I received an email recently from someone who had just finished reading my book Behind the Tape.
She told me about her traumatic experiences with police back in 1988 and 1989.
Apparently, she and her friends used to park up at Milford Beach on the North Shore, doing what generations of Kiwi teenagers have done for decades: nothing.
She recalled being pulled out of cars by police on several occasions while asleep in the back seat.
Her conclusion, the police were bored. According to my book, apparently that was all my fault.
There was only one small problem - I didn't join the police until 1992.
A bit like blaming Richie McCaw for losing the 1987 World Cup.
I replied politely and pointed out that during the period she was referring to, I wasn't a police officer at all.
In fact, I was in the same age group being regularly stopped myself.
I reminded her that the New Zealand Bill of Rights didn't arrive until 1990 and policing in the 1980s looked very different from policing today.
A reply arrived - "Thanks, Lance. I know it wasn't you..." Followed by several colourful observations about police.
Then she finished with: "Great book BTW."
That's when I laughed.
If I'm honest, twenty years ago I might have read that first email and immediately gone into defence mode.
I would have felt misunderstood, I might have rushed to explain, I might even have become a little (lot) grumpy.
These days I'm learning that people often aren't looking for a fight; they're just looking for somewhere to put a feeling.
Sometimes they're carrying around a story that's been sitting with them for forty years. Sometimes they just need to vent.
The lesson for me, before responding, is to take a moment to breathe out!
Make sure you're actually being accused before launching into your defence.
Sometimes the person having the argument is you, and the other person doesn't even know they're in it yet.
Let’s talk!
You Be You!
How often do you follow your own advice that you offer to others. Me, not so much, until just recently. "Stay the path" I often say when others begin to doubt themselves or their business/career decisions.
Everyone will tell you that the last few years have been very tough no matter who you are or what you do. I am no different. How can I grow the business, how can I get fitter, how can I grow more hair !
Believe in yourself and the direction you are heading, truly believe. Turn off the social media, let AI help someone else for a change and don't listen to the doubting voice inside your head.
You be you, babe. Or perhaps modify you if it isn't working for you.
When in Melbourne last week for the AICLA - Victorian Division iAdjust conference, I captured the main corridor of the Melbourne Convention and Exhibition Centre. I've walked this corridor a few times, the last time was with my wife and daughter on a business trip, the last overseas journey before the infamous '2020 stay at home.'
It takes 6 to 8 minutes to walk from one end to the other of this corridor. Wouldn't it be amazing to deliver a presentation in this fantastic building I thought. Well, it happened last week.
Thank you Jon Stagg for remembering me from when you were in NZ. Your kindness made one of my dreams (I have lots of dreams and goals) come true. Humbling and exciting.
Dream the dream, have many goals, stay the path, and you be you. Wonderful things will happen, I promise you.
As for the hair, that's a work in progress, I'll just keep wateirng it and see what happens.
Quiet Leaders Outperform!
Speak up, be heard, be dominant. If you’re not loud, you’re not influencing.
That’s what many of us were taught way back when.
Yet, the research tells a very different story.
Studies from Harvard and leading universities found that quieter, more introverted leaders often outperform louder ones, especially in fast-changing environments.
In fact, one major study showed they can drive up to 28% higher productivity in proactive teams.
Why?
The quiet achiever does something the loudest rarely does - they listen, they process, they think.
Neuroscience backs up this research.
Quiet thinkers tend to have more activity in areas of the brain linked to analysis, focus and decision-making, thus allowing them to stay with problems longer and make more considered choices.
While the loud push to be heard, the quiet pull people in. While the loud react, the quiet reflect.
This doesn’t mean loud is bad.
Knowing when to speak and when to pause is the genuine advantage.
If you’ve ever felt overlooked because you’re not the loudest voice in the room - don’t change a thing.
Sometimes the one who wins isn’t necessarily the loudest.
It’s often the one who understands that has the most impact.
Let’s talk!
I Was A Detention Specialist.
Growing up, I was always getting into trouble.
Not really serious trouble, although I did have a visit from a police officer more than once.
"What were you thinking?"
An excellent question, one I rarely knew the answer to.
The strange thing was that I knew the difference between right and wrong. That wasn't the problem.
The problem was that while other kids seemed to see a bad idea and avoid it, I'd see a bad idea and think, ‘this could be funny.’
I spent a fair bit of time by myself in the naughty corner at primary school.
At high school, I achieved what was probably a unique distinction. During woodwork class, I had to stand in a position where both the woodwork teacher and the principal could keep an eye on me.
It was like being under 24-hour surveillance before CCTV was invented.
The principal walked past. "What are you up to, Burdett?" He knew me by my last name, which must be a good thing.
Looking back, it should probably have been humiliating, a real punishment.
Funnily enough, it wasn't. Part of me felt different, part of me felt rebellious, and if I'm completely honest, part of me was secretly proud of challenging the system.
Not that the system seemed particularly challenged; it usually won.
I often remember thinking – ‘I wish I didn't do dumb sh*t."
It wasn't like I woke up each morning with a carefully prepared plan to annoy teachers, upset adults, or earn another detention.
Things just seemed to happen, and before I knew what had happened, I was standing in front of someone explaining why it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
Years later, there are plenty of things I could blame. Growing up without much money, struggling to learn, difficulty sitting still, not understanding how my brain worked.
There's a long list available if I want one. But the older I get, the less interested I am in finding something to blame. Because if I'm honest, I still do dumb sh*t.
The difference is that nowadays it usually ends with a strained muscle, a swollen ankle, or my wife asking – ‘What were you thinking?"
Which remains an excellent question.
The person I think about most is my dad. Now and then he'd look at me after another spectacularly poor decision and ask, "Why do you always do this?"
I never had an answer. I'd shrug my shoulders, look at the ground, and say nothing.
Fifty years later, I'd love to go back and answer him. The problem is that I still don't know.
If you ever figure it out, could you please let me know?
Asking for a former detention specialist who is still doing dumb sh*t!
Let’s talk!
Pause, Reflect, Act.
Have you ever heard the saying – We always tend to hurt the ones we love – in our conversations?
It sounds harsh; is it actually true?
Research suggests, and I don’t like saying this, it often is.
Not because we love them less, but because we love them more.
The people closest to us are the ones our brain feels safest with. That safety lowers our guard and sometimes, our filter.
Psychologists call this displacement. We hold in frustration at work, in public, with strangers, and then release it at home, where it feels safer to do so.
Neuroscience adds another layer to this. In close relationships, our brains are more emotionally connected and reactive.
A tone, a look, a small comment can trigger a much bigger response, flipping us into survival mode.
When that happens? We’re no longer responding; we are protecting.
So yes, sometimes we hurt the ones we love. Not because they matter least, but because they matter most.
Try this when you feel emotions building in a conversation with a loved one: The 3-Second Reset.
When you notice the shift, such as your tone rising and your body tightening, pause for just 3 seconds.
Take a slow breath in, drop your shoulders, and ask yourself: “What’s going on here?”
That tiny pause interrupts the survival response and gives your thinking brain a chance to catch up. It allows you to catch yourself just one moment earlier.
Pause, reflect, act.
Let’s talk!