Tag Archives: conversation

Open for conversation

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My old, Pair-a-Dimes for Your Thoughts, blog has some amazing comments on it. There were posts that would get 15-25 comments that would continue the conversation. There were bloggers who would blog response posts to yet further the conversation. Now my blog is just one of several places people see my posts.

I usually share the whole post (unless I hit the size limit) on LinkedIn, and I share excerpts on Facebook, as well as links on other socials, and these open the links in their apps, to keep you on the app. And so the majority of comments now are scattered across the internet rather than sitting under my blog.

What I miss about the ‘old times’ is that these comments and conversations added a lot of value to what was said. They still do, but they aren’t archived together and so they tend to be one-offs rather than full conversations. Still, I enjoy getting them, and love it when someone contributes something that really adds to what I say… contributes something of value, that enriches (or challenges) my thinking.

Manual Are posted a gem of a response to my post yesterday. I wrote a very short post, a rant really, about doors being locked when a store is open. Then on LinkedIn, Manuel responded with a beautiful poem that first of all probably took him a lot longer to write than I spent on my post. And secondly, captured my message better than I was able to express it. So here it is… (with permission and thanks to Manuel):

The Locked Door

I reached the store with eager stride,
A gentle pull, but locked inside.
The sign said “open,” yet it stayed,
This door that blocked the path I made.

I tried again, a second time,
But still the latch refused to climb.
A simple thing, an easy task—
To open wide is all I ask.

Doesn’t it speak to what’s in store,
This stubborn, unwelcoming door?
The message sent, though small it seems,
Can shatter trust and spoil dreams.

For what’s a shop that keeps me out?
It stirs up doubt, it breeds some doubt.
If I am here, then let me through,
And show me care in what you do.

Unlock the door, let me inside,
A gesture small, but full of pride.
For in that act, you say to me:
You’re welcome here, come in and see.

The smallest thing can set the tone—
To feel at ease, to feel at home.
So if you open, heed this plea,
Unlock the door, and welcome me.”

~Manuel Are

Rhyme (and) reason

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Sometimes something happens without rhyme or reason, with no logical reason for it to happen. Other times it is abundantly clear… to some people but not to others. So while an observer can see and make connections between events or experiences, the person in the situation believes there is no rhyme or reason, no connections at all. I witnessed this first hand in a conversation recently.

I was talking to someone who was very upset with the behaviors of another person. Why couldn’t this other person understand how to help themselves? Why did this other person not do what needed to be done? There was much frustration because this other person wouldn’t respond well to feedback. Then the person I was talking to shared a personal struggle, and it was abundantly clear to me that the rhyme and reason for their struggle was identical for them as it was for this other person. The situation was completely different, but the points of struggle were the same.

Isn’t that fascinating how we can see and be frustrated with the challenges we see others struggle with, and yet be blind to how we struggle in similar way? Simultaneously asking ‘Why can’t this other person see what needs to be done’, while being oblivious to the fact that we struggle in the same way in other areas of our own lives. Maybe I’m being unfair in saying they are oblivious? Maybe the frustration they see in themselves is precisely why there is frustration in the other person.

‘I hate seeing this other person struggle, because in this other person I see the thing I least like about myself.’

I saw the rhyme and reason. But that doesn’t mean I handled it well. On the contrary, and upon reflection, I could have navigated the conversation much better. I realize this only after the fact. The person I was talking to knew the other person wouldn’t respond well to feedback because they knew they wouldn’t. When I saw the connection, the parallel relationship, I should have realized the it was the wrong time for me to offer feedback. It wouldn’t be well received… it wasn’t well received. The pattern was there for me to see, but I missed it.

We don’t always see the rhyme and reason for why we do what we do. But maybe it’s easier to see this in other people… maybe we project our own insecurities and frustrations on others because we struggle ourselves. The very reason it bugs us in others is because it bugs us in us. But even knowing this, it hurts to hear it.

Conversation hog

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I had a conversation yesterday and upon reflecting on it I was a bit of a conversation hog. What made me realize this was that I asked a question and upon hearing the initial response, I immediately shared my similar experience. However in doing so, the conversation never got to the person fully answering my question.

I basically jumped in with a related story and took over the conversation. This undermined my initial question and the whole conversation. It’s not like I was rude, but I also wasn’t very polite. Why ask a question if I’m more interested in my own response rather than the person’s I’m asking?

Unfortunately I didn’t recognize this until after the conversation was over, and we had parted ways. Still, this was an excellent reminder that after I ask a question, the need to shut up and listen. I need to engage with the person I’m with in a way that is fully focused on hearing, and less on relating and sharing my own connections, especially when I’m asking for their story. That isn’t to say I can’t make a connection later, but the key word there is ‘later’.

Listen first. Seek to understand. Engage in their story, and when their story has been shared, only then should I consider interjecting my own story, and only if it adds value to the conversation.

Listen first.

Basic assumptions

I was talking to a friend last night and we came to a conclusion about the way things have changed in the last few years. Our conversation was mostly about global power struggles and concerns for how certain global hotspots are really just proxy wars of superpowers so that they don’t have to fight directly. But we also talked about basic relationships between people, and how we relate to one another.

A conclusion we came to is that people no longer give each other the benefit of the doubt that intentions are good. This used to be a basic assumption we operated on, the premise that we can start with the belief that everyone is acting in good faith.

That used to be a good starting place: “Everyone here has positive intentions, now let’s look at where we agree and disagree.” But that isn’t what we see now. Instead it is about winning, making gains, counter arguments, and public attacks and shaming. The starting point is to believe the other side is acting in bad faith.

That dissolves the ability to come to a mutually agreeable conclusion. Before a negotiation or even a conversation starts, the premise is that the outcome won’t be good… that the injury is too deep, the conclusions won’t be mutually acceptable. High expectations, low compromise, and ultimately unsatisfactory outcomes.

A basic assumption of good faith won’t fix all the challenges we see in the world today, but it would be a better place to start. We don’t get very far when conflict usurps conversation and intransigence trumps compromise. There is a difference between wanting a good outcome and wanting to win, desiring conversation and choosing to start with an argument.

Maybe it’s just nostalgia that makes me think we ever had a different starting point, but I believe we have become less tolerant and more reactionary, and that people don’t start with basic positive assumptions anymore.

My miscommunication

I really try to live by the mantra, ‘The meaning of your communication is the response you get’. It puts the burden of my clear communication solely on me. When someone misunderstands or misinterprets my communication, it’s not their fault, it’s mine… I could have been more clear, more concise, more thoughtful.

I had a written conversation with a colleague recently that didn’t go as I had planned. When I saw the misunderstanding, I tried to explain. But I came from a defensive stance about what I really meant. I didn’t think about what their response really meant. I worried too much about clarifying and not enough about understanding.

“This is what I meant to say,” does not repair what was said and interpreted incorrectly. Not usually. In a way it’s doubling down, it’s saying, “You were wrong in your interpretation.” It’s not saying, “I messed up in my communication.”

It’s a minor shift, simple to see after the fact, but delicately difficult to communicate in a response to what was clearly my poor communication. I didn’t get the response I wanted, thus I didn’t communicate well. If that’s my premise, then what I need to do is listen to their response, and communicate about that, not what I meant to say.

It’s a subtle shift. Not an easy one, but an important one.

Dinner with the dead

A question Tim Ferris used to regularly ask his podcast guests was, “If you could have dinner with one person, dead or alive, who would it be and why?” 

Well now it might be a bit easier to have one of those dinner conversations… even if the person is dead.

Here’s a conversation on AI and education between Bill Gates and Socrates, but first the description of the video:

AI Brings Bill Gates & Socrates Together: A Must-Watch Dialogue on AI. An exclusive video of Bill Gates and ancient philosopher Socrates discussing the potential of artificial intelligence. Don’t miss this groundbreaking fusion of past wisdom and present innovation, reshaping our understanding of AI.

In this video, you will witness a fascinating discussion between Socrates, the Greek philosopher considered one of the greatest thinkers in history, and Bill Gates, the American entrepreneur and founder of Microsoft, one of the most important companies in the world of technology.

Despite belonging to different eras, Socrates and Gates have a lot in common. Both are considered pioneers in their respective fields and have had a significant impact on society.

The AI-generated conversation will allow these two great figures to discuss topics such as technology, ethics, education, and much more. Will Socrates and Bill Gates be able to find common ground in their ideas and thoughts? Find out in this video!

https://youtu.be/hJ5qN9PRmFc

It didn’t need the laugh track, and there is a slight cartoonish feel to the two characters, but this technology is just getting better and better!

The shallows vs the deep

When you meet some people, you instantly like them. They are friendly, personable, and genuine. Some people take a while to grow on you. There isn’t that quick assessment, and you need time to figure them out and have them figure you out. They can easily be as genuine as the people you like instantly, but you don’t immediately know.

Then there are the ones you instantly dislike or mistrust. There are those that seek to complain, and are quick to annoy you or to be easily annoyed themselves.

Isn’t interesting how much time and thought we spend on these different kinds of people? Those that have a depth of quality, we appreciate and want to know, but we don’t necessarily think or talk about them when they aren’t around. But those that annoy and frustrate us consume more of our thought and attention than they deserve.

We spend too much time focused in on the shallow end of this continuum and not enough time going deep with those that deserve more of our attention. We play and replay scenarios dealing with shallow people instead of doing the work to let go of petty things and investing time with those that lift us up in body, mind, and spirit.

Sometimes I’m surprised by my inability to move beyond the shallow end. I try to convince myself that I’m not interested in playing in the shallows, but I allow small conversations and interactions to consume too much of my thoughts. And then I wonder why I don’t have the time or energy for more intellectual endeavours?

This is why I seek people to converse with one-on-one. I create the opportunities to go deep, to invest time with people that are intelligent, forthcoming, insightful, and enjoyable to be around. I create time away from from the shallow end, where conversations can go deep. We might still splash around in shallow conversations but these are enjoyable rather than taxing, playful rather than confrontational… and always open to going deeper.

the spaces in between

I’ve never been to a session at a conference that has taught me more and been more engaging than the ‘spaces in between’ the sessions.

Connecting with distant friends and colleagues; Engaging conversations about teaching, learning, and leading; Topical discussions and meetings over coffee and meals; And getting to know bright people who have similar jobs but unique life and work experience that open my eyes to things beyond what I tend to learn and in my scheduled blocks of conference time… these are the moments that make a conference a rich leaning experience… it’s the spaces in between.

Ain’t no such thing

I was having a text conversation with a friend and he accidentally used the wrong punctuation, and then corrected himself. But I read it as him answering his own question.

I hope so?

So!

He meant to say ‘I hope so!’ As in I hope I can make it. I interpreted it as him hoping so but not sure? Then being sure and saying, ‘So!’ As in yes I can. Mainly because I wasn’t watching my phone and didn’t know the messages came one right after the other, thinking there was a delay between the two. So we texted back and forth and he jokingly said, “And here I go thinking text communication is the most perfect and clear form of communication.”

Then I said, “In communication and transportation there ain’t no such thing as perfect.”

He replied, ‘Lol. Good one’, to which I replied, ‘Might be a blog post’.

Two things come to mind. First, the quote, “The meaning of your communication is the response that you get.” So even when you think you’ve communicated clearly if the response is unexpected, well then it wasn’t clear. Often we think we’ve conveyed a message clearly but when it isn’t received clearly, well then part of the blame does go to the communicator. This simple idea helps me be more patient and thoughtful when my communication is not received as I expected.

Secondly, there is no form of transportation that is close to perfect. If anything is traveling from point A to point B, an accident can happen… even if that accident isn’t caused by the transportation of choice. A simple example of this would be imagining that there were a (almost) perfect and safe way to get from A to B, but during the travel a tornado hit the vehicle. If something is being transported, the method of transportation is not perfect.

So, in communication and transportation we can expect mistakes and accidents.

Mistakes in communication can be made up for by being responsive, and by knowing that mistakes happen. Accidents in transportation will happen and there needs to be safety protocols and contingency plans. For example, I’m not against pipelines, but I think that companies that want oil as a natural resource should have to create a billion dollar cleanup fund for accidents that will eventually happen. If they say they can’t afford that, well then the government response shouldn’t be subsidies, but rather a response of, “The oil will be there when you can afford it.”

Perfect communication? Perfect transportation? I really don’t think so!

Being a good listener

A quick post to help me reflect out loud.

Recently I think I’ve been a poor listener. It’s not that I don’t listen, it’s that my listening has been filled with my own interjections and relevant stories. I realized this a few days ago when a colleague was sharing an experience they had on the weekend. I immediately shared a similar experience, then asked more about their’s.

That sounds polite but it isn’t. I didn’t just relate, I stole their thunder. I took away from a moment of someone sharing their experience, so that I could share mine… the story became mine, with theirs being a footnote.

I’ve reflected and realized that I’ve engaged with others like this too often in the past few weeks. I need to listen more in order to listen, not to ‘add to’, not to ‘fix’, not to ‘steal’. Just to listen, ask, encourage, celebrate others, and be present.