Category: Writing

I spent much time today learning how payments systems integrate with websites, how to set up a Square account, and crafting campaigns to persuade people to renew their membership at the community radio station.

In the midst of it all, I realise that David Epstein’s blog post from a few weeks “…the greatest CEO you’ve never heard of” was front and centre of mind. Not because I have any ambitions of being a CEO (I emphatically don’t!), but because Frances Hesselbein has done what I believe a good leader does – “I did not intend to become a leader. I just learned by doing what was needed at the time.”

I am not an expert on payment systems, or integration, or crafting marketing campaigns, or playing mediator. I probably spend far too much time even trying to understand what a reasonably competent person can do in minutes.  But thanks to the opportunity that this volunteering offers me, I am quickly gaining skills in areas I would have never done in my day job. I’m also playing to my strengths – doing in minutes what takes the other Board members hours or even days, and therefore finding plenty of time to learn about these new skills.

 

I get to see hundreds of examples of amazing and awful leadership at work, which is obviously not news to anyone who’s ever worked in any organisation.

I have been ruminating on the subject of leadership and engagement surveys for a while now.  I finally wrote this down in what I expected would be a short note but which took me the good part of the day. Unedited, it is at 2000+ words, which I think is about 1900 words too many.

Writing it  down was liberating. It’s out of my head and on a document. I can now have room for another 2000 words to form, on perhaps a subject also closely related to that same one: culture and its relationship to the office.

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The weekend is gloomy again, and with all the busy-ness of the last few days, the daily walk fell by the wayside.  A persistent cough (not COVID, checked), possibly by the pollen in the air whipped up by the strong storm winds, isn’t helping either.

Despite that, there are only 25 days of the 100 day challenge to go. I’ve learnt how little time it actually takes to do the four things I kept putting off every day, and therefore not doing at all. The walk needs to be re-examined, and reintroduced. There’s other things too I need to get a handle on, and another 100 day experiment will be handy to build some habit-muscle.

 

In the last 48 hours or so, I’ve been fascinated with the variety of decisions that have been made around me (and some that I myself have had to make). They range from the trivial (where the Christmas party is going to be – although some would not consider that a trivial decision at all, going by the arguments about it) to the transformative (restructure of an entire team leaving them headless for a while).

Then there is the corporate mantra of “we will streamline decision-making” or some such variation.  The dawning realisation that the way decisions are made around the place is no longer towards a strategy (which itself has been rendered meaningless in the context in which it operates) forces a wholesale communication barrage about “making better decisions”.

How are decisions really made in organisations? For that matter, how are decisions arrived at in the team in which I work in? How do I help make them? Keeping a log of these in the new year will be a useful way of learning. (Not this side of Christmas, I need to figure out how to organise this Christmas party :D)

It was a time of great tempest in my life. In hindsight, it was mostly self-inflicted, primarily through a series of poor choices and with no understanding of what living life with the long-term in mind meant.

Many wonderful things happened to me around that period. My now-wife & I decided to, and got married. I changed jobs and continents. I started seeing opportunities where others said none existed. I grabbed as many as I could, made more choices, and as the Richard Feynman quote I wrote out says, some days gave happiness, others experiences, some others lessons, and many memories.

These changes started with inspiration from Jim Rohn and Bob Proctor, two men I had never heard about until I heard their voices on a mp3. They were my constant companion in the car on my daily commute. I pondered on some of their ideas, immediately applied some, and downright rejected others. The idea of a life led by one’s own philosophy was captivating.  I started questioning my own philosophies in different aspects of my life. Where I had no idea, I borrowed from those two gents in my car. I started reading more books, better books. I listened to better talks. I met more people and remained open a little longer to the conversations. I cut out several toxic relationships. I started thinking about money differently.

A decade or so later, and as another trip around the sun completes, I marvel at how listening to those voices, and the small changes in choices have compounded in my life. Of course, I’ve made many ridiculous and downright stupid choices too along the way.  But those have not dampened, in my eyes at least, the effect of the compounding, better ones.

I’m truly grateful to the two people who shared that mp3 with me, and put me on a different trajectory.

A version of Jim Rohn’s talk is here

 

Channeling nervousness into enthusiasm is one of the best hacks I’ve learnt for doing a presentation.

It’s not easy, of course. The judge sitting in on all proceedings, the internal one, continually mutters criticisms and casts doubt. Distractions abound, particularly those I can’t do anything about in the moment (like the person who abruptly turns off their camera).  There’s a never-ending stream of ideas that pop up as I discover things about the audience I did not know when I started, all preparation aside.

Repeatedly putting myself in situations of discomfort – at every Toastmasters meeting, or team meetings, for example – has been good practice. In the relatively friendly environment, I can ask for and get honest feedback (evaluation specifically, rather than appreciation or coaching) on what caught any one person’s attention, or caused them to flinch in horror or disgust.  Hearing it immediately after the episode makes it easier to know what fine tuning, or radical surgery, is required. Over a period of time, the effort delivers compounded benefits.

 

 

The identity we build for ourselves is our fortress, and then our tomb.

That’s the thought that went through my mind as I sat in on a meeting today, watching a few people go through a major organisational transition announcement.

I know it’s easy to do this observation when it’s about other people. Very like, those very people I observed today were the ones doing the observation about other people going through that transition not so long ago.

Bruce Lee’s advice “be like water” comes to mind. Practising that idea every single day is a good idea, in preparation for the day that I too will be going through the same transition. I don’t know what will cause that transition or when it will happen. That transition might be life itself. The advice still holds, I think.

Be like water.

Flow like it does.

Adapt like it does.

I’ve come to fall in love with those three words, be like water. And I’m reminded of them almost every day lately.

Behaviour that emerges in complex systems – and all human societies and organisations are complex – often appears to be strange or sub-optimal. And it often is!  …if your only argument is “that’s inefficient” or “that’s a stupid way of doing things”, perhaps you should think again.

Thus concludes Rob Miller’s latest missive – a weekly newsletter that is always thought-provoking.  And how timely! Today alone I’ve had at least two instances where the “that’s stupid” phrase was thrown around. And I won’t even count the number of times I’ve heard it (even said it myself) in the last couple of months.

Empathising the reasons why things are done a certain way is important. What I’ve been struggling with, however, is once that empathising and reasoning why things are in place, the extent of discussion and hand-wringing by people who’s jobs are primarily to make decisions.  Decision rigor-mortis, that to me right now is the inexplicable phenomenon.

 

This weekend has gone by in a blur! Driving the young ones to their activities and birthday parties, investing time in the preparation required to understand the volunteer role I’m in, a silly season lunch and conversations with new folks (many of whose names I didn’t quite make the effort to ask as I’d normally do), and admin chores.. and it’s already well past bedtime on a Sunday night.

As much as it feels like it’s been a hectic week/ weekend, I’m grateful that I have so many people in my life. It’s a fine line between solitude (I love it) and loneliness (I’ve been there and I don’t wish it on anyone). Loneliness is a scourge, and it’s easy to feel overwhelmed with life. I know so many people who’d die to have one conversation a day – and can’t. Having the opportunity today to meet with so many people much older than I, I realise that the petulance that kids display when they don’t get what they want isn’t restricted to kids alone (:D). I learned to spar with some really witty folks, getting as good as I gave, and giving much better than I had done in a long time.

 

I’ve become involved with a local radio station in an official volunteer capacity. I decided to do so because it is indeed something I’ve long been interested in. While I’ve helped out on and off, this time round when the lady I’ve been assisting wondered if I was up to take on a role, I agreed without hesitation.

In the few hours since I got elected to the Board, I’ve learnt so much about human behavior. Whether it’s over-estimating their own importance,  getting on the offensive at the collective but targeting the softest target, the desire to do big creditable things but the unwillingness to put in the effort, the list goes on.

It’s easy to feel disheartened at this – to worry am I going to get caught in the middle?

I choose not to. I spent a few hours today, reviewing the state of affairs. Strategy, finance, technology, website, payment systems, content management, membership, nearly every one of those areas can be improved, substantially, with a little effort. The question I grappled with almost instantly was should I focus on the areas of my strength, or where it is most valuable for the organisation. Given the composition of my fellow team, I think focus on strategy and finance for the next couple of months are quintessential. Taking a broader, longer-term view, rebuilding after the horror of CoVID-induced destruction will be my gift to the community I’ve chosen to help.