Author: neil

For the longest time, I’ve struggled with explaining my ideas.

It’s a combination of thinking in a language, then realising I don’t know the right vocabulary in English to translate, then freaking out because I’m lost trying to keep track of the idea and the translation, then realising that I no longer have any idea about what my original line of thought was, then totally losing it when I start thinking that the person I’m trying to communicate is now judging my lack of words for stupidity.

I’ve come up with my own hacks to get around this problem: accepting that starting to think in English is advantageous in the lifecycle of the idea,  learning vocabulary (Wordsmith.org is wonderful, as is Norman Lewis’ book Word Power), reading ideas from different domains and using them as analogies when necessary, practising getting over the stuttered speech at Toastmasters, and several others.

Today I had the opportunity to share a couple of them with at least two colleagues, both of who were feeling stuck. It felt good to share those ideas with them. I also learnt that I talk way more than I need to. Succinct articulation of ideas is a worthy goal.

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Another glorious evening after several days of wet weather, with no opportunity to go for walks.

Stories are powerful forces for inspiration, and action.

I witnessed one today by a colleague who is hearing impaired, and an incredibly smart engineer. He spoke about his challenges, and how he’s learnt to deal with them, and the future he sees for himself – or makes happen.

I am grateful to have had him ask me if he could present. I ‘m lucky that his response to my encouragement to share his personal story instead of his product innovation was positive. Everyone who attended was privileged to hear his story of patience, perseverance and passion – and they all shone through in an audience of 50+ people who voluntarily turned up to the session I arrange on every Thursday afternoon.

By assenting to share his story, he also created the content that he can share with the world, with kids going through similar challenges as he did, with other people who support people going through similar challenges. I’m glad to have had a chance to play a small part in pulling together his story.

I love doing this, and I would do it without pay. Which funnily, I am doing now 🙂

 

How do you differentiate between a relationship and a transaction? If I reach out to connect with someone, it’s generally in the hope of getting from someone else.

Over the last couple of decades, I’ve rediscovered the power of things I did without overthinking as a child. Some of them are universal.

Like a child? Seems too simple to work in this complex world.

Is it?

As a child, you always want to play. You see someone about the same size as you. You don’t think too much about it; instead you simply ask if they want to play.  Most often, the answer is yes. Great fun is had by both/ all parties. Rinse and repeat.

Through the eyes of a child, every such interaction is a relationship. The objective is fun in the moment. It may last only as long as the game. The intent is not fun only for yourself. Instead a strangely yet deep understanding that two (or more) people will have far more fun than playing by yourself.

Something changes as soon as we get ‘older’. The narrative in our heads feels different. The intent is on my want, not our want, because I no longer can presume to know what your want is anymore, & rightly so. Very quickly we get caught in this story we tell ourself. Connection begins to feels harder, transactional.

The need for connection, for human engagement, never goes away though.

Going back to the basics, in a child-like manner, being genuinely interested in us rather than me feels natural again.  And apparently, it’s also a super-power.