can always feel sure you will try again if you fail.
Stop waiting. You have a lot less to lose than you think, and everything to gain.

7. Talk behind someone's back.
If only because being the focus of gossip sucks. (And so do the people who gossip.)
If you've talked to more than one person about something Joe is doing, wouldn't everyone be better off if you stepped up and actually talked to Joe about it? And if it's "not your place" to talk to Joe, it's probably not your place to talk about Joe.
Spend your time on productive conversations. You'll get a lot more done--and you'll gain a lot more respect.

8. Say "yes" when I really mean "no."
Refusing a request from colleagues, customers, or even friends is really hard. But rarely does saying no go as badly as you expect. Most people will understand, and if they don't, should you care too much about what they think?
When you say no, at least you'll only feel bad for a few moments. When you say yes to something you really don't want to do you might feel bad for a long time--or at least as long as it takes you to do what you didn't want to do in the first place.

http://www.inc.com/jeff-haden/8-things-you-should-not-do-every-day.html

Best Way to Introduce Yourself

Who is the most important audience? Hint: It's not the people you meet.
 
Whenever you introduce yourself, the person you meet is not the most important audience.

You are the most important audience.

Here's why.

I like to ride bicycles. I'm not super fit. And I'm not super fast. But I like riding, and in weak moments occasionally even think of myself as a "cyclist."

So occasionally I ride in mass participation events like gran fondos. The average participant tends to be a serious cyclist: Many are triathletes, some are amateur racers, and occasionally even a few professionals show up. I live in a valley between two mountain ranges, so our events are not for the faint of fitness.

I was standing in the start area for a gran fondo that involved climbing four mountains when a man rolled over towards me. My guess is he picked me out since I was clearly one of the older riders in the field. (That was a delightful sentence to write.) As he stopped he struggled to unclip from his pedals and almost fell.

"Morning," he said, the bass in his voice turned up to 10. "I'm Louis Winthorpe III*. I'm the CEO of WeKickSeriousButt Enterprises."**

"Jeff," I said. I shook his hand.

"I am really looking forward to this," he said. "I could use the break to recharge the old batteries. Just in the last few days I've had to finalize a huge contract, visit two of our plants, and sign off on plans for a new marketing push."

How do you respond to that? "Wow, you've been busy," was the best I could manage.

"Oh, not really," he said, trying and failing to seem humble. "Just same stuff, different day. I just wish I wasn't so busy. I only have time to do the shorter course today. I would have absolutely killed the long ride. What about you?"

"I'm afraid the long ride is going to kill me," I said.

"Feel free to latch on to my wheel," he said, referring to drafting in another rider's slipstream. "I'll tow you along for as long as you can hang with me." Then he slowly and carefully clipped into one pedal and wobbled away.

Cocky? Full of himself? Sure, but only on the surface: His $12,000 bike, pseudo-pro gear, and "I rule the business world" introduction were an unconscious effort to protect his ego. What his introduction really said was, "While I might not turn out to be good at cycling, that's okay because out in the real world, where it really matters, I am The Man."

While he introduced himself to me, he was his real audience.

And that's a shame. For the next six or eight hours he could have just been a cyclist. He could have struggled and suffered and maybe even rekindled the ember of youth inside us that burns a little less brightly with each passing year.

How do you introduce yourself? When you feel insecure, do you prop up your courage with your introduction? Do you include titles or accomplishments or "facts" when you don't need to?
If so, your introduction is all about you, not your audience.

Instead:
See less as more.
Brief introductions are always best. Provide the bare minimum the other person needs to know, not in an attempt to maintain distance, but because during a conversation more about you can be revealed in a natural, unforced, and therefore much more memorable way.

Stay in context.
If you meet another parent at a school meeting, for example, just say, "Hi, I'm Mark. My daughter is in third grade." Keep your introduction in context with the setting. If there is no real context, like at a gran fondo, just say, "Hi, I'm Mark. Good luck."

Embrace understatement.
Unless you're in a business setting, your job title is irrelevant. Even if you are in fact the CEO of WeKickSeriousButt Enterprises, just say you work there. To err is human. To err humble is divine.

Focus on the other person.
The other person is the only person that matters. Ask questions. Actually listen to the answers. The best connections never come from speaking; the best connections always come from listening.

That day I rolled into the finishing area well over six hours later. I stopped and slumped over my handlebars beside a small cluster of riders who had finished well before me. They were already changed and working on a post-ride beer.

One of them looked over and said, "How was it?"

"It sucked," I said.

They all laughed, and he said, "And it was awesome, right?"

I smiled, because it was. He reached over and gave me a fist bump. "I'll grab you a beer and you can tell us all about it," he said. I looked forward to the conversation more than the beer. Acceptance and camaraderie are earned by effort, not granted by title.

At that moment I happened to see Louis, sitting alone as he packed up his gear. I felt a twinge of sadness because he never allowed himself to just be a rider. He never gave himself the chance to fit in, enjoy a shared purpose, and to simply be a cyclist among cyclists.

When you introduce yourself, embrace the moment and the setting for what it says about you in that moment, not in comparison to your titles or accomplishments.

Just be whoever you are, skills and struggles and triumphs and failures and all. You are your true audience, even when you introduce yourself.

Always be yourself--especially to yourself.

* Clearly not his real name. (Trading Places!)
** Not really, but not far off.

http://www.inc.com/jeff-haden/a-great-way-to-introduce-yourself.html