#165: Should you or what could you? What is the difference?
Good morning my friends
Let’s start with some sweetness…
If you have young children, Cape Town freediver Zandi Ndhlovu’s book Zandi’s Song is a gorgeous celebration of the ocean’s beauty. It’s a wonderful way to introduce them to nature and an inspirational South African.
If your inner child is feeling left out artist, Zanele Muholi launched their dot-by-dot colouring book Connect the Dots. It’s a limited-edition publication and, like all of Muholi’s work, is likely to become collectable. Remember, I am celebrating my birthday all year long 😉
After a series of shows in some of the world’s most prestigious museums, Muholi has launched a new body of work in Cape Town. You can read my amateur musings here and here and see the art here. If you’re in Cape Town over the next six weeks, see the show, you will be richer for it.
I am fully booked for July, but I have two openings for new clients in August. If you’d like to work with me, you can learn more about my coaching practice here, and follow me on LinkedIn and Instagram.
/ strategy
We shape our world with the words we use.
Our words shape our sense of possibility. A day can be cosy and romantic, or wet and miserable. A book challenging or educational or both.
Words influence how people respond to us and we to them.
And yet, despite their power, we are rarely taught how to use them.
‘Effective communication’ is in almost every job spec, but the how isn’t.
The assumption is that we should know how. The reality, of course, is that no-one taught us. We learn from good and bad examples. We say that some people have a way with words. The rest of us muddle along.
Jonah Berger’s recently published Magic Words is a fantastic guide to which words have what impact in which context.
As with most things in life, there is no magic, one-size-fits-all solution, but he shows how the right word in the right context can and do make a difference.
Imagine that a friend comes to you with a dilemma. Invariably they ask, ‘what should I do?’
Berger explains, “Shoulds are great for resolving questions of right and wrong. Whether to lie, cheat, or steal, even if it doesn’t seem like a big deal and no one else will find out.
Thinking about what one should do in these situations reminds us of our moral compass. It encourages us to think about what we “ought” to do, and in so doing, helps us choose the morally right path”.
But often the decisions that we need to take are not about clear-cut moral trade-offs, they’re more about balancing various objectives and exploring different possibilities.
In these situations, ‘should’ is not that useful. It traps us in a binary choice – A or B – and we then settle for the least undesirable option, ignoring the many other options open to us.
So, when your friend comes to you, turn their should into a could.
Ask them what they think they could do. Could is creative. Could moves you from binary thinking into a world of possibilities.
Berger says “Stuck on a tough problem? Want to be more creative or encourage creativity in others? Foster a could mindset. Rather than thinking about what should be done, ask what could be done instead. Doing so encourages us and others to take agency, consider new paths, and turn roadblocks into opportunities”.
Of course, the same applies to you. When next you’re facing a decision, don’t ask what should do, ask what you could do.
If improving your communication skills interests you, these letters will help.
/ self
Writing helps you remember.
Why?
Stanford University neuroscientist, Andrew Huberman explains “… the process of writing by hand is a powerful tool to aid your learning and memory…This likely has to do with the fact that our motor cortex and limbs evolved using fine dexterity-whole limb movement as a key source of feedback about the accuracy of our memories. In fact, even just drawing a diagram that summarizes information and makes sense only to you can greatly enhance your recall of that information”.
Add that reflection is a powerful tool for improving performance and you have a compelling reason to keep a diary.
Spending just five minutes writing about what went well in the day and what and who enabled those outcomes, will give you a performance dividend.
Spending an extra five minutes on what didn’t go as well as you would’ve liked and what you could (not should!) have done differently will give you even more effectiveness.
Stuck for time? Alternate between them. One good day. One could day.
/ soul
I loved Ayọ̀bámi Adébáyọ̀’s debut novel Stay with Me, set in marriage beset by the heartache of life.
I return often to these words “If the burden is too much and stays too long, even love bends, cracks, comes close to breaking and sometimes does break. But even when it’s in a thousand pieces around your feet, that doesn’t mean it’s no longer love.”
Her new novel, A Spell of Good Things, was published earlier this year. Here Adébáyọ̀’s canvas is wider. It is not immediately apparent, but she uses inequality and corruption, the entitlement and blindness it spawns, and their brutal consequences, first as a thread to weave her protagonists together, and then the threads snake together to form a noose.
Eniolá’s father has given up on life. A former teacher, he lost his job when a politician declared literature and history to be irrelevant to the nation’s future. He lies in bed whilst his children are beaten every day for unpaid school fees.
On the other side of town, Yèyé is preparing for her fiftieth birthday celebrations.
Married to a former military man with lucrative government contracts, she now lives a luxurious life and yet she has “never been able to shake the sense that life was war, a series of battles with the occasional spell of good things.”
In the novel’s opening pages, a vendor warns Eniolá “don’t choose to be unfortunate”, but as the opposing forces of hunger and dreams tighten, his choices become fewer.
Adébáyọ̀ coils violence beneath the pages from her opening words. The humiliation of being spat on, the sudden controlling violence when a boyfriend becomes a fiancé, the glint of a knife, the warnings of a corrupt politician surrounded by enforcers. It’s all there.
A wobbly plank, across an open gutter, leads into the dressmaker’s store. We wait for a fall that never comes. And then it does.
Anne Lamott once wrote “In general, though, there’s no point in writing hopeless novels. We all know we’re going to die; what’s important is the kind of men and women we are in the face of this.”
Adébáyọ̀ leaves us with little hope and that has me worried.
She is not the only author this year who has chosen not to write of hope.
Perhaps that is her point, if we do not confront what is, we will have no reason to hope.
She shows us that there can be no pretence, that a world that does not care, does not care, and embedded in that is a call to action, to care, because if we don’t, it won’t. Ultimately, Adébáyọ̀ challenges us to write a better ending.
As always it enriching to be with you. I hope that you have a wonderful week.
Love,
Karl
