Decaf

Thursday, September 7th, 2006

The Chameleon Effect

A conversation I had today brought something to my attention. It wasn’t entirely new for me. I was aware of it for quite some time. But this conversation made me realize the source of the problem (at least a possible source).

The conversation was with one of my colleagues. The context: my last day at work. My colleague took me aside to say goodbye personally, and among other things, he said that he has always appreciated my patience and calm responses to every question he had.

Now, I certainly don’t have any intention to brag. The reason I am telling you this is that these things took me by surprise. I love helping people and sharing knowledge whenever I can, but to be honest, I don’t consider myself too calm. It’s not that I get angry when I help people. But I always felt that sometimes I become a little too passionate about the message I am trying to pass. Passion is usually a positive thing, but when you are engaged in a mentoring session or a professional discussion, you must be open-minded, and listen to each other.

So, why did I feel that my eagerness is sometimes an obstacle, while my colleague felt I am calm and attentive? I think the reason, at least in my case, is the chameleon effect.

You see, this person, who by the way I highly appreciate, is in fact a very calm person. I have never heard him raise his voice or act impatiently. And that’s where the chameleon effect comes into the picture. I guess that when I talk to a calm, patient, and attentive person it is almost impossible for me to act differently. When one side of the conversation is already pleasant, the other side will shortly follow. It is as if my colleague had an effect on me when we talked.

But when I am part of an already charged conversation, I immediately become ultra-passionate, and sometimes too passionate. This passion at this level in that particular context is interpreted as a challenge, so the other party becomes even more eager to prove his point, and so on. Now, it can all lead to a very interesting discussion. But there’s also a chance that the participants will become so focused in their own arguments that they will fail to engage a real, open, and fruitful conversation.

The chameleon effect makes us match our act to the surroundings. Of course, our nature and qualities affect the way we behave. But when we interact with another person the way he behaves also affects us. Think about the meaning of the word “interact”. It means to act upon one another. When you are engaged in a conversation, you are not just exchanging words and ideas. You make the other person respond. He, in return, makes you respond. Both your responses, their content and the way they are presented, are highly affected from the way the other acts.

The challenge is breaking the cycle. If you are aware of these dynamics, you may be able to control them. It probably won’t be easy at first, but when you interact with people, try to pay attention to how you respond. When you feel your response was counterproductive in its nature, try to think what triggered you to respond this way. Make a mental note, and next time try to identify these dynamics before you respond.

Naturally, it will be a process. But in time, you’ll learn to control the way you interact instead of automatically responding to the other person’s challenge. Your interactions with other people will become calmer, more focused, and more effective. You will eventually get rid of the chameleon effect.

Thursday, August 31st, 2006

Enjoy The Journey

We are always in a hurry! That’s what modern life is all about. Always trying to move faster, to make it first, or better still to make it now.

Somewhere along the way, we have forgotten that life (and business) shouldn’t be a race. It should be a journey. And like any other journey, we should take our time, enjoy the scenery, and even make some detours, whether or not they seem to serve any immediate goal.

In a journey, nothing is a waste of time or a waste of energy. It’s not that everything is “meant to be”, but we can certainly learn from whatever comes our way.

But to do well in your journey you need some tools in your sack. One of these tools reminds me of a tale I once heard. It goes something like this…

***

Once upon a time there was an old Chinese wise man (all good tales have one, don’t they). He lived in solitude in a monastery surrounded by a thick forest. His mission in life was to pass on the ancient secrets of martial arts to the younger generation. Once in three years the wise man opened the doors of his monastery and chose an apprentice to pass on his knowledge to. The chosen apprentice lived with the wise man for three years, until it was time to choose a new one.

One night, the young apprentice noticed that as evening fell his master would disappear into the woods and show up again only after midnight. He was even more surprise the next day when the same thing happened again. After a week, the young apprentice decided to follow his master and see what he was doing out there in the woods.

After the daily lesson finished, the young apprentice waited in his room until he saw his master going toward the woods. He followed him, making sure not to be noticed. After walking for an hour, the wise man stopped. He put down his sack and sat down on the ground. The apprentice watched him quietly. The old man started talking to himself. The apprentice could not hear what he was saying. Suddenly, the old man stood up and began to move around. He seemed to repeat the exact same moves he had taught apprentice earlier that day. Strange, the apprentice thought to himself, but he said nothing to his master the following morning.

The next day, the apprentice again followed his master into the woods. And again, he was witness to the same strange act. The same thing happened the day after, and the day after that.

After a week, the apprentice’s curiosity overcame him. He decided to ask his master the meaning of his behavior.

“Excuse me master, I must humbly ask you, what it is you do out there in the woods every night?” the young apprentice asked once his daily lesson was over.

“Each night”, answered the wise man, “I go out to the forest and teach the trees and the stones the secrets of martial arts”.

“But that doesn’t make sense”, the apprentice said indecisively. “The trees and the stones will never learn martial arts. They cannot move. This is just a waste of your valuable time”.

“You may be right, the trees and the stones will probably never be able to practice martial arts”, said the wise man. “But it is certainly not a waste of my time”, he continued, “as every night the trees and the stones teach me, in return, the nature of patience”.

***

Dedicated to all my friends and colleagues with whom I had the pleasure to work for the past seven years.