On getting stuck

One week ago I got stuck.

I had 98 blog post published, and was about to write number 99. The night before, I had prepared a LinkedIn article to celebrate post number 100. I was quite proud of the result, and I felt on a roll with writing. I started thinking that perhaps I could regularly write longer articles, both on LinkedIn and Medium. Who knows, with a bit of luck I could also publish on some of the local webzines, just to have an additional outlet for the need to share my ideas.

And I got stuck.

It was the first time in more than three months writing every day I felt like I had a completely blank mind. No ideas. I started writing two or three times, on two or three different topics. Some paragraphs, I actually got a post almost complete, and then I realized it was not good enough. I deleted it and started from scratch. The blinking cursor was a terrible countdown.

I breathed. I remembered the reasons why I am doing this. And I took a break. I also told my wife I was stuck, and that helped elaborating the frustration and the dissappointed. After about twenty minutes, I went back to the computer and I wrote blog post number 99.

There are so many elements of resistance in this brief moment of panic. I had set an unimportant target that put pressure on me (the blog post 100 meant I could publish my first article on LinkedIn); suddenly, I had started overworrying about the quality of my posts, and of course I had immediately turned hypercritical (the deleted post would have probably been good enough on a different day); and eventually, my mind shut down completely, refusing to produce any idea to put into words.

These type of moments happen all the time you have to use consistently your brain to achieve something that matters. Be aware and kind to yourselves, and remember that more often than not, taking a deep breath and a break will get you unstuck.

Leave some empty space

We used to have three hangers on the wall of our hallway, mainly to hang the kids’ outdoor clothes. We soon realized they were not enough, as some of the clothes inevitably ended up on the floor. We added two, and yet a jacket or some outdoor trousers were still continuosly out of place. We now have seven (and a wicker basket), and you can imagine it is still tricky to walk in our hallway without stepping on a hat, a pair of gloves or a reflective vest (very much needed during the dark winters in Finland).

The fact is, we tend to fill the space we are given. In an unusual application of Parkinson’s law, if we have an additional room, we end up buying more stuff to put into it. Similarly, if we are given more and unexpected time, we probably end up wasting it with activities we would not have done otherwise (social media, anyone?); and if an organization is gifted with growth, it most likely invests it in achieving even more growth (more personnel, more offices, more complexity).

What if, instead, we would leave some empty spaces in our lives? What if the next time we have five extra minutes before the following appointment, we just sit down and think? What if we say no to that customer, or to expanding to a new market, or to launching yet another product line, so that the people that are already in can actually enjoy the moment of success?

Would that be so dramatic? Or would we be more rested, prepared and galvanized for what comes next?

The practice of empathy

A while back, I have written about empathy and about how it is not something that comes natural to most people (me included).

But what does empathy look like in practice?

It is certainly not to feel sorrow for someone’s issues. When we do, we tend to approach the relationship from a position of strength, it is kind of a top-down feeling. We do not really empathize with the other person, as we are not in the same “frame of reference”. Feeling sorry is more sympathy or compassion, and as Brené Brown brilliantly puts it, it is not something someone who is in trouble wants to receive.

Empathy is also not giving people a free pass for their problems. Again, this is an approach that assumes a position of power, and it is not fundamentally different from sympathy: we feel sorry for our colleague, and therefore we close an eye to the fact they are making a poor job.

Empathy is acknowledging the other person’s situation from a neutral, non judgemental position. In Ed Batista’s words, “we comprehend their perspective and emotions, and we are able to envision ourselves experiencing that perspective and those emotions under similar circumstances”.

And then, it is suspending our natural inclination to suggest a course of action, or give an advice to “fix” the situation based on our own experience. We stay there in their world, and we acknowledge it as it is. And if the time comes when it is expected of us to say something, paraphrasing a beautiful thought by Seth Godin, we do that from their own place.

When you have to do with somebody, you have no idea how many times this person has been kicked in the teeth. All you know is that they act in ways you would not. If you care about the outcome, the question is not ‘What would I do?’. The question is ‘If I had been exposed to what you have been exposed to, what story would resonate with me?’

It is possible to get better at empathy, and by doing that you will find you can establish more meaningful and stable connections. It is an investment worth doing.

 

 

 

100 days of blogging

Today marks my 100th day of blogging. 100 consecutive days.

It’s just been a bit more than three months, and already I can identify some pretty good benefits from my practice.

First of all, I am getting better at fighting resistance. Resistance is with me basically every day I open the WordPress app on my PC, it is with me even before that. I have stopped listening to it. Even though a post is not the best possible I could write, even when I have no idea what I will blog about, even when I am tired and drained. I go on.

Then, I am less and less critical of what I write. This is, and will probably always be, a difficult balance to strike for me. I do not want to write shit, I want to make sure my thoughts are clear and digestible, and at the same time I need to not over worry about the content I am putting out here (if I’ll do, I’ll get stuck). So far, it worked.

And finally, my opinions and ideas are crystallizing. I have started writing things down few years back to make sure I could be more comfortable when speaking, for example before important conversations or meetings. Yet blogging every day allows me to clarify my thoughts on a wider range of topics, and this is something that I feel will continue to add up as I keep at it.

Very happy to have made it this far. Now, let’s go on.

 

Labelling

Labels stick.

This is why we get defensive when we are assigned one we do not like, as well as why we should be careful when assigning one to others.

It happens a lot when we deliver feedback. Things like “it does not seem you are committed enough” (label = “indifferent”), or “you could do so much more if only..” (label = “underperformer”), or “you are very aggressive in meetings”, trigger defensiveness in others. And they tend to be profoundly ineffective. After all, would you be motivated in changing your behaviour if somebody would tell you that, or would you rather assume a defensive stance?

And unfortunately it is a tendency permeating much of the public discussion nowadays, both online and offline. More and more, we see people attacking each others on a personal level, labelling each others for life, defining each others’ set of values, beliefs, needs and motives based on a single action or word. In most circumstances, this is gratuitous.

It’s worth remembering that when we interact with somebody, all we see is what they do, all we hear is what they say and, in the case of the internet, all we know is what they write. We have no way to know their intentions. If we want to create some type of change, it might be more effective to approach the issue from our perspective, and elaborate on what we actually feel. This is the only other thing that we know.

When I hear that, I feel like my heritage and history is not being respected.
If I come across that type of comments, I feel sadness as we might never find a common way.
When I see a behaviour that does not respect others’ boundaries, I feel as if mine have been violated as well.

P.S.: today’s thought was sparked by this post of Ed Batista on feedback, and by the work of David Bradford and Mary Ann Huckabay on the metaphor of “the net”.