The human side of business

Small Business

Face Time.

·

Slack me.
Skype me.
Google Hangout with me.
Text… if I don’t answer those.
Email …as a last resort.
And call me… if it’s an emergency.

This isn’t how I feel, but this is how it is. It’s the modern way we work. And it’s great, mostly, but it deceives us into some false assumptions if we aren’t careful about real time versus screen time with people.

All of us are so grateful for the connection economy that we rarely question the need to look-into-thine-eyes. The truth is that our worlds rely on this incredible world of multi-media-multi-platform communication – it’s the only way I get to live in a seaside village in Massachusetts with good schools and .03% crime, and the only way you get to do business in Colorado, India, New York, Berlin, China or San Francisco from a juice bar in LA. There’s no argument there.

But nothing – ever – will replace or stand in for real time, together, in the same room. Not all the time. But some times.

When you don’t see your team for long enough, Feelings (capital F intentional) emerge. Stories mount. Illusions become conclusions. Tone festers. When partners / employees / stakeholders don’t spend time in the same space, they don’t relax into all the benefits of true human connection. As much as we love our agility and flexibility and our short commute from kitchen to office, we also rightfully yearn for reassurance that when I see blue, you also see blue. And, that you and I are more than just animated screens with a scope of work to perform for a check each month.

You relish and live off of the words of your lover after days or a few weeks of separation. But weeks that turn into months that turn into quarters that turn into seasons? That’s not a relationship that you’d choose – in fact if you’ve ever been there, you’ll notice that problems that were never there, or that were only a whisper, turn into a shout. Contact is curative. The same happens between work teams. We all benefit from periodic ‘touch’. The virtual workforce is a miracle and blessing, but don’t mistake it for what happens when people share air.

Make time for face time.
The airfare / cab fare / gas prices / walk down the hall …pay for themselves in a bank account of better vibes and most likely, better work.

Share

Instagram

  • Join me in conversation today with @libertyforher at 1pm EST for #mentormonday. Talking about the future of small business, how to know when you don’t know, with a Q and A at the end. #entrepreneurship #womeninbusiness #community RSVP www.libertyforher.com/liberty-calendar
  • A good day to celebrate 48! #hbdtome🎉 #aliveandwell
  • Today, I got down on my knees and did something I’m slightly ashamed to say… I haven’t done in a very long time. I cleaned all the floors in my house. I scrubbed the corners of the bathrooms, the places that no one sees until they look too closely. I scoured the kitchen, edge to edge. It is a privilege (under normal circumstances) to be able to outsource this work. At the same time, it was on my knees that felt right on this day. On one’s knees there is humility. It’s the way we pray; it’s where we play with our babies, and where we come to understand what vulnerability really means. It’s often where we cry. There’s something about being close to the ground, the earth. The act of lowering our bodies also lowers our walls, our egos, our pride. Once, when I was in India, I saw something that I still think of often. I was sitting in the courtyard of a shrine, an open square surrounded by an ancient wall whose center housed a divine Hindi god. There are hundreds like them. Thousands of people, of all socioeconomic groups, were making their way in and out. The very, very poor – shoeless, toothless, penniless – stood alongside the very rich, with expensive watches and waiting drivers. Some were moving slowly, others in a rush. Worship, in India is a daily devotional practice – a stop on the way to work as much as a holy family outing. I watched as throngs of people poured out of every doorway, walking briskly past the others who had prostrated themselves in front of the structure itself – some, kneeling, noses down, others laid out on their bellies, arms outstretched in supplication. This chaotic scene plays out often there – to the curiosity of Westerners who can’t imagine ourselves face down in our own sacred venues – which might be church for some, or a concert for others. A young man, maybe 20-years old, in his rush to leave, inadvertently stepped on the arm of an elder woman still in the process of worship. With her face down buried into the stone, she most certainly felt the injury – it was the full weight of his body on her frail wrist. But she didn’t move. (Cont. in comments)
  • A very happy 10th birthday to this lil stinker. Have a feeling we’ll remember this one. #hbd #noparty #morecake
  • I can’t remember the last time… I had time. When I wasn’t in a hurry. When I wasn’t doing two, three, even four things – at once. This is unprecedented. Perhaps even sacred. Strangely, I’m now beginning to realize how upset I’ve been at never having enough… Hours…..Space…..Width…..Depth. We, as a culture, know so little about staying in one place. About settling in. About being quiet, within the quiet, in the soft corners of our interiors. We talk about it. But how much do we embody it? Our footprints are on everything, even while we talk about stillness. Our minds are everywhere, even as we preach about mindfulness. Yet, there are some of us – many of us I’m learning – who see the gift in this (undoubtedly) finite moment. We are doing things we haven’t had time to do in years. Our schedules are empty, and one thing doesn’t have to be sacrificed for another, because the day just got a lot longer. We aren’t checking the box, we’re climbing out of it – even as we’re confined to it. For the first time in a long while, we can hear ourselves think. Yes, the thoughts are scary, uncertain, confronting and even bleak at times. We see suffering, and fear. But somewhere, deep inside, is that relief I also feel? A regeneration is happening. What can we learn? What can be birthed – in all this space? What closure – within us, around us – has been forced, that needs to take hold? I hope this time can and will mean something. Because unequivocally, we are getting a message, if we’re willing to hear it. Could this be the beginning of everything that needs to be next? I’m going to let it come. And then, let it roar. I want to be ready for something precious and bold. I want this to be the time… we didn’t go back to that. We have some change to make. #covid_19

About

SMARTY began as a thriving community in Los Angeles and Boston with weekly panel discussions and events designed to better understand the mindset and growth strategies behind successful entrepreneurs. Today, SMARTY is a weekly blog written by Amy Swift Crosby who chronicles her life as a creative, parent, entrepreneur and spiritual seeker. As an urban refugee living in a New England seaside village, she unpacks topics ranging from uncertainty and doubt to the built environment and advertising. More on Amy.

Never Miss a Post

Follow Us

Latest Posts