Whim of the Week... Fundamental Feedback

I returned home from a business trip once to find my car parked in a different spot. Drawing the logical conclusion that my neighbour (who’s land my car and caravan/house is parked upon) must have moved it to mow the lawns. Since they were outside setting fence posts at that time, I sauntered over for a yarn and asked them how they liked driving my new wheels… a newly minted and very sexy Mitsubishi Eclipse Cross PHEV named ‘Phe’ (short for Phoenix) in diamond red. Unexpectedly the response to my benign query was a string of curses, and I laughed heartily listening to the frustrated tale that eventually emerged through the profanities... colourfully describing their attempt to move 'the damned thing' since the electric engine is completely silent and they couldn’t tell if it was on or not. ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ‘‚๐Ÿ‘Ž๐Ÿ˜‚
I've loved few things as much as I love Phe... ๐Ÿ’–

The giggling continued as I hopped into my beautiful Phe-Phe to move her back into her normal plug in posi on the other side of the caravan, named ‘Nix’ in case anyone is curious (yes, also short for Phoenix... I love a theme ๐Ÿฆ). I got the immediate and distinct ‘sense’ that she had certainly not been started up, moved, and/or re-parked in anything resembling the correct sequence. And full disclosure, by ‘sense’ I mean Phe ‘told’ me in a very playful and comical way because, I am not now, nor have I ever been, normal… Cars have always ‘talked’ to me; a fact I know but am otherwise unable to convince my logically skeptical brain to believe (...elucidated a bit further below ๐Ÿ‘Œ). There was objective evidence accompanying this sense as well, the brake pedal was harder than normal to depress and the steering wheel was locked… Still chuckling, I delighted in my neighbour’s frustration and pondered, in my esoteric way, why had they gotten so riled up? ๐Ÿ‡๐Ÿค”

The next morning on the row machine it came to me, as so many epiphanies do… FEEDBACK! My neighbour is a professional agriculture machinery engineer, literally traveling the World to design, create and drive heavy ag equipment, it naturally follows that... 
  1. They’re used to loud diesel motors that immediately give them direct feedback that they are running and ready to go. 
  2. They’re extremely adept at fixing complex motor issues, and this lack of feedback must have provoked the pain of ineptitude… without the sound of an engine, they were now in unchartered territories, having to learn something new on the fly.
No Noise/Sound = No Feedback = Confusion, Frustration and Other Icky Emotions

In a flash this seemingly trivial occurence reaffirmed what has been true during my own adventure, as well as being a main topic of conversations in my role as a leadership development and high performance facilitator… feedback is essential for performance and improvement, and it comes in many forms from blatantly obvious to extremely sneaky and subtle (i.e. diesel motor versus electric motor).

The rhythmic rowing guided my introspective reflections on how my version of the electric motor issue manifests in my life, and it didn’t take long for the answer to arrive… online facilitation! When I facilitate workshops in person I’m damn-near unshakable, I can deal with all manner of weird and wonderful disturbances… late or absent participants (both physically and mentally), tech issues, extremely unexpected or challenging shifts in the conversation, or disruptive behaviours; I’m a confident verbal and non-verbal communicator. I pride myself on my adaptability and the ease with which I can seamlessly and inconspicuously course correct. Yet that tenacity flies out the virtual window as soon as I switch over to an online format. Since we learn by reflecting and not by doing, the reason underpinning this discrepancy elucidated me until I considered my neighbours conundrum and compared it to my own… I, like my neighbour, wasn’t getting the FEEDBACK I was used to receiving from a room full of warm bodies... feedback I required to feel fully competent and resilient. ๐Ÿ’ก๐Ÿ’ฅ

As someone who identifies as an Empath, I’m alive with the vibes in the room and getting constant verbal and non-verbal feedback; a shift, a sigh, eyes narrowed in concentration, a cheeky smile, nods, a lean in with mouth agape cuing me that someone has something to say, or a slouch down in avoidance… it’s all happening simultaneously and its all feedback, I just ‘read’ it faster than my conscious mind can process so I hadn’t been perceiving it that way. Compare that to the virtual vacuum of online calls and I’m literally flying blind. To compensate and get the feedback I need I have to focus on each video individually instead of reading the entire room at once, I must ask more questions to draw out verbal feedback that I would typically get without words, and listen carefully for their tone as well. It’s maddening, and it takes a lot more energy. My capacity to handle setbacks is of course eroded, I literally have less energy to spend troubleshooting and it takes longer to do so... Maddening I say! 

A Note About Whimsical Non-Auditory Bio-Feedback
For those who are uncomfortable with the spiritual aspects of the noun Empath, know that one half of my brain empathises (hehe! ๐Ÿ˜…)… My scientific and naturally skeptical brain hemisphere spent much of my youth demanding the opposite hemisphere experiencing the emotions of others was downright crazy. This was one of the main contributors to my constant anxiety. There’s nothing like a ceaseless internal battle between cognitive hemispheres do drive inner turmoil and self doubt! ๐Ÿ’ฉ๐Ÿ˜ณ

The good news for all of us is that there is a perfectly rational explanation! As humans I think we often forget that WE ARE ANIMALS, and the science is clear… animals communicate non-verbally. Whether it’s a dog partaking in a nose-to-bum ‘meet and greet,’ an army of ants following that curiously straight-lined pheromone-guided path home, the mischievous look a cat dons right before it pushes something off a countertop, or two Homo habilis having a perfectly loving and functional relationship without the perceived ‘benefits’ of language; we communicate non-verbally far more than we do verbally. The difference is that instead of relying on words, we ‘hear’ with our eyes, our nose, our touch and even through all manner of crazy ass receptions covering our body that detect shit we can’t see... Hell, the sun doesn't need to scream 'GOOD MORNING' for us to wake at dawn as photons begin to tickle our eyelids (at least that's what would happen if we didn't elect to have our phones bellow ringtones at us ๐Ÿ”Š). 

So, am I 'hearing' my car bad-mouth my neighbour, ‘feeling’ someone else’s emotions, and 'reading' someone's energy through an enigmatic spiritual magic? Or am I downloading my car's objective data faster than my brain can comprehend, and detecting some sort of invisible chemical emitted by a person's body and combining that with their posture and breathing rate? I have no clue… but remaining OPEN to all possibilities is how I keep my hemispheres balanced and maintain the peace between all my intelligence centres.

What feedback is someone or something trying to give you?

What ‘noisy’ feedback might you need to give when your ‘silent’ feedback isn’t working?

What is the difference between being an Empath, versus someone experiencing Empathy, versus someone who DISPLAYS Empathy (but may not actually feel it)?


Original Publication Date 12 November 2023

Whim of the Week... Introduction


What to do when I’m keen to write something, anything really, to cultivate and reinforce my habit of creative expression through writing and sate my passion for drip-feeding inane introspective perspectives to my wee beloved audience [sometimes just me ๐Ÿ™‹‍♀️], but grossly underestimate the amount of time I realistically need to publish a new fully fleshed out article? I invent a new type of literary work! ๐Ÿ‡๐Ÿ“š

I have sooo many compositions in my Heart and Head, a backlog I lovingly and longingly refer to as 'the graveyard' that's accumulated over the last 6-7 years. I always start my weekend thinking… ‘Yes, this is the weekend to finally get to [INSERT TITLE], I can certainly smash that out in one weekend!’... then I realise these works take time and effort, and that I have the attention span of a butterfly on LSD, and I’m also prone to distracting myself with menial tasks instead of down-shifting into my creative space… Why one may ask? It’s either my brain trying to conserve the energy it takes me to create because that type of thinking doesn’t come naturally to me (i.e. What Agatha refers to as ‘laziness’ in her quote), or I’m a self-sabotaging masochist… it’s quite difficult to tell which at times; I reckon the ratio changes on any given weekend and that ratio is also impacted with how much cheesecake I’ve over-indulged in, which in turn effects my energy levels… Ah, we’re such complex animals us humans! ๐Ÿ˜…๐Ÿคท‍♀️


All that to say my innovative solution to this existential conundrum is: Whim of the Week.... Something easily concocted and digested that I can publish to stay connected to my lexiconical zeal, and keep us all engaged with the challenging yet rewarding work of re-wiring our lizard brain; because, bless it, it will otherwise keep us focused on fear, threat and/or survival instead of gratitude, abundance and thrival. And yes, that's a real word... I have proof!

Ok, so why 'Whim' of the week? As my readers may well guess... no word in any of my posts is chosen lightly, each one is deliberate (i.e. thrival ๐Ÿ˜‡). Just read these definitions... oh yeah, not only is the label 'Whim of the Week' delightfully alliterative, but good-god if this isn't a bit of me! ๐Ÿ˜…๐Ÿ‡๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ’–๐ŸŽฏ
... a the definition for Capricious, because I honestly didn't know what that meant... ๐Ÿ‘€๐Ÿ‘ˆ

The nature of 'the Whim' I express will change each week of course, so in-line with the definitions above I cannot foreshadow what to expect, but what would be the fun in that anyway?! It might be some esoteric meme I thought up while on the stairmaster, an uplifting thought teased out of my Body during yogic practice, a phenomenally outlandish dream I had, or like today, something that sparked a memory. ๐Ÿ’ฅ๐Ÿง 

Being the Halloween-Spooky time of the year, the Unexpected Elements podcast I frequent mentioned Cryptids, and hinted that they may well have found their origins in passive aggressive parenting deterrent tactics to keep their kids well-away from unsafe practices... 

Suddenly there I was... about 11 years old... hoofing it along a long stretch of the country road I grew up on, Dog Hill Road, walking the two miles to my friends’ house. Just before climbing the final hill to my bestie's place I traverse a very flat stretch of land flanked by marshy wetlands. I quicken my pace as my heart begins to pound and I feel afraid… hoping like hell to avoid the swamp monster my Mother insisted inhabited this area… a swamp monster who nabbed little girls stupid enough to strike out on their own. ๐Ÿ˜‰


As an adult hard on the heels on my fourth decade I pause now to consider why I took the chance despite that fear. I was quite gullible and I do remember thinking there was an appreciable chance this monster would indeed abduct me, yet I was quite determined nonetheless… Here’s what immediately comes to mind without over-analysing it...
  • I was quite the little dissident, I didn’t like being told where and where-not to go ๐Ÿ–•
  • I was at least 36% certain the swamp monster wasn’t an actual threat... I realise it sounds horrible, but thanks to my childhood obesity I always felt a bit protected from being an easy target (something I confrontingly discerned much later... like last year... lay at the root cause of said girth)  ๐Ÿ˜ณ
  • Mostly, and perhaps most importantly, I wanted to see my friend and spend time with her despite the risk… otherwise I’d be on my own all day long ๐Ÿ‘ญ๐Ÿ’ž
Now I realise what this seemingly inconsequential anecdote tells me about my inner values, and they’re true to form to this very day. I take risks to protect my sense of independence and prioritise my relationships. As a classically trained scientist, I also value data and each time I took that risk and walked that stretch of road without being sucked into the swamp by an elusive beast, I had more evidence that the risk wasn’t real... Holy shit, until I wrote that I didn't fully realise that my admiration for experimentation and the accumulation of resulting data manifested so young, possibly foretelling future career choices. ๐Ÿค“๐Ÿงช

What profound insights are your stories and prevailing memories telling you? ๐Ÿ‡๐Ÿ’ก


Original Publication Date 05 November 2023