The language of game-playing

I watched the group shooting baskets. They ranged in age from around 17 to around 28. Earlier they had been struggling to communicate across language barriers.

They had exchanged names and then faltered as they tried to talk about more complicated topics. They wanted to build relationship, but language created more of a barrier than a bridge. Although they continued to smile at each other, frustration showed in body language.

Then someone bounced a basketball in the adjacent courtyard. First one drifted over to see what might be going on, then another moved that direction, hesitant to abandon the effort to talk.

Soon they were organized into teams, shooting baskets, laughing and enjoying each other's company. All signs of frustration melted away. They were connecting through a completely different language -- the universal language of game playing.

Over the week, the sound of a basketball in the courtyard was a frequent and joyous sound. They called each other's names in celebration of good shots, in teasing about bad shots, and in encouragement to fellow team members.

The same sort of camaraderie developed over an Uno game in the open air dining room, where otherwise shy members of the group were drawn into growing relationships within the familiarity of drawing cards, playing cards, and shouting Uno.

Having grown up in a game-playing family, I am aware of the relationship-building that results from playing together, sharing a game. Time spent over cards, dominoes, board games and so on creates opportunities for understanding each other and valuing each other.

Seeing the principle at work, however, in a situation where language connections did not exist made me wonder . . . what would happen at international summit meetings and other diplomatic/political gatherings if the various members played Uno or 42?

Vacation preparation

I've been trying to prepare for a vacation. Sounds exciting, but in fact it is nerve-wracking and exhausting.

Once I decide to take some time off, it seems that every assignment in the world lands on my desk with an impossible turnaround time. The list grows daily until it seems insurmountable.

I work steadily, crossing off one task and then the next. Gradually, I see that there is no way I'm going to be able to accomplish everything on my list.

Finally, at the last possible moment I realize I will have to delegate -- as though that is the most awful fate in the world! Why do I fail to seek help from those around me? They are usually willing and in some cases glad to pitch in.
What is it about me that causes me to try to go it alone, take care of everything myself without assistance?

Is this a character flaw or poor training or lack of a good role model or what?

I know I benefit greatly from taking time off, getting away from the office. It may also be that I benefit greatly from being forced to hand off my tasks to someone else occasionally.

Maybe being forced to rely on someone else once in while is a valuable learning experience in itself.

Self-talk

I assume that everyone has a voice inside themselves.

That voice that does a running commentary on what is happening, on people who come across your path, on things that need to be remembered, on what kind of person you are.

From my own experience, that voice can be a demanding taskmaster and a hypercritical nag. It sometimes gets stuck on you ought to do this and why didn't you do that and why did you say that?!

I find that it is important from time to time to assess the content of that self-talk..... do an audit of just exactly what sort message is playing inside my head.

I've learned that the voice can depress me and make it hard for me to succeed.

I've learned that I can discipline that voice to make it more helpful. I don't have to be a victim of my own self-talk.

I wonder what it would be like if we could hear other people's self-talk; it might go a long way to helping us understand other people. We might be really stunned by their perspectives on the world.

Expectations

I heard a swimming coach talk today about various competitive swimmers he had coached over the years. His comment was that his swimmers were in some cases limited by his own expectations of them.

He talked specifically of one young person he coached over an eight year period. This person was not built like (did not have the body of) a championship swimmer. Based on that, he was not surprised that this person started races strong (and fast) but finished with no power (and last!)

Through a series of unexpected circumstances, this swimmer had an opportunity for success, and fellow teammates rallied around to encourage, support, cheer this person on. The coach thought secretly that it was nice, but futile.

The swimmer rose to the occasion and far exceeded previous achievements.

The coach noted that his own expectations had been holding back the swimmer's full effort. I wonder how much (how often) we are limited by others' expectations of us.

Even more seriously, I wonder how much we are limited by our own expectations of ourselves.

Views of the world

I've had a theory for some time now about how different individuals see the world around us in different ways.

This theory arose over time because I noticed that I tend to advert to color more than other people do. When I see a group of cars, I notice the colors -- to the exclusion of all other information. I don't notice the make, the condition, or even the drivers inside.

When I shop for clothes, I see color. When I shop for furniture, I see color. In my office I have file folders in various colors to help me sort them. I keep colored paper around so that I can print drafts of documents of a distinctive color, allowing me to know at a glance which is which. For years (when I used to have a paper calendar of appointments) I color coded the entries. You get the idea.

At first, I thought everyone had the same perspective I do. But then I gradually realized that there are people who sort the world around them based on other criteria. Some people sort based on factual datasets. Some people sort based on patterns. Some people are even color blind, for goodness sake!

If indeed our eyes are wired to our minds differently. . . if our visual assessments are communicated in different languages to our brains -- before the effects of our learning or experience or whatever can be applied . . . then I wonder how much of my view of the world is based on how I am hard-wired from the beginning?

And how does that play into our ability to communicate with each other?

Boundaries/Markers

Recently I heard a man say that football wouldn't be much of a game if there were no sidelines and goal lines. He said the boundaries create the playing field, inform us what is out of line, and let us know when to cheer.

It reminded me a bit about developing marketing plans. We always build into the plan measurable goals. We plan in advance to track the results of our marketing efforts -- so that we will know when to celebrate success.

I've heard experts say that children have to have boundaries in order to learn what is acceptable in life and what isn't. A child reared with no rules grows up with no context for his/her own behavior. And a child that tests boundaries does not really want the rules removed; quite the opposite: the child most often wants the boundary confirmed, wants to be able to count on stable contextual cues.

Markers are also important to children. Birthdays are the most obvious example. Moving to the next grade in school is another one. Other important ones are getting a driver's license, getting a job, graduation ceremonies.

Considering boundaries and markers made me think about the rhythms of adult life. There is a comfort associated with schedules and responsibilities. I remember after my dad retired that he joked about Wednesdays being a big day because it was trash day so for him there was something to do that day of the week! Apparently, for some retirement is challenging because it stretches into the future like a vast wasteland with no markers or boundaries.

I'm wondering if the issue of 'context' for our lives -- set by boundaries and markers -- is one of those fundamental needs we humans have. After all, we have to have some way of knowing when we are out of bounds and when to celebrate.

Listening

Why is listening so hard?

In communications theory classes, professors note that the part of the communications model that fails most often is the listening (or receiving) segment.

Articles in the Wall Street Journal report that U.S. corporations lose gazillions of dollars each year because of employees' failure to LISTEN. Because instructions aren't followed and tasks must be redone. Because customer orders are taken down incorrectly. And on and on.

In terms of relationships, we fail because we don't listen to each other.

Why is listening so hard?

Perhaps because of the fundamental human condition: we are more interested in ourselves than we are in anyone else!

I'm wondering what would happen if each of us tried an experiment. What if each of us vowed to listen attentively to just one other person each day. What if each of us quit thinking of our next brilliant comment; what if each of us totally focused on another person once a day.

My dad used to tell me, "You have two ears and one mouth. Use them accordingly."