I’d like to be known for more than being the guy in the big suit. —David Byrne

In the mid-80s, my older brother Jerry had a whole swarm of his college friends over to our house.  At the same time, I had a whole swarm of my high school friends over to our house.  Clearly, my parents MUST have been on a rare trip out of town.  It was the perfect storm. Time for a John Hughes-esque party for the ages!

My friends and I were beyond impressed with the older group of Duke revelers.  They let us join in their games.  They introduced us to upside-down margarita shots (a game-changer).  And they proved that a bunch of “old guys” could still get after it and have a blast!  As the night reached a crescendo, my brother unleased the “Stop Making Sense” album (yes, on the record player!) at full tilt.  His friends chanted back and forth, put on sunglasses, and belted the lyrics for “Psycho Killer” in perfect unison.  And while it was a talented display of choreography and cacophony, my friends and I were not inspired by the choice of music.

At the time, David Byrne, lead singer of the band “The Talking Heads”, had just released the iconic “Stop Making Sense” film, accompanied by the album.  While the image of Byrne jumping around in an over-sized suit was sweeping the nation, I thought he was weird and awkward and silently booed as the music played.  What were these guys thinking? It was the only stain on the reputation of the older crew that evening.

Fast forward to last Saturday.  My wife and I got back from a gathering and flipped through the channels.  The “Stop Making Sense” documentary came on, and we couldn’t take our eyes of the screen as Byrne burst across the stage with infectious energy and pure joy.  We had both grown to love his music over time, and this performance demonstrated his true genius.  I thought back to that night in he mid-80s and the way I had too quickly judged the quirky histrionics of Byrne and and his band. I didn’t reserve judgement or try to see another perspective.

And don’t we all have to guard against that in our everyday lives?

We Need to Step Back With Perspective
In our work lives, we stew about the manager who appears aloof or disengaged.  But perhaps they are processing deeply or juggling a personal challenge we can’t see.  We bristle at the boss who comes down hard on us.  But perhaps that is exactly what we need in the moment and we can’t see it at the time.  We seethe at the colleague who appears arrogant in their approach to problem-solving.  But perhaps their method comes from a different set of experiences that could actually teach us something.  Not everything is at seems in the moment.  Not all actions can be judged in a vacuum.  There is always further context to every experience.  And sometimes the prism of time can shift how we view our feelings in the moment.
And the same is true in our personal lives.  What seems like a negative may be designed to help and inspire us.  The punishment from a parent may ensure we never make that mistake again.  The admonishment from a coach may motivate us to a greater athletic plane.  The intervention from friends may set us back on a righteous path.  It may feel as though everyone is against us in real time.  But we have to occasionally step back and assume good intentions.  Perhaps we need some tough love.  Perhaps what feels harsh is coming from a place of love.  Not everything is as it seems.  We need to reserve judgement until the string plays out.
Right From the Beginning
Reserving judgment doesn’t mean abandoning discernment; it means pausing long enough to ask, “What else could be true?”  That simple question opens the door to empathy, understanding, and sometimes—even admiration.  Things can look quite different in the rear view mirror with time and perspective.

David Byrne was quirky and and artistic and a little out there. But what initially looks “odd” to us might be authentic expression—and could even inspire us if we let it.  Because sometimes, what looks like chaos is actually choreography. And what sounds like noise? It might just be genius.

It turns out my brother Jerry and his friends were right from the beginning.  Like David Byrne in that oversized suit, making perfect sense all along.