I was talking to a man who started dating. He was irritated because when he took his date to the restaurant, she said, "I can’t eat here. It’s not vegan.” He didn’t mind her food preferences and thought there would be some options for her at the place he chose. But her declaration had a tone of entitlement.
I discovered something essential about being a leader many years ago during my drama therapy internship at the West Haven Veterans Hospital. I was left in charge of eight burly Vietnam veterans to run their weekly “relationship lab”; a group which used improvised scenes to explore styles of communication and the effects of PTSD on interactions.
One seemingly ordinary January day, I was walking along the road from my home in the woods to run some errands in the little town of Woodstock, NY. My brain, churning a million thoughts -- about my relationship, my work, my close friends — suddenly stopped, and what appeared before me was . . .
Everything of high value requires your protection: Your sentimental objects, your iPhone, your children, your health, your IRA. So why not your dear, dear heart? Counter to popular new age philosophy that being open with and about everything is the key to living well, I am going to counsel you to protect your vulnerability.
Oh, the disappointment. Lance Armstrong, champion of champions, exposed as a liar and a cheat. Beyonce, pop-star Goddess, lip-syncing the anthem at our nation's most prestigious live event. It's an old story in current headlines: How our leaders, heroes and celebrities fail us and fall from grace. What can we do to build trust?