Questions to cultivate empathy

Empathy is about curiosity. It’s about seeking to understand. It’s about holding space.

Building on this recent post on what empathy sounds like here are some questions we might use to practice cultivating empathy:

  • What’s the hard part?
  • Where are you stuck?
  • What’s the real challenge here for you? (hat tip)
  • What’s a quirk you have?
  • What’s your superpower?
  • What’s on your mind?
  • What’s it like to be you right now?
  • What does success look like for you?
  • What are you not doing out of fear of it not working?
  • What is something you believe to be true that a lot of people think is untrue?
  • What else?
  • Tell me more about that…

Just like sleep, indoor plants and crunchy peanut butter we can almost never have enough curiosity.

When in doubt set a rule for yourself that you’re only allowed to ask questions.

Follow your nose and seek to understand.

Origin stories and imposters

Seth Godin and my friends at altMBA taught me that imposter syndrome is a good thing.

Austin Kleon opened my eyes to building on the wisdom of others by adding our own unique spin.

Jen Waldman helped me see that I had a noodle worthy of a TEDx platform.

Mary Freer shined her torch to help me see a good talk needs an actionable takeaway.

The result from all of these amazing, generous changemakers is the imposter two-step; A framework for dancing with our imposter.

I hope you’ll check it out and pass it on to a friend who might like to hear it.


Working for free

What if it’s a myth?

What if you’re either being paid or you’re paying someone?

To be clear, you can be paid in: experience, knowledge, time, case studies, insight, joy, satisfaction, fulfilment, change and yes, of course, money.

Or, you might realise that there’s actually a negative return.

That you’re paying someone else, without benefit, in: talent, time, energy, insight, or change.

So the question of “should I work for free?” actually becomes: “what exactly am I being paid for this and is it of value to me?”

Questions to noodle on ahead of 2020

(Because who better to talk 2020 than a guy who needs unbearably strong glasses in order to achieve that level of vision).

First, the review:

  • What did I do well in 2019?
  • What could I have done better in 2019?
  • Who were the 3-5 people who most positively influenced the year?
  • What brought me joy this year?
  • What frustrated me this year?

Then, the look forward:

  • What does success look like in 2020?
  • Why is it important to me?
  • Who will help me get there?
  • How might I add more joy in 2020?
  • How might I minimise frustration in 2020?

Happy New Year legends.

May your 2020 be full of delight, growth and delicious, thought provoking noodles.

Just a dog politely raising her hand to ask a question

Surrounds matter

Have you ever sat in a windowless, stuffy, dimly lit meeting room?

How about a fluorescent, bright, overly artificial waiting room?

Or what about one of those corporate training rooms setup like a Primary School classroom?

What was your energy like in these surrounds?

Did you feel energised? Creative? Productive? Motivated? Inspired? Fulfilled?

Or did you feel some version of this?

I’m guessing the latter.

Surrounds matter.

They impact our mood, energy and desire to connect with others.

So the next time you choose to do work, host a meeting, run a workshop or even catch up with a colleague or friend, consider:

How might I make this a place where people feel energised instead of drained?

Just another meeting room the same as all the other meeting rooms

The thing about blindspots

Is we’re blind to them.

That in order to see them, we need support. Something that provides light to the area we cannot see. A metaphorical torch, if you will.

This might come from a friend, partner or coach in the way of feedback, questions or a great resource.

The other thing about blindspots is when we finally see them they can feel painfully and embarrassingly obvious.

Pema Chödrön once wrote:

As we become more mindful it can come as a shock to realise how blind we’ve been to the ways in which we cause harm to ourselves and others.

With that in mind, it’s worth committing to seeking them out.

Consider: Who’s helping you find yours? Once found, what can you learn from them?

An alternative to othering ourselves

Often we view our fears, doubts and insecurities as unique to us.

We ‘other‘ ourselves by thinking we’re the only ones who experience them.

At the same time we view our strengths, experiences and stories as universal.

We don’t ‘other’ ourselves by thinking we’re just like everyone else, not unique in any way.

So what if we did the opposite?

That is:

We acknowledge everyone is working through fears, doubts and insecurities in some capacity.

We recognise we all have strengths, experiences and stories that make us uniquely us.

Might that change how we show up for one another? Might that change how we show up for ourselves?

PS. If you’re wondering what makes you unique

Assume one thing

Assumptions can be dangerous. 

In fact, we’re often told: “don’t assume anything”.

I’ve asserted before that having a posture based on curiosity is far more productive than a posture based on assumptions.

And I also wonder what it looks like if we first assume one thing:

Positive intent.

That is to say: What changes if we assume every single person is operating from a place of positive intent? That they’re trying to do the best they can, in the situation they’re in. 

Does it change the way we approach them? The story we tell ourselves about them? The way we seek to move forward together?

The balloon doesn’t have a lot to do with assumptions, but it’s a cool pic nonetheless

Decisions and outcomes

Instead of focussing on outcomes what if we focus on how we showed up for our decisions? 

Consider the poker player that has a 90% chance of winning a hand. 

They’re smart, they know the odds, so they go all in. 

Much to their surprise, they lose everything (because there’s a 10% chance they might).

Should they judge themselves harshly because of the outcome? 

Wouldn’t you have made the same decision?

Instead, what if they were proud of how they showed up knowing they made a good decision based on the information available to them at the time?

We can’t change the outcome, but we can change how we interact with it.

Good poker players know this, just ask Annie Duke.

The perils of missing information

We’re almost always missing information.

It might be someone’s work situation, or family situation. Their health, or their wealth. Their feelings or their beliefs.

Then, to make sense of it, we fill the gaps based on our view of the world. Based on our thoughts, our feelings and our beliefs. That is to say: without information, we create stories.

Finally, we believe these stories, our stories, to be true. To be rational. To be clear cut.

You can see how this might create friction.

What if instead, we sought to understand?

What if we stopped to consider: what information do I have? What story am I telling myself? And how can I seek to understand what I’m missing?

A story of abundance

I recently heard a story that reframed the noodles in my head quicker than any other.

There was a group of tourists out on a raft, lost off the coast of Brazil.

They’d been out there for hours in the sweltering hot sun and had run out of food and water.

They were panicking, arguing and bickering about what to do.

Eventually they all perished.

The most tragic part? The water they were floating on turned out to be fresh.

That they were surrounded by everything they needed.

And the same can be said of anyone reading this.

That we’re surrounded by joy, laughter and love.

We’re surrounded by generosity, empathy and compassion.

We’re surrounded by truly amazing people, doing truly amazing things.

We need only choose to look for it, to see it and to acknowledge it.

Group of people on a raft

Thrashing on thrashes

Before a noodle comes the thrash.

The necessary, messy part of starting something where you give yourself permission to get out ALL your ideas unattached from whether they make sense.

Do it on a whiteboard, or a notepad. A napkin or some butchers paper. You can even thrash out loud into a voice recorder.

The form doesn’t matter, the process is what does.

Too often we avoid the thrash.

We obsess over perfect, visualising what it looks like without taking action because we’re overwhelmed by what the first step looks like.

Instead, we can remind ourselves: thrash now, sort later.

Noodling on noodles

If you’ve ever read, heard or said something that made you, or others, stop and think, then you’ve experienced a noodle.

Noodles are bendy, thought provoking and encourage forward motion. The more the better. 

Noodles are also invitational and generous.

Announce to someone “In my opinion…” and watch them close off, shrivel up inside and get defensive.

Share with someone else “Here’s something I’ve been noodling on…” and watch them smile, open up and get curious. 

Hide and seek

Is actually a profoundly wise game.

As kids the premise is simple: everyone has 30 seconds to hide except for one person: the seeker. It’s their job to find the others and call them out of their hiding spots.

But what about as adults?

It seems we have an infinite number of hiding spots, with no designated seeker. No-one to call us out from hiding on social media, in our inbox or while binging Netflix.

The good news is it doesn’t take long to play a game of adult hide and seek.

Simply consider: Where am I hiding? What am I hiding from? How is it serving me?