"Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity." — Simone Weil
image by ChatGPT
"I'm not going to let it happen."
For a moment, I couldn't quite believe I was saying those words to someone who had been my mentor for many years.
He had told me stories about several founders he'd worked with in the past, and how those relationships had eventually ended in a falling out. I had begun to sense that he expected the same thing to happen between us.
So I reminded him briefly of those earlier incidents and told him what I thought was happening. His fear of another falling out seemed to be influencing how he was dealing with me. And some of those very actions could end up damaging the relationship he wanted to protect.
That's when I told him I wasn't going to let that happen.
He choked up. He took a sip of water to gather himself. He told me how deeply touched he was that I'd recognized something he hadn't said aloud, connected it to his past experiences, and had the courage to bring it up.
Neither of us had anticipated how much that conversation would affect us.
The Stories We Carry
We've written often about using stories in presentations, pitches and meetings. But some of our most consequential conversations at work happen between just two people: a manager giving difficult feedback, two colleagues trying to resolve a disagreement, a founder talking to an investor or an adviser.
In a conversation between two people, the stories that matter may already have been told.
In these situations, we often know quite a bit about the other person's experiences. They've told us about decisions they've made, setbacks they've encountered, or people they've worked with. Sometimes those stories can help us understand what lies behind a position they're taking today.
That was the case with my mentor. We were looking at the same stories and drawing different conclusions. He seemed to see a pattern that might repeat itself. I saw a fear that could, quite unintentionally, help make it repeat.
I could have simply told him that I was unhappy with some of his actions. Instead, recalling those earlier stories helped me explain why I thought he was acting that way, and why I was concerned about where it might lead. I suspect it also helped him understand that I'd been paying attention to more than what he was saying in that particular conversation.
Of course, we need to be careful. Our interpretation of someone else's experience may be wrong. And there's a difference between helping someone examine a pattern and using their past against them. It helped that I offered mine as what I thought was happening, and that we had known each other for many years. Even so, I was fortunate that my mentor recognized what I was trying to say.
Try This Week
Think of a difficult one-on-one conversation you need to have.
Go back through what they've told you. Has the other person ever shared an experience that might help you understand their position today?
Bring it up as something you've noticed. "You once told me about… I wonder if that's part of what's happening here." If you'd be raising it to win the argument, leave it out.
Ask whether they see it too. If they say you've read it wrong, take their word for it.
You might find that a story they've already told you helps you have a conversation neither of you quite knew how to begin.
From Elsewhere
In Māori tradition, kaitiakitanga is the practice of guardianship: a person or group is entrusted with the care of a particular lake or forest. The underlying idea is that people are part of the natural world, with no claim to stand above it. Practising it today is also a way of honouring the responsibilities and hopes of one's ancestors. More on kaitiakitanga here »