I love to read. It’s one
of my vices/releases/focusers/outlets/teachers and I am diligent to incorporate
it into my schedule often. I am fairly diverse in the topics I choose to read
on but my preference is always writing that teaches me more about me. I don’t
mean that in a narcissistic way. I just don’t believe I’m that much different
from anyone else and so, in learning about myself I also learn about others.
I’m smack in the middle of Brene Brown’s amazing text called Daring Greatly. I
won’t rehash the themes of the book – I’ll just say “put it on your list”. And
perhaps shove the top one off so it’s next in queue. It’s that good.
One of the topics she
covers brilliantly is that of Connection. I’ve been chewing on the concept for
several days and want to share a few of my thoughts. I’ll start with a story
from a work trip I made this weekend:
My husband’s grandfather
is 90+ years old. I spent Sunday morning at breakfast with him at a historic
inn located in Stillwater, Minnesota. In the conversation, one of us
posed the question to him, “What is the biggest change you’ve seen over the
course of your lifetime?” His answer started with a comment about cell phones
and how people can hardly have a conversation without pulling out their phone
to “leave” those present in favor of those absent.
Reality check.
He continued to explain
that before all of the tools we have to “stay connected”, there was a lot more Connection. He didn’t say it in these exact words but his message was clear. We
are too busy trying to do everything that we end up accomplishing very little.
We are too busy talking to everyone that we hardly truly communicate with
anyone. We are so caught up in the illusion of connectivity to the world that
we miss what it looks like to actually experience genuine Connection with
individual people. His actual words were “Families don’t know how to be
families anymore.” Activities, errands, and the busy-ness of ensuring that no
one “misses out” on an opportunity ultimately result in missing out on the
Connection that Brown describes as “the reason we are here and how we are
neurobiologically wired.”
And again.
Connection does not
equal conversation - nor does it equal communication. Often, these are the
well-worn paths Connection loves to travel but they are not always necessary. What
is necessary, always, is time and space. When we commit time to another person
– distraction-free, focused, preoccupation-free time, we plant the seeds from
which Connection explodes. When we create space to breathe, space to look at
each other and listen with our whole self to ALL that person is saying with
their whole self, we water the ground from which Connection rises. Time and
space require a quiet mind and a quiet heart – the opposite direction from
every cultural undercurrent’s tow. They require our intention, our attention
and our value.
As leaders, we must be
militant about remembering Connection with those who look toward and follow us. We
must be committed to Connection with those who walk alongside us on our
leadership path. We must be intentional about Connection with those who are a
few mile markers ahead – like Grandpa – who so beautifully remind us that
oftentimes less really is more.
Less busy-ness equals more accomplishment.
Less
talking equals more communication.
Less noise equals more volume on the things
we really need to hear.
Less connectivity equals more Connection.
In which of these areas do you need to recalibrate your brain?
In your world, who is desperate for Connection with you?
Understanding that it's how what we are designed for, do you truly value Connection as "the reason we are here"?
Are you willing to find areas, not where you can do more, but where you can intentionally do less IN ORDER TO EXPERIENCE MORE?
Lean forward,
Bekka