I’ve become accustomed to the start of most leadership conferences. There tends to be some music, a welcome message from the hosts, a video or skit, and some remarks from an advisor. The theme and purpose of the event is always set up and some logistics are covered.

At yesterday’s event, Todd Burlingham, Coordinator of Student Leadership Services (MASC/MAHS), phrased a now common announcement in a manner I really liked. He had to do the standard “turn off your cell phones” message, but he said, “let’s disconnect to connect.”

I loved the phrase. Sadly, it’s quite true. Regardless of the audience, location, or event purpose, I’m always blown away that several attendees are still attached to their cell phones. While many are quite attentive during sessions, they use that valuable free time (in which they could connect with other attendees, build their network, and share insights) to check their facebook or text a boyfriend/girlfriend back home.

I sadly have to be reminded about this too. My good friends Tom & Rachel have implemented a “no cell phone” rule whenever I hang out with them. I’ve realized (especially with their poignant reminders) that through my alone traveling time, I’ve developed an incredible addiction to my facebook, email, and text messages. They fill the time when I travel. Sadly, that sometimes means I take out my iphone when I’m with friends. In doing this, I know I send the nonverbal message that facebook, an email, or a text message is more important than the people with whom I’m currently visiting.

That, of course, is the opposite of what I want to do. But I know that many of us are guilty of it at times.

Sure there are times where we need to make a call back home or send a quick facebook message or email. Since I’m gone so much, I do need to spend some time nourishing relationships while I’m away so that they can still thrive. Still, if the nourishment of those relationships prevent me from truly serving the people I’m with or growing and developing as a person because I’m constantly distracted, than I’m just going through the motions and not reaching my potential.

So I’m going to try to be better about this in 2011. If you see me at a conference, playing on my iPhone for more than just a moment, call me out on it. Ask your friends to do the same for you.

Our connections are incredibly important, but perhaps at times we need to “disconnect to connect.”

“Hello…”

He caught me by surprised. I hadn’t expected any conversation, but he continued.

“…where are you going?”

“Atlanta. What about you?”

“I’m going to Canada.”

“I was just there… near the Olympics”

“I saw that. Your sweatshirt says Canada. I LOVE the Olympics…”

For the next few minutes he told me about everything he liked about the Olympics including a special section all about he mascots. When it came time to leave, his parents smiled, and he said goodbye.

“Have fun in Canada.” I said to him during his departure.

“Probably not,” he replied, “it’s going to snow.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

I’ve been really lucky in my past few trips with incredibly nice and outgoing people on my flights. That trip to Atlanta included a really pleasant conversation with a retiree from outside Winnipeg who was returning with his wife to see their newest Grandchild. On my return from Vancouver a few days prior, I visited with an incredibly nice woman from norther British Columbia who spent several months of the year near me in Phoenix. Even in security, I ended up chatting with a group of people who gave me tips on upcoming vacation plans. It’s been quite nice.

I’m normally not this outgoing. I know, that seems odd if you regularly hang out with me, but when I travel, I tend to utilize the quiet time. I read a lot. I watch DVDs. I sleep. On most occasions, I don’t talk with those around me, but I’ve been open to this possibility a bit more recently.

While at the Olympics, I had two brothers come up to me during an afternoon trip to the Irish House and simply say, “Hello.” We got to talking. After a few minutes, they explained that their brother lives in America, that they were bummed that he couldn’t be at the Olympics with them, and that since I was by myself that afternoon, they’d love for me to join them for a bit if I wanted. Normally, I’d be opposed to the idea, letting my fear of stranger danger prevent any further contact, but I figured it was worth the experience. They ended up treating me to a meal and introducing me to a bunch of their friends. Everyone was so kind.

At the end, one of the brothers left his Canadian touque (hat) on the bench. I tossed it to him, and he tossed it back.

“I want you to have it.”

I tried to give it back, but he insisted.

“You’re a cool guy. We’ve enjoyed meeting you. I know it’s the Olympics and we’re suppose to be in competition at times since you’re American, but I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you. I want you to keep the touque and remember people getting along. Remember Canada and remember this Olympic spirit.”

It was such a nice thought. The brothers extended great kindness to me, a stranger. We visited for less than two hours in total, but the interaction was great. They shared a bit about their lives, and I shared a bit about mine.

I wish we all could do this a bit more. Perhaps that is why I’ve been open to meeting new people a bit more.

After all, the whole thing began with a simple, “Hello.”