Even though I had started writing this blog long ago, I had kept doing it in private. The reason was the usual – mental chatter. Doubt in myself. Worry about how others would judge me. Apprehension about revealing my inner vulnerabilities.

It has been a month now since I started sharing this blog publicly. And the most impactful outcome of the process was not any of the things I had been ruminating on above. It has been something else entirely – people reaching out to connect. Childhood friends. Cousins I had lost touch with. College alumni. And these connections have been meaningful because they began with a dialogue about a post they resonated with instead of the mundane small talk.

This process has been a lesson in why we should try new things more often. When we let fear and anxiety block us from a new experience, there can be no changes in the current flow of our life. Instead, when we take that first shaky step, there can be outcomes that we could never have anticipated while debating in our own minds.

Take that first step. Try something new. We never know what unexpected surprises await us.

Everyone has a story. If only we are patient and open enough to listen to it.

New year resolutions are notorious for not lasting beyond January. When we resolve to start a habit is when our motivation is at its highest. At the stroke of midnight on New Years. At the end of an educational conference filling our brains with the latest changes in our field that we are yet to catch up on.

What we often forget is that this version of us is not the one who will eventually have to sustain the habit. Rather it is the version of “us” after a long day at work. The version of “us” who is woken up by the alarm after 4 hours of sleep.

Researchers call this the empathy gap. When planning for a new routine, think of the person you will be at the time of execution. This will allow us to consciously pick the most optimal time as well as set realistic and empathetic goals. Ones that we are more likely to meet and sustain in the long term.

Life is like a song, and the sole purpose of the song is to dance. When we listen to a song, we don’t dance with the goal of getting to the end of the music. We dance to enjoy it.

– Alan Watts

It’s not good to have power for too long. You don’t realize the way your voice seems to boom louder than every other voice in the room.

– Robert Iger, The Ride Of A Lifetime

When we are in a leadership position, our perspective is, by default, skewed. We can reduce this bias by endorsing a culture of openness and creating constant feedback loops from smart people who disagree with us. But nevertheless, the longer we are in that position, the louder our voice becomes. To the point where we ourselves can’t recognize it.

At such times, I have found it is useful to take up a new challenging role, preferably one that gives a different perspective. This will reveal to us other viewpoints that are not visible from the high horse we were sitting on earlier. More importantly, it increases empathy as we are forced to acknowledge and learn things that we don’t know.

During a group discussion on effective negotiations, one of the members said this.

Listening is an important part of data gathering.

When we want to put forth an opinion to another team, too often we focus on our ideas and narrowly fixate on collecting data points that substantiate them. We tend to forget that any discussion is a group activity. Hearing and understanding the other perspectives is an important data point on its own that can pivot or even enrich our proposal.

Hearing this was a good reminder to self. Listening is also a source of data.

Asking questions is not always about getting an answer but we tend to often conflate the two. Most of the time, a question is about putting forth a new view point for consideration. Introspect preconceived notions. Nudge a change. Reveal a blindspot. Initiate a conversation.

That’s why being vocal matters.

Consistency over time is trust

– Jeff Weiner, CEO of LinkedIn

When the people we care about are sharing their deepest emotions with us and venting their hearts out, how can we be more effective listeners?

One lesson I have learnt is to not focus on my reactions to what they are saying. Instead listen to them. What they expect from me is all there already – in their voice, body language and words – just waiting for me to notice. When I focus on them instead of my own feelings, I can truly become the support system they want in that conversation.

This is a dilemma that I grapple with often. When I am trying to accomplish a hard task, during the process I inevitably come to a fork in the road where I have to make a choice. Should I continue persevering or pivot in a new direction? Followed by the question: If I choose to quit, am I giving up too easily?

Recently I was faced with this choice yet again. And through the process of figuring things out, I had a moment of epiphany which made the decision making process clearer.

If I do persevere and accomplish my goal, when I am sixty and looking back, would I feel that the effort invested was a worthwhile use of my time?

The answer in this case was a resounding no.

Zooming out to see the big picture helped me understand my own motivations and evaluate whether the effort I was expending was aligned with my larger life goals.