New York City Rhythm

Arriving in the city – trying to find the city rhythm

A bit like how pieces of music have tempo, so does this post. I find it’s best read allegro, with a moderato finish.

Leaving behind a sunny London – coming into a rainy New York City.

Plane people disembarking, border control scanning, stamping and waving, luggage carouseling, trolley wheel wobbling, taxi driver smiling. A phone call home from the back of the cab is just perfect.

Sitting in Starbucks on the corner of 87th and 3rd, waiting for an unknown person and some apartment keys. The key master is late, the banter with the staff and the cappuccino is warm, and the people come and go. I believe the keys will come and I’m slightly twitchy after the long flight and I want to get downtown. Places to go, people to see. Exchanging texts with apartment owner and friend downtown.

Keys in hand, tiny apartment entered, bag dropped. Subway. Hot, humid and busy. Struggling to get my bearings it takes time to realise I am on the local (slow) train platform. Down another level – onto the express. Deeper down, hotter, sweatier. Change at Union Square – tiny statues all over the station bringing memories flooding back, familiar ground. I turn a corner and there’s the guy on the drum kit again, bashing out train rhythms as people come and go. He was here the last time I was here two years ago, familiarity levels rising, confidence returning, pace quickening. Click clack, paradiddle, click clack paradiddle. Hot.

Spat out at 8th street into a warm, wet night. Find the White Horse….where’s the White Horse? Looking for Hudson Street, misty rain, plenty of people moving with purpose, and me. I ask where – they don’t know. I keep going and with a couple of nudges via text, I find the White Horse. More importantly I find Katie. Friends in London, a chance meeting thousands of miles from home. We talk work, life, travels, politics, music. We drink a beer, Katie tells me the White Horse is where Dylan Thomas ended it all in a sea of alcohol. She heads off to a concert, I order a grilled cheese sandwich, watch college football and have another beer. The sandwich and the beer went down a treat. I can’t write poetry like Dylan Thomas but I’m confident I’m getting out of here alive.

The rain stops, I walk back up Hudson Street avoiding puddles and taking in the atmosphere. Tempted to just throw myself into West Village nightlife, and tired enough to know that wouldn’t be a good idea. It’s almost 10 pm by my watch, and 3 am by my body clock. A quieter, slightly less steamy tube ride syncs wonderfully into place. Sliding doors and all that. Nearly home, I spy a Barnes and Noble bookshop, still open. I go in and wander about, watching staff restack and restock books. I think I am the only customer, except I’m not buying anything so a little awkwardly, I sneak out. Maybe I’m just tired, but there’s something uplifting about finding a book shop open, doing its thing at 10.15 on a saturday night.

And so to bed. I love it here.

Label Free Zone

New York

In the run up to last week’s Unconference, Tim Casswell and I were talking about the toys we were going to play with, or if you prefer, some methods we were going to utilise (yawn).

Guests at the event had been invited to prepare Pecha Kuchas as a way of seeding some ideas into the day, and we were going to use the World Café method to facilitate conversations.

Tim was railing against the processes, saying something like ‘This Pecha Kucha stuff is too restrictive, artists don’t like being told what to do’, and ‘Who cares that it’s called a World Café? Naming all this stuff just means you Doug, have to waste time explaining to people that they are going to hear a few short talks and have some great conversations!’

I take Tim’s point about a Pecha Kucha being restrictive, given that once you press play, your slides (all 20 of them) are each on screen for 20 seconds before autoforwarding to the next one. It’s extreme sports for presenters and though not for everyone, I think this method is very helpful in encouraging people to get a point across quite quickly. So we kind of agreed to disagree on this one.

The point about naming stuff though – that was a lightbulb moment for me. ‘OK Tim’ I said, ‘Tomorrow will be a label free zone’, and between us, we worked hard to make it so. I confess the term Pecha Kucha did creep in once or twice but not a mention of World Café, just conversations. And it worked – powerfully.

I think we have a tendency to over-complicate stuff. I’m not sure why, maybe it’s a sense of insecurity that convinces us that our work has to be tricky to understand, and so helps ensure our survival in the workplace hierarchy? Simplification strikes me as really powerful, simplification breaks down barriers. If we take last week’s event as an example I believe one of the reasons people responded to the opportunity so positively was that it we made any process very simple to understand.

That simplification left everyone’s brains free to respond to the much more interesting and useful challenges like defining ‘Why are we here today?’ ‘What do we want to talk about?’ ‘How are we going to make today’s conversations into tomorrow’s reality?’ None of these are easy questions to answer but thanks to an uncomplicated and largely label free approach, I think we helped make it easier for people to engage with something more meaningful to them.


I’m catching up on some reading and this post on The Future of L&D by David Goddin caught my eye. In the post, David says that ‘The opportunity is for the L&D function to engage more consultatively with the business’. I agree, and though I’m biased I think this is why a sales background can be so useful in business. Great sales people inherently ‘get’ the consultative approach, and so from the start appreciate the critical importance of relationships.

We often hear people use phrases like ‘I can relate to Sophie because she talks my language’, and I think that understanding is best forged from a balance of taking the time to understand the other person’s business/perspective/environment, and keeping things simple. This second point is less well practiced, and the comments in David’s blog posts are well worth a read as they dig into this area in more detail.

The simplicity of work matters.

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