How to Make Sure You Keep Advancing—Your Products, Your People, Your Career

Advancing, or getting different results than you’re currently
getting, requires doing something different, which isn’t always
comfortable.


 


How many people do you know who keep doing the same things and
hoping for different results? We’ve all done it. Why?


 


Because it’s easier, and more comfortable, to do what you know.
But we learn—and grow more effective—during periods of
discomfort, which is exactly why we need to train in discomfort.


 


Here’s how I unintentionally trained in discomfort recently.
 


 


A good friend of mine told me about a spa that I had to
experience. She went into elaborate detail about the healing
nature of the various saunas, hot tubs, and treatments.


 


“It’s a full day experience,” Christina said, “and it’s thirty
bucks.”


 


My partner, Yvette, had also heard great things about the spa
from her aesthetician, who said we had to get the body scrub.


 


A full day of hot tubs, saunas, and body treatments? Sign me up!


 


We picked our date, and headed over to Security Mall, near
Baltimore, Maryland.


 


Turns out, that mall is partially shut down, and the spa is
located in the nearly deserted part.


 


There were giant “going out of business” signs over the entrance,
the escalators weren’t running, and most of the lights weren’t
on.


 


Clearly, this is going to be “a cultural experience,” I said to
Yvette, as we made our way into the Korean spa.


 


We felt like we had been transported to another world. It had all
the calming smells and relaxing music you’d expect of a spa. So,
we scheduled our body treatments and headed back to the saunas.


 


They had a Himalayan salt room, jewel room, wood charcoal room,
terracotta room, and even a cold room to cool off in between. It
was nice, and very relaxing!


 


After a couple of hours of going back and forth between the
various saunas and the cold room, we grabbed a bite at the spa’s
Korean restaurant.


 


Stuff your face, and then go get a body treatment—great idea,
right?


 


We headed to the hot tub area, which is behind the women’s locker
room. To enter, you must remove clothing, and they request that
you sit in the hot tub for twenty minutes prior to the treatment.


 


A while later, two middle-aged Korean ladies escorted us to a
back area, where there were eight massage tables covered in
heavy-duty plastic.


 


We stood there staring at each other for a good sixty
seconds—they don’t know English and we don’t know Korean.


 


As I was trying to figure out where the sheets, face rest, and
bolster were, one of the ladies looked at me and commanded, as
she patted the table, “Sit.”


 


I sat.


 


“Lay down!”


 


I didn’t want to be rude, or offend her. So, I lay down. Then,
without warning, she took a bowl of hot water and threw it on me.


 


“Well, okay then,” I said, trying to make it clear just how
uncomfortable that was.


 


She doesn’t speak English.


 


She put another bowl of hot water on the table between my feet,
slipped on orange gloves, and started scrubbing my feet and legs
with what felt like…brillo pads.


 


That was when I realized I had NO—zero—zilch—nada—NONE…defenses.
Everything was wet. I couldn’t even grab ahold of anything. My
very full belly was hanging out, and I couldn’t even sweet-talk
her into being nice.


 


I was totally, and completely…defenseless!


 


And my manners would not allow me to jump up and run out of
there—that would be rude.


 


Besides, Yvette looked like she was enjoying this experience.


 


“She must have gotten the nice one!” I thought, reminding myself
that this was a cultural experience—I wasn’t dying!


 


Or maybe I was…of embarrassment.


 


My belly certainly didn’t need any more scrubbing! But of course,
I couldn’t tell her that.


 


Yvette broke the silence: “Do you see those pellets on your
table?”


 


I saw what looked like little pieces of tea.


 


“That’s your dead skin,” she said.


 


“And you couldn’t let me get through this experience before
telling me that?”


 


“Nope,” she said, clearly enjoying herself.


 


She must have gotten the nice one.


 


At about that time, my lady said, “Flip.”


 


In my mind, “flip” means “turn over.”


 


In mid-flip, she grabbed my leg and pulled, forcing me onto my
side.


 


My manners, once again, stopped me from blurting out, “That’s
‘side,’ lady, ‘side.’”


 


When she threw another bowl of hot water on me, it became
abundantly clear why I needed those layers of skin.


 


“A little burn isn’t going to kill you, Misti. Besides, remember,
you’re having a cultural experience,” I said to myself.


 


As she was scrubbing my arm, she suddenly dropped it. My arm
flopped on the table, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the
thought that this was a game for her. How hard can I get her arm
to hit the table?


 


The laughter released my tension, and I remembered that I knew
one phrase in Korean, “Kamsahamnida,” which means, “Thank you.”


 


“Kamsahamnida, Kamsahamnida, Kamsahamnida, Kamsahamnida,
Kamsahamnida,” I started repeating, hoping she’d see that I
really am a good person.


 


After I made it to the end of the torture—I mean body scrub—she
pointed to a sign: “Tips not included.”


 


I had some tips for her—sheets, pillows, a face rest, and
warnings—please!


 


Then it occurred to me that anyone with that job deserves a big
tip! So I hooked her up.


 


That evening, Yvette read a blogger’s post about her Korean spa
experience. “Koreans ‘relax hard.’ You’re like a fish being
scaled,” the blogger wrote.


 


You should try it. Really. Not because being scaled like a fish
is delightfully fun and relaxing—though some people have argued
with me about that. Try it—or your own version of it—because
you’ll have a chance to experience discomfort, on purpose.


 


If you want to reach new levels of success in your career, with
your team, or for a customer, you have to try something new.
Training in discomfort will help you build tolerance for it in
all areas of your life.


 


Feeling the feelings of discomfort at that spa—and not
dying—helped give me the courage to write posts like this, create
videos, and plan for a big event in 2016. Learning about your
body’s natural reaction to fear can actually make you less
afraid.