How to Negotiate Fearlessly by Being More Human, Not More Perfect with Mori Taheripour

Ashish Kothari:   Mori, welcome to the Happiness Squad podcast. I'm so delighted to have you here with us.

Mori Taheripour:   So happy to be here. Very excited about this.

Ashish Kothari:    Mori, you've had an amazing journey. You serve a fascinating range of organizations. You and I met when we were doing some work for USA Track and Field. You've served the NBA. You've served global not-for-profits. You teach. And over the years, your specialization has been negotiations. I'm curious—what led you to choose negotiations as an area of specialization?

Mori Taheripour:   I think negotiations chose me, to be honest. As you said, my background is kind of here, there, and everywhere—very diverse.

I started my career in public health. I was an entrepreneur. I went to business school. I had always had a passion and love for sports, but I was definitely in that place where I didn’t know what my next chapter was supposed to be. I didn’t think my life was written for me yet.

When I left business school—actually in my last semester—I took negotiations with my professor, who has since become not just a mentor, but a dear, dear friend. He was the one who said, “I think you should try teaching. I think you should try teaching negotiations. This is something you will be good at.”

Honestly, I didn’t know why he said that. To this day, I think we both try to take it apart and figure out how that came about. But it was a pivotal moment in my life. It was not preplanned. It was not intentional. I just sort of fell into it.

It’s funny because the first few years of teaching, I followed the rule book—“This is what you're supposed to say, this is what I'm supposed to deliver”—very strict syllabus. It wasn’t really enjoyable.

Through that time, I kept asking myself: Why negotiations? Why me? And when those answers became clear to me, I think I finally understood why I was teaching it and why that moment had arrived.

I did a lot of self-reflection. I looked back at the story of my life and at the moments when negotiations had played such a big role. I don't even know if I had categorized them as negotiations until that time of reflection. I realized that the decisions I made—the push and the pull, the pros and cons—those big “Should I? Should I not?” moments… Those were negotiations.

There were a lot of discussions with my family. And honestly, a lot of disappointment that I might have caused by not following the path they had chosen for me. The difficult conversations, the heartbreak, the challenges of even opening up and having the courage to speak up—those were negotiations that changed the course of my life.

Once I realized that, and I thought, “This is what I'm supposed to deliver—this is what negotiations really are,” everything changed. It’s all these life decisions and important conversations. It's not just transactions. It’s about the people involved in your own life journey.

That realization changed the way I taught. It made me truly passionate not just about the delivery, but about the impact. And I think that’s how it all came about, to be honest with you.

Ashish Kothari:     Can you share some of those pivotal moments in your life journey? I think there’s so much we could learn from those.

Mori Taheripour:    Yeah, I think, for example, when I decided that I didn’t want to go to med school. There were two parts to this. I made that decision earlier than I actually communicated it to my family. I just kept buying time. I started doing some work in public health and really started to understand that my passion was around helping people, but it wasn’t going to be through being a doctor.

I kept trying different things, and while I was working in public health, I thought, maybe this isn’t the path either. Maybe it’s business school—and who says I can’t marry the two? That’s when I finally had the conversation: “Hey, I’m picking business school, not med school.”

I remember the disappointment, the heartbreak, honestly, of the choices I was making. And the negotiation there was really—

Ashish Kothari:  Was this with your parents?

Mori Taheripour:     Yeah. Specifically. I told them, “I know this is the path you wanted for me. This is not the path I want for myself. I promise you this is right. This is how I feel. I’ve been blindly following this path, but it’s just not for me.”

We didn’t speak for a long time. It was a very strained relationship after that. And I think he carried that with him probably for the rest of his life—wondering what happened, why I was mad, why I changed my mind. But the truth is, that was a negotiation I had to win because it was my journey.

Ashish Kothari:  It almost feels like you either win that negotiation or you lose your life—because you end up living somebody else’s life, not your own. And there's so many who live that.

Mori Taheripour: Exactly. And there are so many people who live that. It's funny you say that because I don’t know if it was necessarily a loss for him. And this is weird to say, because I know he was disappointed. But as you grow up, you get older, and you start forgiving people for different things.

I think I forgave him because I finally understood it wasn’t that he was trying to coerce me into doing something. It was the depth of his love and care for me. He thought, “This is the right path. This is how she’ll make the best of herself and her life.”

When I realized that later on, it obviously made me feel a lot better about it. I finally told myself, that wasn’t a negotiation he lost. It was one where, once I understood his intention, it made me feel like—had I not gotten that notion of “we just want a life for you that is best”—I wouldn’t have adopted that mindset for myself.

And I realized: do something that is best for you.

Ashish Kothari:   I think it points to two things. First, when I asked if it was your parents—I grew up in India, and when we were growing up, there were only three things you could become: a doctor, an engineer, or a failure. That was it.

So I became an engineer. Five years after, I never actually worked as one. I went into software, then found my own path and ended up in business school. So I really relate to that.

In our world, so many people are living “outside-in” lives. They’re trying to become the best version of themselves based on somebody else’s belief. And often, even though that belief comes from love, it doesn’t serve us.

Sometimes, we don’t even know what would serve us best, so we blindly follow that path. Then we get into this sunk cost fallacy: “I’ve spent all this time—what else am I going to do?” So we just let momentum carry us.

Meanwhile, we’re walking through life dead inside, but we don’t have the courage to do something different.

What was the other negotiation in your life that shaped you—where you thought, “Wow, this is why this profession found me”?

Mori Taheripour: I would say maybe the dissolution of that first company I had. It’s funny because so many of these pivotal negotiations have been with myself, and that one took a long time. I had my company for about 13 years before it was dissolved. But honestly, it should have been dissolved way before that.

I was in a partnership with someone who had been my mentor—many years older than me. I followed this path where I was always looking to him for validation, for him to say, “Yeah, this is the right decision,” or “That was a really good idea.”

And when we didn’t agree on certain things, I kept internalizing this notion that I must be the one who’s wrong—because of the age difference, because of his experience. He had been my boss, so the power dynamic was very evident, and that was always my fallback position.

Post business school, I had already started teaching, and I think that experience helped me understand my own power—to stand in front of a classroom, have people listen to you, and feel like you’re an authority in something.

I didn’t even think about it until this very moment, but to have students look at me as though I was an authority in this subject, to know I had a command of a room, that my voice mattered to people—that gave me a certain level of confidence that I brought back into my business.

At some point, I thought: Wait a minute. Why is your fallback always that you’re wrong? Why can’t you believe you have power in this situation? I had brought in all the funding. The story could have been different, but I kept internalizing it as if I didn’t have a voice.

Eventually, I realized this was going to be a really painful dissolution. It would include taking on a horrendous amount of debt—but I needed the freedom. And once the pros outweighed the cons of ending that relationship, it became a moment of clarity.

That conversation wasn’t easy. There was a friendship that would end along with the business. And, again, the financial risks were real. But that negotiation felt like a lightbulb going off. As I spoke, the truth came out. And I realized the only validation I needed was my own.

Many people ask, “Do you call that a failure?” I don’t know. I think it might have been one of the wisest decisions I’ve ever made—alongside choosing a career path different from what was expected of me. But the shedding of those things, even as it happened in real time, felt really good. That was another pivotal moment for me.

Ashish Kothari:    Yeah, no, I think it’s beautiful. Any dissolutions are hard. I hear these stories all the time. People say, “I wish I had let somebody go earlier,” or “I wish I had shut this business down earlier. I knew it back then. But somehow, we prolong it.”

Because there’s a story around what it means for us—whether this is a failure and how others will judge. And, as you said, the only thing that matters is what we think and our own validation. I’m a big believer in Edison’s view: every failure is a learning opportunity—if you choose to make it so.

I want to get into your book and the beautiful guidance you offer around rising above conflict and taking perspective. But before that, there’s something you said that really resonated with me.

Negotiation is not something we just do in meetings. It’s something we do every day—in life and in business. One of the examples you gave was about life, the other about business.

So through your own life—beyond the teachings, research, and academic literature—what’s one shift you believe can help people improve how they navigate everyday negotiations? Not just the business ones, but the daily negotiations we all face in life. What advice would you give?

Mori Taheripour: I think the big shift is leading with curiosity. In business negotiations—whether it’s sales or any transactional negotiation—we often believe that preparation means you have to know everything, leave no stone unturned. That’s the advice we’re given, and it’s not wrong. Prepare, prepare, prepare.

But what happens is, with that mindset comes this idea that you can’t go in with questions. That there’s no room for curiosity or for learning something new before you’re certain about the decision you want to make.

When you lead with certainty, I think you naturally create blind spots. You can’t ever know everything—that’s just the truth. There’s always room to listen, to grow, to understand.

Preparation doesn’t mean certainty. It means being ready for a situation, knowing the important facts and details—including your own goals and what you want. But good preparation also means being open-minded. If something new comes up, you need to be ready to pivot, to adjust, without losing ground. Just understand how to fold that new information into what you already know and make space for it.

Otherwise, it’s like driving on a highway and missing your exit. What do you do? You don’t just keep going—you course correct. You turn around and follow the correct path.

That’s part of preparation: telling yourself, “Let me listen. Let me be curious.” Because maybe—just maybe—where you end up is even better than what you imagined. If you can turn curiosity into your mindset, a way of thinking, it changes everything. You might end up in a place far more favorable than you ever expected.

Ashish Kothari:  Yeah, I love that you highlighted curiosity. I really do. For the longest time, I lived in a world where I prided myself on being as prepared as possible. For 10 to 15 years in my professional career, I held onto this idea that perfection was the price you paid to be loved.

You want to do the right thing. You want to be perfect. You want to be prepared.

But over time, I realized you only control maybe 20 to 30 percent of what you think you control. You don’t even fully know yourself, let alone someone else. And most importantly, in a dynamic between me and you, there’s a “we”—a space that’s emerging.

If we get curious about what’s looking to emerge, something unexpected might show up. If we listen with an open heart, an open mind, and an open will, something better than what we originally planned for can arise.

Mori Taheripour:  Absolutely. Some people think that not knowing something—or admitting they don’t know—shows weakness. But really, it’s just saying, “I don’t know, but let me learn,” or “I don’t know, let me get back to you.”

That actually gives you more confidence and control. It’s not about pretending you’re more knowledgeable or self-assured. There’s a real strength that comes from that kind of vulnerability.

Ashish Kothari:   Absolutely. I think the strength that comes from that is you allow for something deeper. When you lower your Johari window—when you show the deeper needs, fears, emotions, beliefs that are shaping your perspective—and you’re willing to go there, you create space for the other person to do the same.

That vulnerability opens up more of the iceberg—more of what people are really solving for. I think we create space, otherwise, we’re just debating surface-level ideas.

Mori Taheripour:   Absolutely.

Ashish Kothari:    And yet, it’s so hard—but it’s crucial. That’s why preparation isn’t just about knowing facts. It’s about preparing ourselves to say, “I don’t know.”

Mori Taheripour:   Absolutely.

Ashish Kothari:   In your book Bring Yourself, there's a theme I really love—that negotiation is not just about competition. It’s not just about splitting the pie.

I’m curious to hear more about that and how your career shaped this view. Because a lot of negotiation experts just go down the path of splitting—win-lose thinking.

I think this topic is so relevant, especially when it comes to well-being and happiness. Many companies and employees are caught in a negotiation between performance and well-being. But the research shows, if you want performance, the path goes through well-being—not at the cost of it, at least not sustainably.

That’s why I’m curious about this theme in your work—that negotiation isn’t about competition. We’ve got to think differently. What are some life stories that helped shape this point of view? And how do you help others pivot toward a broader view of negotiation?

Mori Taheripour:    Yeah, I think that I've seen this play out in so many different aspects.

For example, through my teaching and working with people—even personally—I’ve come to understand how much people fear the word no. That tiny little two-letter word can feel explosive in terms of how we internalize it and what it means: personal rejection, closed doors, lack of opportunity, lack of advancement. It feels like there’s no moving forward when we hear it.

But through my work with students, and in class discussions, I’ve seen something powerful. When you take the power away from that word and stop allowing it to mean rejection or a closed door—and instead start thinking, “There’s got to be a way”—you shift the meaning. That’s where the idea of “when one door closes, another opens” truly comes to life. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t supposed to be the right path anyway.

Or, say you’re in sales and a client says no to something. That doesn’t necessarily mean they don’t want to work with you. It might just mean, “No, that option isn’t for us,” and the next part of that sentence could easily be, “But something else might work.”

If we start rethinking that word—not as the end, but as part of a conversation—we can begin to reshape the way we approach negotiations. Because if hearing no happens often enough, we can start going into every negotiation thinking it’s a competition. Win or lose. One side versus the other. No shared solution.

But if we shift our thinking and say, “I believe there’s got to be a way,” we open up possibilities. That mindset invites perseverance. It creates space for movement, flexibility, even creativity. It allows us to reimagine—and dare I say—have fun with the process. It cultivates shared thinking, innovation, and new ideas.

That word no, if seen through a negative lens, can stop growth, block innovation, create fear, and reinforce a mindset of scarcity. But when we move away from seeing negotiation as competition, and instead lean into a belief in abundance, everything changes.

It starts with believing that resources aren’t inherently scarce. That limitations are often self-imposed. If you limit your thinking, then opportunities become limited. But if you expand your thinking, opportunities expand with it.

We see this play out in labor talks and disputes. Two sides come in positioned on completely opposite ends of the spectrum. And yet, in reality, both sides need each other.

Ashish Kothari:   Absolutely.

Mori Taheripour:  And I understand the strategy—the positioning at the start to regain power, throw off the balance a little, gain some leverage. But at the end of the day, so much energy is spent fighting over peanuts—percentages here and there.

What are we missing in terms of opportunity by wasting time on the minutiae? What resources are we not exploring because we’re stuck fighting over something so small? That same energy could be used to create something powerful—through joint effort, exploration, and shared insight.

The opportunity is there. We’re just not daring to explore it because we’re too caught up in scarcity. So I think the bigger idea is about expansion. Letting go of the fear of scarcity. Believing in abundance. Knowing the opportunities are vast—we’re just not putting energy into discovering them.

Ashish Kothari:   As you said, Mori, when we hear no, we experience a psychological threat. What we came in to do suddenly isn’t going to happen, and our brain goes into fight, flight, or freeze mode. That’s where scarcity lives. It becomes an either-or. We think, “I should have known better.”

So, what are some ways you help people—whether they’re at the negotiation table or preparing outside of it—shift into that other space? That place where creativity and abundance sit? How do you help them get there?

Mori Taheripour:   The notion of abundance and scarcity comes from a place of faith. And I don’t necessarily mean religious faith—I mean a true belief, specifically in yourself. Fear and anxiety drive a scarcity mindset. They’re very much at the core of it.

So the first part of this journey is really about understanding your value—building self-confidence and belief. If that means going back and looking at your successes, if that means recognizing all the challenges and disruptions in your life that you’ve overcome, then so be it. Because none of those things, no matter how big, stopped you. You brought yourself to this point.

That’s what helps people start to see the power within themselves. That’s one of the biggest things—reminding yourself, especially during times like economic downturns or pandemics, when it’s easy to lose your sense of self. That inner work must be consistent.

The other part is how you conduct yourself as a human—especially in negotiations and interpersonal interactions. I always say, kindness is free. It doesn’t cost anything to treat people with respect.

If you show up to these conversations with dignity, empathy, and curiosity—if you truly see the person across from you, listen, and understand them—then even if the negotiation doesn’t result in a deal, they will feel good about the interaction.

And because of that, when you go back to them later and say, “Can we explore some other options in a few months?” they’re likely to say yes. The experience with you was positive, and that leaves a door open.

I always tell my students: leave that impression. Leave the kind of impact that makes the door feel like it’s never closed. If someone enjoys the experience of engaging with you, they’re much more likely to revisit the conversation.

But if you don’t treat them that way—if the interaction feels transactional, strained, or competitive—then when you try to revisit it, the response is likely to be, “No, we already said it doesn’t work.” It’s human nature.

People have options. Clients have choices. And we have to respect that. So the question becomes: how do you create the kind of space where it doesn’t end in “No, this doesn’t work. That’s it,” but there’s consistent ability to come back and create another conversation and another opportunity around it?

Ashish Kothari:  Yeah, I love that. And this notion of—I think it's creating space externally—almost requires us to create space internally, right?

We have to kind of downregulate our own nervous system to where we’re not in control of the limbic—seeing the world from a place of scarcity and fear—and recognizing, I love your notion of, from that place, grounding ourselves in self-efficacy: “You are enough. You’ve traveled this before, and you will going forward.”

Even if—very rarely—but even if this one doesn’t work out, let’s say it is a dead end, that’s okay. Life... you’re still alive. That means there will be more opportunities.

And we, in our mind, catastrophize more. I don’t know if you and I ever talked about this, Mori, but I don’t know if you knew this about me—but before I started doing the work I was doing around happiness and flourishing, for 12 years at McKinsey, I was in the procurement practice. So I spent 12 years helping clients negotiate deals.

And even from that point—believe it or not—I was never, I’ve never been about the money. And so I’ve never had that—so even within the firm, I shifted very quickly from supplier negotiations to supplier collaboration. Because I fundamentally believed that there was actually more here.

And if all we talk about is price, and maybe a little bit of payment terms, I think we’re leaving an opportunity out there for so much more that we can do as companies—but more importantly, so much more that we can do as two humans. Because after all, the two people who are sitting are way more than the roles they play in the companies.

These relationships go years. And in fact, I have to share with you and our listeners—one of my closest friendships and long-standing client relationships actually came from a place where Christie was the head of procurement. And I was at McKinsey. I was a partner. We were about to do a big IT transformation.

The head of IT had never told procurement that we were going to do this major thing together. And so all of a sudden, when the CFO found out, they basically said to procurement, “Stop it. Or figure this out. Why have we not been involved in it?” And so—contentious, right? You can imagine.

And yet, it became a source of unbelievable... we got so close together. And we created something from the same side of the table, versus from opposite sides.

Mori Taheripour: Right.

Ashish Kothari: And I can see so many of these aspects that you highlighted that were key in that.

We were curious where the other person was coming from, rather than just assuming, “You’re just here to do a deal and kind of bypass me.” The self-efficacy—she had done many of these. We had moved through many of them. So we knew we would be able to resolve and create something.

We listened a lot. There was a lot of element of kindness. I mean, this was hard. We had basically 24 hours to get this thing done. So, so many of these were present. And so I love that. I love those lessons that you shared in life around how to navigate this.

Mori Taheripour:  Yeah. And there's one more thing.

Just yesterday, I was teaching a group of entrepreneurs, and one of the entrepreneurs in the room is now in a very male-dominated industry—a business she’s decided to take over. It’s an industry she knows very little about.

She raised her hand and said, “My fear is that I know very little about this business. I’ve never done this before. I know nothing about this industry. It scares me all the time. Who am I to be doing this? I wasn’t trained for this.”

I asked her if she had kids, and she said yes.

I asked, “Do you consider yourself a good mom?”

She said, “I do.”

I asked, “Did you take classes in being a mom before you became a mom? Did you know how to be a mom before you became one?”

She said, “No.”

And I said, “And yet you just told me you’re a really good mother.”

She just stopped.

I said, “There are so many things in life we were never—well, that’s the whole point of this, right? You learn. You grow. That may have been the biggest challenge of them all. And here you are, thinking you’ve succeeded at something you had no preparation for.”

In motherhood, in parenthood, it’s all about learning through countless moments. And I told her, “These are all learned skills. You’ve taken on yet another challenge—and I promise you, it’s probably going to be easier than the one you’ve already mastered and succeeded in.”

It was a powerful moment. I feel like we don’t give ourselves enough credit. That’s part of growth. That’s part of not counting yourself out. It’s about betting on yourself—always.

But part of that also comes from not thinking that you have to know everything. It’s about understanding that all those experiences you’ve had—where you’ve picked up new skills, where you’ve grown past a challenge or a roadblock—those things are transferable.

We have to understand that. And we have to remind ourselves of that all the time.

Ashish Kothari:  Absolutely.

I want to shift to something you’ve mentioned a couple of times in this episode, and it’s something that shows up consistently: if we want to connect, we have to first connect with ourselves.

Self-awareness.

We have to know ourselves. That’s critical no matter what you do—whether you're a leader, a mother, a parent, or negotiating. Whatever it is, self-awareness is at the heart of it.

There’s a reason self-awareness shows up in both our frameworks around organizational and individual flourishing. In the work that you do—your teaching and coaching of leaders—what are some practical ways you suggest leaders become more self-aware?

Mori Taheripour:   I think that one of the first—and maybe one of the more difficult things in this day and age—is mindfulness. Stillness.

In a world where we’re consuming information at light speed on a regular basis, so many of us don’t even have the ability to create boundaries—with others, much less ourselves. The ability to say, “I’m going to carve out space,” whether that’s quiet time, going for a walk, or simply getting some oxygen to the brain to think and reflect.

People need to first understand the very dangerous place we’re in, where constant consumption of information disallows stillness and quiet space. Every good leader—every person, really—needs to take accountability for that. Know when to shut off the devices. Understand that if you’re constantly busy, always answering messages, responding to crises, checking your phone, emails, and so on—where’s the space?

Stillness shouldn’t only exist when you go to sleep. During the course of your day, there has to be a moment to pause and reflect. That’s really important.

Why is that important? Because as we look at how leadership has evolved—what leadership used to be versus what it is now—we’ve moved from valuing certainty, power, and conviction to valuing authenticity and vulnerability. Those are the traits people are drawn to now. That’s what humanizes a leader.

And if you’re not self-aware, how can you be authentic? Who are you?

This self-journey and understanding is vital. Creating that space, allowing for self-reflection, embracing vulnerability—those are the foundations. And yes, you may not like what you see at first. But when that happens, there’s work to do. There are people you can go to. There are support systems. You may find there are mental health issues that need attention. You may realize you’re experiencing burnout.

People often ask, “How do you not know you’re burnt out?” Well, it’s because we’re going at record speed—and it’s constant. That’s why taking time to reflect is so important.

I know one of the things you wanted to touch on was the notion of perfectionism. That really fits into this space—especially when we compare it to the pursuit of excellence.

As you and I both know, perfectionism is impossible.

Through self-reflection, you may discover there’s work to do. Vulnerability doesn’t coexist with perfectionism—because perfectionism hides the cracks. You don’t want people to see the vulnerable parts. But if you shift your thinking and see self-reflection and stillness as tools to help you pursue a life of excellence—that changes everything.

Excellence comes from wanting self-growth, wanting self-improvement, wanting to learn, and being committed to development. That pursuit is rooted in compassion for yourself.

So, I’m not saying, “Reflect so you can become perfect.” I’m saying, “Reflect so you can recognize the cracks, so you can grow, and pursue the best version of yourself—a life of excellence.”

All of these ideas are connected. There is no such thing as a perfect leader anymore. And I don’t think people want that.

Ashish Kothari:  I’m with you.

In fact, I’d say not only is there no such thing as a perfect leader—there’s no such thing as perfection. If you look at nature, trees aren’t symmetrical. Mountains don’t come in perfect shapes. And yet we accept that. That’s what makes them beautiful.

Imperfection is perfection.

The only time you can say, “Now I’m perfect,” is when you can no longer change. And the only time you can no longer change is when you’re dead. Otherwise, you’re growing. Which means you’re either improving or declining—hopefully improving.

And if that’s true, then yesterday’s perfection isn’t today’s perfection.

Mori Taheripour: Exactly.

Ashish Kothari: So you're better today—hopefully—than yesterday, not worse. Again, this idea of perfection in imperfection—we have to embrace that.

I also love what you said about awareness. That was a big one for me. When we find stillness—those moments every day, not just when we're on holiday or exhausted—we can really start to look into where some of those beliefs were sown. Why do we act in certain ways? Why do we see the world the way we do?

We often say this on the podcast: you see the world as you are, not as the world is. And the way we see the world isn’t something we’re born with—it’s something we pick up.

“You can only be a doctor, engineer, or a failure” is a belief someone picks up along the way. Or perfectionism. I picked that up when I was seven years old, Maury. I got a 97 out of 100 on a test, and my mom told me, “You could’ve gotten a hundred if you wanted. Why did you get a 97?”

She’s always been very loving—it’s always been a big thing for me—but that set off a pattern. And that’s where awareness helped. A coach helped me break out of that.

For me, nothing but perfection mattered. I was never happy with what I did. I pushed people really hard. And at one point, I was working with a coach, telling him, “I don’t know what’s wrong these days. Nobody seems to care about quality. It’s like they just don’t put in enough effort.” I was clearly frustrated.

And he asked me, “Ashish, is there anybody whose work meets your bar? Someone you look up to—someone you’ve worked with—where you think, ‘Their work is really, really good’?”

And I honestly thought about it, and I said, “No one.”

And he said, “Do you think the problem is with the world—or with you?”

That moment of awareness—it was like, oh my God. I’m driving myself and everybody else crazy because of my own belief and the story I’ve been telling myself. That realization freed me.

Mori Taheripour: Yeah.

Ashish Kothari: It brought in this other element of curiosity. I started asking, “Hey Maury, what do you think is required here to deliver and satisfy the client?” And then I started asking clients, “What do you want?” instead of thinking I needed to know the answer.

Before, I would’ve thought, “They’re paying me all this money, I should know.” But it saved me. We were in the middle of COVID. A senior client and I were in a boardroom, and he said, “Well, you’re the experts—what do you think?”

And because I’d done this inner work, I was able to joke and say, “I don’t know. This is the first time I’m going through a pandemic. I’m as much of an expert as you are.”

Mori Taheripour: Right.

Ashish Kothari: It brought a level of levity into the room and helped everyone recognize—we all didn’t know. We were just trying to figure it out.

Mori Taheripour:  Exactly. Again, people don’t want to be that vulnerable, but...

Ashish Kothari:  “I don’t know” is the most powerful thing you can say in some situations.

Mori Taheripour:  And it's human.

Ashish Kothari: Yes.

Mori Taheripour:  We are just that—we are human. And like you said, there’s beauty in imperfection.

Easier said than done.

Ashish Kothari:  Easier said than done.

So, equally important in any negotiation—or really in life, in any conflict—is knowing ourselves. But the second part is being able to take perspective. To be able to consider where others might be coming from, or even what the other possibilities could be.

And Mori, you talk a lot about that. What are some of the ways we can learn to take two or three different perspectives?

Mori Taheripour:   Yeah, I think that when we’re in conflict, it’s usually because we’re wedded to something. Or there’s a tremendous amount of emotionality. We take things very personally.

We dig in, and there’s no natural tendency to pause or take a break. That doesn’t come easily. If you’re not aware, you just dig in even more. And we want to be right. We want to prove that our point, our perspective, is the correct one. Our ego gets embedded in that.

But oftentimes, neither side is completely right. What we’ve committed ourselves to is the belief that there’s only one way to get to the outcome—the path. You may not even disagree on the destination. What you’re actually disagreeing about is how to get there.

Couples go through this. Married couples go through this a lot. This happens in work environments. It happens in government—we see it all the time. People disagree.

Hard conversations aren’t the problem. And conflict is natural. If we didn’t care, there wouldn’t be conflict. If we were apathetic or just checked out, there wouldn’t be hard conversations because it wouldn’t matter.

But when it matters, it becomes personal. It means something to you. So how do you navigate that? It goes back to curiosity. That may be our theme today, Ashish. It’s not “my way or the highway,” but rather, “What am I missing? What are we missing? What am I not seeing?” as opposed to “I see it all. I know it all.”

And to even begin to do that, you have to create distance. Maybe that’s saying, “Let’s take a break. Let’s come back later—today, tomorrow, next week. We need clarity around this.”

Sometimes it just means stepping outside, getting some fresh air, taking a deep breath. People underestimate the power of breathing. Oxygen to the brain—it's simple, but powerful.

That distance gives you the space to have a different kind of conversation with yourself: “We must be missing something. What is it that I’m not getting? Am I reacting to something I shouldn’t be? Am I misinterpreting them—or are they misinterpreting me? Do they understand my intentions?”

In negotiations, William Ury—one of the authors of Getting to Yes—calls it “going to the balcony.” It means rising above the situation for a moment. Not in a moral superiority kind of way, but just to get a different vantage point, to look at what’s happening like a playwright watching a scene.

What’s going on here? What can we change? What can we insert? What can we redo? What can we approach differently? Clarity comes from space, and space allows you to gain perspective. These aren’t hard things. I always say, lean into hard conversations. They’re necessary. They’re part of growth.

I’d worry about couples who say, “We never fight. We never disagree.” Because I’d wonder, are you really ready for the one that finally happens? That may be a really hard one.

Conflict is part of life. It’s part of growth. It’s part of the conversation. Embrace it—but know that perspective is essential when you’re in a clash. Maybe there’s a resolution. Maybe there isn’t. But most often, it comes from gaining perspective.

Ashish Kothari:  I love both of those moves you mentioned, Mori.

First: go to the balcony. Get yourself off the dance floor so you can actually see the whole system, what’s happening, and what you’re caught in.

Second: that powerful question—“What are we missing?”

Another version of that question that comes to mind for me is: “How might I be wrong?” Or, “How might we be wrong?” Maybe there’s something they’re seeing that I’m not. Or maybe there’s a story I’m telling myself. And sometimes we don’t want to share that story because we think we’ll lose power.

But maybe, sharing that story—“Here’s what I’m telling myself, does that make sense?”—might invite a different response from the other person.

Mori Taheripour:    Yeah. And understanding somebody’s why—why are they saying what they’re saying? What’s the reason behind it?

When you finally understand that—what’s driving them to this decision, what’s making them behave this way—that level of empathy can lead to forgiveness, compassion, and the opening of minds and hearts. It creates a better understanding of each other.

People get wedded to decisions because of their life experiences and how they’ve internalized things. Once you understand that, you can understand their reasoning—and their intentions. So yes, all of those things are important. And again, here we go: easier said than done.

Ashish Kothari:   This is why it’s so important to keep reminding ourselves of these things.

I want to touch on one last thing, Maury, before we close. You said something that really stuck with me, and you write about it in your book.

Talk to me about what you mean when you say: One of the biggest barriers to authenticity is perfectionism. That perfectionism keeps us from being authentic.

Mori Taheripour:    Yeah, I mean, I think we just touched on it a little bit.

In the age of scrolling through Instagram, everyone’s life seems so perfect—the perfect beach, the perfect vacation, the perfect body on the perfect beach during the perfect vacation.

Very rarely do we see people showing vulnerability. And honestly, that’s why I think platforms like TikTok—though not that Instagram can’t do this—have become so interesting to me. Because it’s so real.

I’ll see something and think, “Really? They shared that?” And you see people crying, having breakdowns, sharing deep, raw parts of themselves. It’s the furthest thing from perfection. And a lot of those people have enormous followings. There’s a draw in that.

It’s funny—my trainer always puts up these reels, and one of them I loved. It was so well-produced, beautifully done. But he told me those are the ones that get fewer likes. He said, “People don’t want to see something heavily produced. They want to see vulnerability. Realness. The cracks.”

That perfection—which doesn’t exist, which is nearly impossible—makes authenticity impossible. Because that version of yourself? It’s not you. It’s a production. It’s a movie. A snippet. A moment.

The authenticity of you—the authenticity of me—has so many different elements.

It’s the daughter who fears her mother’s dementia.

It’s the sister who wants to protect her sibling from the challenges she faces.

It’s the woman who fears for her own health and well-being when she makes no space to care for herself.

It’s the aunt who worries about her nephews’ future in this world.

It’s the teacher who, in front of students, feels powerful and vulnerable all at once—and finds so much joy in those moments.

All of these things combined... that’s the authentic Mori.

I don’t know a perfect Mori. Because none of those pillars I just mentioned exist without my imperfection. And there’s beauty in that. There’s a lot of power in that.

Heavily producing yourself to show up in the world as a perfect person is not only impossible—it will leave you heartbroken because it’s not achievable.

Ashish Kothari:    Yeah. And this notion of just knowing yourself and loving yourself for the imperfect work-in-progress that you are… that’s powerful.

The fact that you woke up today—many people didn’t.

Mori Taheripour: Right.

Ashish Kothari: And if you woke up, you have a choice. You have agency. You can work on yourself. You can work for the betterment of others.

That choice can be a guiding light. Earning back that choice and moving forward... that’s what it’s about.

Look, Mori, we could talk for hours. Thank you for all the amazing work that you do. I think, more than ever, in a world that’s becoming more isolationist, where we’re losing the ability to take perspective… we’re living these almost inauthentic, perfectly curated, but very lonely, broken internal lives.

Your book, your work—it’s so powerful. I’m really grateful that you took the time to share your wisdom and your life journey with us and our listeners. Thank you.

Mori Taheripour:  Thank you. I appreciate it.

This was just what I needed. It was a pleasure. Like I said, the work you do—this notion of happiness—we don’t give it enough time and attention. And we don’t pursue it with intention. It seems like a “nice to have,” but it’s so necessary. So thank you for your work.

Ashish Kothari:  No, thank you, my friend. That’s why I do what I do. This is my second mountain.

In a world that’s becoming increasingly volatile, uncertain, and complex, the only certainty we have is the mastery of our inner world—cultivating calm, love, and joy. So we can face all the imperfections out there without feeling paralyzed or asking, “How do we move forward?”

Mori Taheripour:  Absolutely.