There’s a lot you can control in this world. There’s a lot you can’t.
Focus on what you can, and the rest will take care of itself.
“The success of the dinner depends as much upon the company as the cook. Discordant elements – people invited alphabetically, or to pay off debts – are fatal.”
–Ward McAllister
There are lots of people in this world, and most of us want to connect. We visit bars, churches, gyms, groups, conferences, events, concerts, and parties hoping to meet someone who might send our world into a tailspin and infuse our life with new meaning.
We look for ways to deepen our existing relationships and simultaneously want to expand our network, expose ourselves to new options, and find different ways of doing things. We want to become better.
As business professionals, we attend seminars hoping to interact with someone who can offer insight into our work and challenge our beliefs. We sign up for groups, add ourselves to lists, fill our calendars with coffee dates, and comb our friends’ friends for people who might add value to our world.
With so many people looking, why are so many failing?
I recently spoke to a very charming, engaging entrepreneur who attended an expertly planned conference. Top players in international policy dappled the schedule, and high-profile keynotes lectured every hour. From the get-go, testimonials gushed all of the wonderfulness of the event, and sign-up sheets offered prime opportunities for attendees to market their businesses. Yet a very eager impresario walked away feeling like something was missing. Despite an impeccable schedule, he didn’t feel he had the opportunity to connect with others.
Information gleaned from speakers is surely helpful, inspiring, informative, but what’s the most valuable aspect of an event? Relationships. Think about the expertise in the room, just waiting to be accessed.
Yes, it can be difficult to strum up conversations in professional environments. It isn’t easy to approach strangers and put yourself on the line. It’s hard to be vulnerable.
How often do you step outside of your comfort zone?
What if you found yourself in a situation in which you didn’t know what to expect? You’re not sure who is going to be there, what you’re getting yourself into. Would the connections be different?
What if the only thing you knew is that you wanted to take something meaningful from the experience? What if you approached your life that way?
We can’t help it. Our titles are plastered onto our business cards, resumes, and online profiles. Our calling cards for connection are marred by our need to assimilate information quickly and efficiently. We’re grouped in terms of experience, what we can offer, where we’ve been, or even who we know.
But we don’t have to view this as a hard boundary.
C-level, mid-level, entry level, outsider — there’s something to be gained from looking above and below and beyond.
Leave assigned seating arrangements to airplanes and wedding parties. See which lines you can cross.
And why shouldn’t we?
Time is precious, our attention span is short, and we’re used to getting the information we need quickly. We skim recipes, comb through headlines, and bullet point information streams for what’s relevant. Menus, lists, choices, options, instructions, waivers, forms, classes, listings, fees—
It seems only natural we do the same with people.
We look to titles, degrees, labels, honors, boastings, pedigrees, and recommendations to help us learn if what we need is there. We scan resumes (lists! recipes!) to determine if a certain individual can offer us solutions to our problems.
But the things that really matter, the threads that unite us and draw us together, aren’t so easily accessed. What is truly valuable to us is often beneath the surface.
Warning label: digging and scratching and prodding and questioning required.
The x-factor, hormones, shared experiences, common struggles, learned skills, common hobbies, unique endeavors, a certain look…
Both online and off, what is that magnetic pull that creates curiosity from one person to another? What’s that secret sauce that drives some people to test limits, push boundaries, and draw their own road maps to living?
Think of personal trainers. There are trainers, the ones that tell you what to do and what exercise is next, maybe will even count the number of times you perform an exercise. But then there are trainers, the types of people you want to pay just to be around them. Trainers who keep you returning, when, after the initial lure of physical fitness has ended, you want to continue to grow and learn and be in their company. Something inside of you wants to make them proud.
There’s the shop owner. His store is an extra walk or a longer drive, but because of his smile, the way he completes your transaction, the way he waves at you when you leave, you take extra time out of your day to visit him. You want to support his business. You want to watch him succeed.
A contagious laugh. A beaming smile. Inspiring stories that have no end. Challenges that have been overcome.
What defines the type of person you like to be around?
In a world in which our lives grow increasingly intertwined, the time and space for us to cultivate meaningful personal relationships has become encroached upon. Superficial connections are quickly, easily made, so authentic relationships — ones that are valuable and mutually shared — have become scare.
How can we find and establish them if we’re chained to the immediate fix? Email alerts, the need to be in the know, the reward centers of our brains that light up by positive feedback, sudden jolts of praise that mask our insecurities.
Yet these insecurities, the precise vulnerabilities that make us human, make us appealing to others, we mask. Whether it’s fear or loneliness or the need for protection, we create boundaries to hide them. And we do it well. These boundaries manifest online, affect our daily interactions, and prohibit us from taking that extra step, form new connections, generate new ideas.
Do you create incubators within your life for connection? Do you seek out people who are successful? Or do you passively wait for them to come to you?
