It is 11:40pm on Friday the 23rd, Black Friday. I’ve decided to pull back a bit, regroup my focus, and practice The Life-Changing Art of Tidying Up on some of my social media accounts (Facebook + Instagram. I am not a heavy user by far, but I’ve come to realize that I just don’t want to compete in this race. It doesn’t bring me joy and usually just takes me on a trip I don’t want to go on. I would rather speak directly to friends and family, share boatloads of personal pictures with people that come to me to see them, and rage-cry + passionately-build with people in person or over the phone. I need that touch, that contact, that human-ness back in my life and I cannot replace it with Facebook or Instagram. I am not going completely away as I still want to publish Empathy Lab updates, but I am going to pull back my personal involvement in these platforms. To get closer to Empathy Lab, sign up for our newsletter, it comes out every Friday and is brief, happy, thought provoking, and simple (bottom of home page).
So, what about Twitter?
Despite its fatal flaws as a social platform, I am still able to wade through the bullshit and keep up with friends, thought-leaders, and people trying desperately to dent the world in a positive way. I will stay there for now. You can find me at @shelton there if you want to follow me.
What about photos of my life (wifey, kiddos, adventures, oh my)?
Well, come find me and I will certainly share a boatload of pictures with you. I’ve really wanted Flickr to come back into my life, but it just isn’t going to be that way. Therefore, I am choosing to share photos via Google Photos. That being said, send me an email at email@example.com, and I will gladly share my inner life with you.
Birds do it, bees do it, and some humans do it. My two kids live in this amazing cycle because the world is brand new to them. Every experience, whether enjoyable or not, are learning experiences for them. They have no choice but to continue this learn, grow, repeat cycle.
Now, when it comes to adults, some of us tend to pre-maturely stop this cycle because we believe that we’ve learned enough, we are experts, or we are “good” where we are at. I find myself grunting at times when I have to take a new path from a place that was previously comfortable. This lack of growth through learning is one way that we actively fail to thrive. If our kids didn’t give new experiences (bike riding), new knowledge (subtraction), and change (new school) a chance, their maturation process would be stunted and we, as parents, would be extremely concerned. If we believe that continued challenge, change, and growth are essential parts to childhood development, why d we believe in the saying, “Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”? New age appropriate tricks can always be learned.
Learn. Grow. Repeat. If kids can do it without wining all that much, we adults can certainly do it too.
Why do we make living enjoyable lives together so damn difficult? Oh yes, that damn lizard brain’s attachment to power paired with a paranoid fear that, “people are out to get me.”
Leadership is difficult when you don’t know how to be vulnerable with the people you lead. #3 on this list by Forbes (11 Ways a Leader Can Develop Empathy) makes sense, but it falls short of telling leaders HOW to be more vulnerable in our western culture construct. We tend to award an image of authority and perfection while punishing those that show weakness or mistakes. If this is a common case, how can a leader of people feel safe being vulnerable if investors, board members, and those working for them hold them to an impossible and detrimental ideal? Continue reading “Thoughts on Vulnerable Leadership”→
I am a weekend runner and like to run different paths through my neighborhood and town. It’s fun to see different houses, streets, and the spring/summer blooms. My runs are not about how fast or how far, they are about moving my heart and sweating a bit. So, why did I feel the need to buy this FitBit Blaze in the first place? What were the jobs I wanted to be done?
Eastbound MARTA train, partially filled with weary day workers on their way home. It’s a familiar sight, something that grounds me. People are staring at their phones, listening to music, and looking out the windows at the passing urban landscape. It is a routine that I’ve selected to be mine, not something I am forced into.