Recently, a very wise person reminded me of the power of language, namely, the negative power generated when we complain. Anytime someone tells me to stop complaining, immediately my hackles go up and I mutter how dare you tell me how to talk or feel!!! But this wise person wasn’t necessarily telling me to stop complaining. She was simply pointing out a simple truth: energy flows where our focus goes. Language is a form of energy … the words we use make the people around us feel stuff. And sometimes, we absolutely need to articulate something that is wrong, out loud, so that we can make it right.

Someone recently told me about an interaction they’d had with their senior team leader. “He’s not that easy to connect with. Based on his communication style, we figured he slept in his button-down and khakis. An all work, no play kind of a guy. But that really changed after this one conversation.” “Why? What happened?” Intrigued, I was on the edge of my seat. “He shared something he’d learned in his judo class.” “Why was that so meaningful to you?”

I was recently creating a custom keynote experience for a client, and I just couldn’t land on where to begin. As I sat there typing and deleting, I realized my problem. I was trying to create a presentation for an amorphous “them” instead of real individuals. I went back to reread my notes, and got a good sense of who I was talking to … the people likely to be skeptics, and those likely to be fans. But then I took it a step further, and made audience personas, grabbing stock images to represent each type of audience member. I even gave them names.

A few months ago, I was once again feeling annoyed and frustrated with myself for not being consistent with my meditation practice. I have no excuse. I know the power of quieting the mind. I know the incredible benefits of a mediation practice. And yet.… Something different was called for. I decided that what I was craving was a little … structure. A little … novelty. A little … playbook. And so I created my very own meditation ritual, and I call it 4-4-4-4.

We’ve all been there. Someone says something that triggers a reaction of … Oh FFS. Maybe we perceive them as whining. Or making a mountain out of a molehill. Or maybe we are so exhausted and pushing so hard towards a goal, we get activated by someone who questions the breakneck pace or the incentives being chased. Case in point … that FFS moment from MillerKnoll’s internal Zoom call that went viral because CEO Andi Owen told employees to “leave pity city” and stop focusing on bonuses. Do I think Andi Owen is a bad person and a bad leader? Nah. I think she’s a three-dimensional human being trying to function in a leadership role during a hellishly hard economic cycle. I think she had an FFS moment and didn’t know (or was too exhausted) to check her reaction.