problem-solving.rocks

MI TIERRA

Wed, 15 May 2024 01:56:46 -0700

It is 2 AM – time to get up for work. I wash my face and carefully descend the white marble staircase to make coffee. Coffee is different here, thick as tar and with a hint of petrol in the aroma.

I contemplate the pitch black night through the kitchen window before turning the lights on. Here, night falls in mere seconds, at 6pm sharp every day, rushing towards the valley like a disoriented animal, turning everything sticky solid until morning.

It is the start of the workday in Europe, several hours ahead. I tick off my work items, and at 6am Ibarra time, when colleagues in France leave for lunch, I put on my running shoes. I also reapply makeup, make sure I have my earrings on and check my reflection in the mirror – running, like every other activity in Ecuador, is an opportunity to socialize with friends and relatives, and people pay attention to how they and their counterparts look and dress.

They call it White City because of the white-painted facades in the colonial-style town center. I love peeking inside the little shops and cafés, nestled in narrow streets, hiding from the sun. At breakfast time, the restaurants burst with early coffee drinkers. But I look at them from a car.

I am told I cannot walk in the streets of Ibarra, not even in the middle of the day. Walking, like running, is a carefully orchestrated activity that is always done in groups. I keep challenging the safety rules, but the locals shake their heads, not saying much, in the typical, no-gossip communication style I have learned to love. They never speak aloud of danger, as if saying it out loud could bring bad luck. ‘It is better in the car’, they say with a smile.

Nothing seems safer to me than this city, especially during the day. There is only one season all year: an eternal breezy...Read More

THE REUNION

Mon, 25 Sep 2023 00:24:39 -0700

I remember, back when the world was barely getting used to pronouncing ‘two thousand eleven’ without missing a beat, we were already dropping the year 2013 into conversations thanks to our class tag. In 2011, hearing the dean say ‘class of 2013’ provoked an exciting dissonance in my head, like déjà vu. We were getting ready for the future while immersing ourselves in a mixture of business science, which the school knew how to conduct and explain; and soft skills – some of which, frankly, I did not even know the names of at that time.

Professors with seemingly inexhaustible energy were able to decode not only the world surrounding us but also ourselves, interpreting our behaviour to us in real time in the classroom.

In the breaks between classes, we were running between lecture theatres, stocking up on salted nuts and coffee, lamenting over the pile of articles we would somehow have to read by the next day.

The future was bright.

And it came way too soon.

It is 2023 today.

* * * * * * *

I have not been back to the UK in a long time. But whenever I’ve gone, it’s felt like going home. Everything is familiar. I can take long walks from Canary Wharf to Regent’s Park and not get lost once. The school has the same welcome desk and the greenest front lawn I have ever seen, with the coolest garden chairs scattered around when the sun is out; if you are in luck, you can spot the dean himself, greeting current and former students in the open space.

The building bears a characteristic aroma, a mixture of cleaning products and the brain fumes of generations of students, reinventing the world. I can see myself and my classmates sitting around the tables in...Read More

The road trip

Tue, 09 May 2023 00:00:09 -0700

I hit the road in August 2022 for what would be one of my most memorable journeys on a bicycle. Even before I set my foot on the pedal, I knew I would want to write about it after I got back.

But then, suddenly, I lost my ability to write for a couple of months. Daily life became silent and unresponsive; time – a skilled medic, capable of drawing stark lines between before and after – gave no respite. Days were passing by, turning into weeks and months. And still no words.

Finally, after a time of reset, on one crisp morning the inspiration came again.

For me, writing is a profoundly personal act. My ability to find words to put on paper depends on how I am with myself, with those around me, with my work. I always write from the same place – that of awe for life and gratitude for being able to live it. This does not mean I am always in that place to begin with: I am human, with my own set of emotions, difficulties and fears – like anyone else. But when I write, it is from a place of love and fullness. I do not need anything, nor am I asking for anything, when I write. I create for the precious, fleeting instant a breath goes into the lungs and out again.

Germany was a treat. I took the road after several years of hiatus imposed by my entrepreneurial passions. But it was time to pause: the activity of problem-solving.rocks had continued to double nearly every year since its founding, and after some time, I was ready to take a break. So I headed to the beautiful region of Hesse, and more precisely to Frankfurt. From there I headed north for over 1,000 km.

Germany is not foreign to me. Some of my best friends live there, and I’ve had numerous opportunities to visit and to cycle there – check out the amazing itineraries along the Elbe and Rhine rivers, for...Read More

FLOOD

Mon, 07 Nov 2022 01:21:00 -0800

Ever since I first set foot in a university lecture hall, I’ve held onto the belief that education is our greatest defence against misery and suffering. Even if I cannot fix everything in this world, I can fight for good changes, using my voice in education to spur action. My conscience was thus clear, or so I thought.

I have several friends who care deeply about stopping climate change. They have been vocal in private conversations and on social media. Yet, I did not listen to them attentively. Despite the urgency of their rhetoric, I did not see an immediate threat to humans or other living organisms from climate change: I contrasted it with war, in which I could hear stranded children crying for their mothers, feeling my soul tear apart as I witnessed the horror. Nor was it like seeing animals suffer in traffic across borders. Climate change is more subdued.

I also thought that those fighting against climate change lacked an educational approach: I heard urgency backed by increasingly alarming data, flooding the media space without consensus on solutions. This way of raising awareness of the subject seemed unproductive: what could I do right now to address climate change with most effect?

The response was not unequivocal.

Imagine an ‘ordinary’ person who lives in the city, takes a bus to work most weekdays or works from home, cares enough to separate recyclables from trash and incorporates environmental concerns in their decisions before making a purchase or taking a flight.

What is the single most significant action this person could take, right now, to help stop global warming?

Use more public transport? Travel by bicycle? Switch off the lights more often? How often?...Read More

Wholeness

Thu, 28 Jul 2022 05:44:19 -0700

Alex is an entrepreneur and a business partner I have worked with for some years. I have always admired his ability to perceive clearly through noise and cut to the chase. That clear-sightedness and how he brings it to work is one of the reasons I look forward to speaking with him.

A couple of weeks ago we were sitting on a terrace - Alex was savouring the wine he had just ordered for himself, a smile illuminating his face. He was telling me about the pleasure of spending money again: he had just closed his company after five years in business and thanks to a freshly signed full-time contract, he could indulge again.

He shared how he had stopped feeling guilty because his family patiently tolerated his business endeavours while his wife carried most of the household’s financial burden. As he gazed over the river before him, glass of wine in his hand, his heart was finally light.

In the years in which he ran his business, Alex wrote and published a book, came up with clever training and skills development products and developed a network of well-known clients. Yet here he was, toasting his new full-time job.

He had said on more than one occasion that while he loved the entrepreneurial process and the creative freedom it brought, he did not enjoy the commercial side of the business and was not good at sales.

Alex is just one example: in the aftermath of the pandemic, a number of the entrepreneurs in my circle took the decision to close down. And most provided the same narrative as Alex to explain why they were going back to the type of jobs they had once left. As they see it, they are not good at selling.

Consequently, I’ve given the topic of ‘selling as a small business’ some thought.

The concept of sales needs...Read More

Apprendre à Apprendre

Thu, 30 Jun 2022 06:11:43 -0700

Je reconnaîtrais la rue Baker parmi toutes les rues du monde. Le restaurant L’Ulivo se situait
auparavant à droite, juste après la sortie du métro londonien. Juste à côté, à gauche, se trouvait un salon de manucure. De l’autre côté de la rue, une queue patientait pour visiter le Musée Sherlock Holmes. A côté du musée, le Volunteer Pub se distinguait avec ses couleurs camouflage.
Un peu plus loin dans la rue, on aperçoit cet immeuble en briques rouges et son emblématique logo bleu et rouge. Je me vois m’y diriger, pendant presque deux ans, ma tête pleine de rêves et, dans mon for intérieur, ce sentiment de bonheur de ce que j’étais en train de vivre.
Lorsque je suis arrivée à la London Business School pour commencer mon EMBA, j’étais loin
d’imaginer l’impact que l’école et sa communauté foisonnante de professeurs, d’étudiants et d’alumni auraient sur moi. J’étais plutôt introvertie, peu adepte de banalités, mais une fière détentrice d’un diplôme en psychologie et une décennie d’expérience dans les assurances et la santé. Pour continuer à gravir les échelons professionnels en management, j’estimais qu’il était temps de troquer mes bouquins de psycho pour une formation plus « business ». Je suis venue à la LBS pour son programme en management.
J’étais loin d’imaginer que ce que j’apprendrais à la LBS était avant toute chose une capacité à comprendre l’humain.
Au cours de mes 15 mois à la LBS, j’ai étudié le marketing, la finance et l’entrepreneuriat. J’ai échangé avec des professeurs et des camarades de classe. J’ai été à Dubaï et à Beijing, j’ai travaillé sur des projets internationaux et ai participé à des évènements aux côtés de sommités.
L’élément qui, indéniablement, a eu le plus d’impact sur moi était la communauté : un groupe international et brillant...Read More

Part IV - Freedom

Mon, 14 Mar 2022 06:14:50 -0700

In previous chapters:
Sarah joined TESSA & Co., a training and consulting company with EUR 4M yearly turnover, as marketing director shortly before the onset of the pandemic. Just as she was getting to know her team, the virus hit. As result, all activity except executive coaching stopped, threatening to bring the company down. Now, Vincent, the CEO, and his leadership team are sprinting to save the business.
9pm
The only sound that resonated in the winter night was the rhythmic clap of Sarah’s running shoes hitting the dark pavement. This was her 18th run this month, the longest streak she had achieved so far. She was so proud. In her lungs, the air was heavy with moisture; in her ears were her favourite songs - on repeat. This was more than a run. It was a rebirth, every step of the effort bringing her back to herself, closer to who she was.
Otherwise, she started losing the sense of who she was. Insidiously and without warning, like a tiny wrinkle forming on smooth skin, her life in its current online version was suffocating her. So she slipped out every evening into the often-chilly outdoors, and by the time she got back, she was drenched in rain and sweat, the cold of the night pouring over her like thick molasses, overpowering, numbing every other feeling except the one of feeling alive again.
10am
Sarah had always been good at relationships. But the never-ending online interactions, with everyone reduced to a tiny icon on the screen, made her doubt her ability to read the room.
In addition, on her team and in her friends’ circles, she noted exhaustion. People were tired of how the rules shifted constantly: whether it was possible to travel, to go to the office, see friends, go for a stroll in the park. There was also...Read More

What it's like to have a mentor

Sun, 17 Oct 2021 20:50:48 -0700

In my experience, the mentor-mentee relationship forms and flourishes through a process. First, there is the encounter: the equivalent of professional love at first sight. Then, the relationship is tested and tried over time by events happening around it, and if the mentee and mentor can get past those bumps in the road, trust emerges. Next, because mentors prove time and time again that their perception is accurate, the connection is sealed.
Finally, if the mentee and mentor care about the relationship long enough, a phenomenon occurs: the internalization of the mentor’s perspective.
From that point on, the mentor’s worldview lives permanently “inside” the mentee, and can be called upon to provide advice, to self or to others. When the posture of the mentor is internalized, mentees are ready to give back to the community and nurture the next generation of mentees in “pay it forward” mode.
The encounter
I was barely out of university when I met Susan^✷, who headed the small but vibrant office of an international service firm. A seasoned executive in her 40s, Susan spent most of her time on clients’ premises. When she was in the office, she exuded conviction that could move mountains and a fierce sense of purpose.
Ruthlessly anti-corporate, she fought her own leaders for causes that mattered to her, yet was devoted to the business. This approach gained her a certain street cred with clients and ultimately, with us, her team. She excelled at sales in a way I had never seen anywhere before. Susan’s ability to sell – a complex, intricate people skill – was at full display during events the company ran for their clients. Everywhere Susan went, she was followed by groups of intently listening, head-nodding clients, to whom she spoke in low tones, as if sharing a secret.
I was mesmerized...Read More

Part III - Falling stars

Thu, 16 Sep 2021 12:56:23 -0700

How long had they been in lockdown? And was this the second or third time? Sarah had lost count.
She grabbed her coat and clicked her tongue to get the attention of Cooper, their 2-year-old golden mutt. He was already waiting for her at the door, having detected with his animal intelligence the pattern that Sarah set about daily to go out for a walk.
As she and Cooper went down the staircase, Sarah looked out for the neighbours’ cats, which liked to lounge about on the stairs, their coats gleaming. Cooper was the only canine in the building. He displayed playfulness and curiosity towards the cats, often to his peril: they stood their ground with effortless grace.
Sarah stepped outside into the chilly October air, turning towards the path to the park.
It had been a busy morning and she needed a breather.
Since the onset of the epidemic, Sarah’s company, TESSA & Co., had been in business-saving mode. TESSA’s main revenue pillars, training and consulting, had been decimated. The only activity faring better than before March 2020 was TESSA’s executive coaching practice. Sarah knew from her weekly calls with the small but senior group of TESSA coaches that the coaching conversations continued online. The coaches noted that clients were particularly interested in the following question: "How can I keep my people engaged and contributing?"
TESSA’s CEO, Vincent, and the leadership team were worried about the training part of the business. Historically, TESSA had always proposed online webinars to launch new themes. Company training sessions, however, were usually face to face, and based on a variety of experiences: group work, coaching sessions, meetups with experts, role play and peer-to-peer work. This dynamic approach was...Read More

Part II - Through the fog

Tue, 22 Jun 2021 22:57:02 -0700

Sarah had been a digital nomad for most of her career, to the point that she had never even logged onto the desktop in her office, relying on her Mac laptop for all work tools. She frequently felt bewildered seeing her colleagues manipulate large, clumsy computer screens and the myriad of smaller devices – mouse, keyboard, portable camera – attached to them by thin, unruly cables that seemed to tangle up on purpose.
It was the same sensation as hearing the printer work: the sound transported her instantly into the past.
The company, TESSA, had 400 m2 of squeaky-new office space in the heart of the city, overlooking the river. Sarah loved to walk to it in the crisp early morning air, her thoughts flowing to the rhythm of her long stride. It was too early to be on the phone. Everyone she passed on her way was deep in their thoughts, as though participating in a collective meditation session, taking delight in the physical effort of walking. This was the best time to dream of the day ahead.
She was almost sad to arrive at the office and interrupt the process. Just before the tall gate leading to the courtyard and TESSA’s front door, she would turn left and enter the café. The red and black counter would be busy with early morning walkers seeking coffee. The owner greeted her with a smile, handing her an allongé with extra hot water, no sugar.
Sarah was a regular.
TESSA & Co. employees enjoyed the right to work from home one day per week. The five members of Sarah’s marketing team were thrilled about remote work, saying it allowed them to have an “uninterrupted” day of work. Sarah could relate to that – she also appreciated her day of remote work, even though it often meant eight uninterrupted hours of virtual calls at her kitchen counter. They had Slack...Read More