The other morning, I found myself standing still in my kitchen, mesmerized by the milk frother, frothing away on the countertop. Normally, I multitask, I unload the dishwasher, check my iPhone for any blowups. But for whatever reason, that morning I decided to just remain still and watch the frother do its thing. I was amazed by how that tiny little metal mechanism turned my flat, watery almond milk into a frothy fluff that was at least doubled in volume. In fact, it was growing so fluffy I worried it might go full Stay Puft Marshmallow Man on me, so I hit the “cancel” button. Immediately, the fluffy, frothing milk settled down, reducing in size. Relieved to have avoided a kitchen disaster, I suddenly noticed … the quiet.

I was out walking with my dog recently, enjoying a glorious summer morning. I was high as a kite on caffeine, taking in everything along our path with gratitude and wonder. In this heightened emotional state, I came upon a delightful little fairy garden someone had artfully planted in their front lawn. There was a painted rock in the mix, with the inscription: “ENJOY TIME” I stood there wondering, Is this a mistranslation from another language where they’re trying to say “It’s time to enjoy life!”? Or is it an intentional message, an exhortation that we ought to enjoy TIME itself??

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.