My Only Quota
My Only Quota
Quintessential questions, masterful listening, and gratitude.
Can you bring to mind someone who has had an outsized impact on your life? A high school teacher or college professor who inspired your desire to learn or find your lifetime vocation? A work colleague who mentored you, maybe even without you asking or noticing at first? Perhaps a college roommate or close friend who was always there for you, who instilled confidence in you, no matter what?
Pause and reflect.
We’ll return to the person you brought to mind in just a bit 😊.
For me, this person was my first boss, Ben. The year was 1988. I was a freshly minted college grad and had just landed a job with a technology division of United Parcel Service. Starting salary – a whopping $18,000 a year.
Ben was a Vietnam War veteran who served in the Special Forces. He earned a Bronze Star for heroism in ground combat. His love of his country was boundless. His service-oriented nature was endless. His love of people – infinite.
Ben was the VP of Sales, and when my name slipped into the tiny rectangular box at the bottom of Ben’s org chart – Outside Sales Rep – his love found an outlet in me. For three years, our twenty-year age difference was the only thing that separated us. At the end of our sales day, Ben would walk me through the engineering cubicles and out to the manufacturing floor, educating me on how our different business functions came together to create world-class products. At the end of each quarter, he would show me how our revenue and costs cascaded through our income statement to generate profit.
Our business relationship blossomed into an enduring friendship. On weekends, if we weren’t playing tennis at sunrise, we were crisscrossing the state, searching for rainbow trout in hard-to-reach streams. During the dead zone of our long drives, Ben would tell war stories of combat, conflict, and teamwork – case studies in human nature from which we can learn – he would say. Every few months, he’d drop a book on my chair – sometimes business-related, more often personal – offering subjects that expanded my worldview. I soaked them up.
My time with Ben was like earning a personal MBA wrapped with his worldly wisdom.
Ben’s greatest gift was teaching me to get inside the world of others. “Young James,” Ben would say, “Our job is not to sell potential customers our product. Our job is to discover what problem they are trying to solve and determine if we can help solve it for them. We do this by becoming skilled at asking questions and becoming masterful at listening.”
When I’d return from prospective customer visits, Ben would always ask, “What were your three best questions?” After telling him, Ben would offer suggestions for turning good questions into better questions and better questions into high-quality ones.
Then he’d ask what I’d heard. Not what the customer said but perceptions I’d gleaned – from body language, wayward glances, or conversation pauses. “Masterful listening,” Ben would say, “is being able to hear and feel what isn’t expressed through words.”
In Ben’s sales organization, our only quota was high-quality questions and masterful listening.
Ben’s love, wisdom, and unique quota-setting philosophy went on to a permanent home at UPS corporate headquarters until his retirement. I left UPS for another tech company, and though I moved from sales to marketing, asking questions and listening for what wasn’t being said remained an indelible part of my DNA.
For most twenty-somethings not long out of college, problems exist as rent to pay, student loans to service, and cars to buy. Around the corner are more significant aims – a first home, a family to feed, children’s education to save for, and vacations to afford. As I forged my path, cultural norms in the form of traditional questions – how can I get ahead, advance my career, and make more money – became my focus.
Increasing my income was the solution, so I set my sights on increased responsibility and bigger titles. I coveted promotions and contorted myself to secure them. I fashioned my identity by advancing and achieving. I measured success in ½ inch increments – moving my name into rectangular boxes higher up the org chart. On some days, when I misplaced my humility, I’d source my importance from the number of rectangular boxes below me.
All the while, my ego took delight.
After fifteen years, I was working for my second Fortune 500 company and had made it above the fold on the org chart. I’d achieved a half dozen promotions and no longer needed to budget. And I was exhausted. As I badged into work each day, I found myself manufacturing motivation.
One day, the ground shifted. An unfamiliar awareness startled me. Alarmed me. “I don’t want my boss's job,” I thought. It happened again – “I’m not having fun anymore.” And again – “I’m so tired of tech.”
Distressing questions followed. “How long do I need to slog away at this job? Is this my legacy? Could I volunteer at the YMCA? Could I coach a team? My God, where would I find the time?” Questions not directed at someone else, but questions being asked of me, by me, for me, from somewhere deep inside me.
It was as if these questions formed as bubbles in my subconscious and floated upward to the surface of my consciousness. At first, I discarded them. Next, I tamped them down. Then, I imposed my will and ignored them. Nothing worked. Their frequency increased. I’d awaken in the middle of the night – Am I getting ahead? Where exactly is ‘ahead’? What does ‘ahead’ even look like?
As foam from the bubbles swirled in the eddy of my exhausted mind, I realized that my soul wanted in on the action. It desired my attention. It hoped I would ask it questions. It wanted me to listen to what it had to say.
And so began a new and courageous conversation with myself. I initiated the internal dialogue by returning to Ben’s wisdom. I thought, “What are three high-quality questions I can ask my soul?”
In the subsequent weeks, dozens of questions surfaced – many good, some better. Three high-quality ones stood out:
How do I wish to spend myself? (Not spend my time. Not spend my money. Instead, spend my self.)
What future can only be authored by me?
What must be present for me to feel fulfilled?
The mere presence of these questions, my quintessential questions as I would call them, caused me to recognize that the rectangular boxes I’d been aspiring to – sitting ever so regally near the top of the org chart – were too small for me. The titles, my perception of their importance, and the money, didn’t feed my soul.
My soul contemplated the questions, sending new bubbles to the surface with answers. As my listening got better and my hearing improved, clarity emerged. My soul told me to find a vocation where I could serve people directly. It told me I would be happiest bringing meaning to the lives of others – one person at a time. And my soul told me to create outlets to share my unique perspectives1 with others.
For the next several years, I unmade my life to remake my life. I walked my way down the org chart and then leapt off it when I started a business to serve people and bring meaning to their lives. I relocated to a new city where my soul felt at home and ended a relationship that had run its course. I found a soulmate and created a family. I sometimes felt scared - not knowing how these new headings would play out. Yet, when I’d check in with my soul, it would float a bubble upward and tell me we were on the right track.
A few years back, 2 ½ decades after the universe connected us, Ben called. We hadn’t talked in several years, even though we exchanged seasonal warmth by way of Christmas cards. When two question-askers connect, it can be awkward as questions collide. We fell into a rhythm – Ben going first – catching me up on his family, especially his four grandsons. I could sense his affection in the pauses between the words. I caught him up on my family, my new vocation, and the clients I was privileged to serve. From there, we moved into recent fishing escapades.
As our conversation wound down, it was as if muscle memory kicked in. “Ben, what are the three best questions you’re asking yourself these days?” I inquired.
Ben pondered his answer while I listened to the silence.
He replied, “Not-So-Young-James, my kidneys are starting to fail. I don’t have as much energy as I used to. My days are filled with reflection, so I dwell on relationships and feel immense gratitude. My three best questions are:
For what am I grateful? To whom am I grateful? Am I expressing my gratitude?”
Ben continued, “When I reflect on my life, it was a privilege to serve my country. It was even more of a privilege to serve with remarkable men. I’m grateful for the opportunities UPS gave me, yet I’m even more grateful for the people I worked with. I loved the cities Charmaine and I lived in, along with the comfortable houses, but I most relish the backyard barbecues with close friends and my children and grandchildren. Not-So-Young-James, I’m grateful for those fish we caught – they were beauties – but I’m even more grateful for our belly laughs, camaraderie, and companionship. I consider you my son and love you like my daughters.”
It was beautiful.
I realized after we hung up that Ben called that day to express his gratitude. It was like he was waiting for me to ask him for his three best questions – knowing deep down that I would – just like he’d modeled to me – so that he could share his appreciation. ❤️
It was our last conversation. Ben passed away less than a year later.
When it comes to living a meaningful life, my only quota is asking my soul quintessential questions, listening masterfully for the answers, and expressing gratitude.
In honor of Ben, I leave you with three questions:
What is a quintessential question you could ask your soul?
If you listen masterfully, what are the bubbles from your soul saying to you?
Returning to the person you brought to mind at the beginning, have you expressed your gratitude to them? (If not, perhaps forward this email to them with a note of appreciation.)
In the words of the German theologian Meister Eckhart, “If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.”
I hope this piece made you smile, contributed meaning to your life, or touched your heart. Please feel free to comment or give any feedback. I would be grateful if you did.
Thank you to
for his feedback and partnership on this essay.
This came across my feed yesterday, I intentionally did not open until I had a quiet space and time to absorb. As expected I left feeling enlightened by your words-thanks a James for your words here and mentorship when I was underneath you in a little box
James, again I am in awe of your wisdom, and your ability to look at yourself, and make the changes you desire. You are my Ben!!