Self-knowledge, latte-slurping, and the joy of not being alone

I'm a consultant. A close friend calls me an Insultant. Or a CONsultant. Both of which are spoken in jest and which I think are funny.

I'm fresh off two related things: 1) A string of particularly fun off-sites I was privileged to facilitate for clients; 2) Helpful new self-knowledge. They are related. Let me explain.

"Life is a team sport" as Patrick Lencioni likes to say. Work is a team sport. It's easy in theory, hard in practice. Because it takes humility and self-sacrifice: I don't always get what I want; I will be challenged by the work and by my team; I may have to give way to others and their ideas. But on a healthy team, these are as fruitful as they are difficult. Because there is great beauty in not being alone, in being our "brother's keeper," in sharing responsibility for noble work. The fun off-sites I mentioned involved impressive people getting courageously honest as they pursued important work together.

Allow me to get a little historical-philosophical.

Since the time of Descarte and the Enlightenment, in the West we've prioritized reason and personal autonomy. There are some good elements to this: technological progress, improved working conditions (in some places), and personal responsibility to name a few. But there's a massive downside: de facto isolation and diminished joy. How so? Because we are often too alone. And the isolation usually occurs even though we're around other people a lot, at home and at work. We're not truly living and working with others, on real teams.

I once worked with an African man on a (Canadian) team I consulted to. He talked about how in his home country, when one did something seriously wrong, the community approached the transgression communally. You had offended a person, yes. But also the community in which you live. And thus restoration--which was beautifully always available to the contrite--had a communal dimension. How beautiful. How human.

In the West we tend to think that our performance, our mistakes, and our identity are only ours. And of course they are: I am responsible for my actions. And yet we do not, and should not, live and work in isolation. We need others. Teamwork is beautiful.

Now to latte-slurping. Recently I was having coffee with my beautiful wife on our deck. Amidst casual catch-up conversation she asked, "Hey love, do you know that you slurp your latte?" To which I said, "No." Do you, dear reader, think I wish to be a latte-slurper? No. Do you think I was aware of this behavior? Nope. Had I probably been doing it for years? Yes. Did I need my wife to point it out in order to see it? Yup. And so she did, and since then I've been grateful and am trying to kick the habit. (Studies will tell you that latte-slurping is unhelpful to a flourishing life.)

One of the particularly powerful thing about real teamwork is that you can help each other see latte-slurping blindspots, and truly serve each other with the rare gift of honest feedback. Without which many of us would continue on with habits that don't help, that annoy, that can even destroy.

Teamwork is beautiful. Feedback is beautiful. Truly working with others brings joy. Give it a shot.