It's Hard When Your Gifts Aren't Received
I recently offered to help a community group I'm a part of to prepare for an upcoming meeting that promised to be potentially divisive. Having facilitated groups in dialogue and decision making for years, I knew how to approach this in a way that would address both the human need for the inclusion side of things, as well as the tactical, how-do-we-move-forward side of things.
I received a "thanks but no thanks" response to my offer. I didn't trust that the reasons given for not wanting my support were the real reasons, even if the real reasons remained unconscious to the decision makers.
I attended the meeting. It was polarizing, as many in the community had anticipated. Toward the end of the 2-hour meeting, a few participants asked for precisely the thing I had preemptively offered and been turned down on. (If you're curious, it was primarily a way to transparently yet anonymously see where everyone stands on the issue.)
Sometime later I hope to write a part 2 to this story and share more technical detail with you about the resistance I encountered and the reason my offering would have served the group. But for now, this post is about the pain we humans feel when we offer our gifts up to the world and—surprise—not everyone wants them.
My experience is not unique. I'm certain you, too, have had offers of your gifts rejected. So I am here to say that I understand the pain you felt when your gifts were not received. For myself, I have used the energy from that pain to extract what this experience has given me.
This experience has given me the resolve to be a magnet for those who DO want my gifts.
This experience has given me conviction that what I have to offer will make a difference for those who accept it. And I will be humbled by their acceptance.
This experience has taught me that I need to do a better job of selling my ideas, which I risk taking to be self-evident. I must take a beginner’s mindset in order to meet others where they are.
On that last point, in retrospect, I may not have made a strong enough case for a) my track record and expertise, or b) my neutral, benevolent intent, or c) my ability to get the results via a process that aligned with what the deciders wanted for their community.
I always feel better after painful experiences knowing that I learned something and am stronger for it. And part of the lesson is simply that it is painful to have our gifts rejected.
