Take Your Whole Self From Work

Work follows us into the bedroom

Our work follows us everywhere now. Evenings, weekends and vacations are accessible by and commonly interrupted by work. We need to consider whether it is time to take our whole self from work.

Of late, I have read a flurry of articles around bringing your whole self to work. Most people who have tried that have found their whole self is rarely appreciated. Whatever that expression is trying to encourage, the employee experience is usually different. Few workplaces are genuinely realms of inclusion. Before you ask the employee to initiate that sharing it is better to ensure that they are welcome to bring their whole selves. As long as the culture of work is a performative environment, our whole self is likely to be too far from the idealised norms to be appreciated there.

Work is hanging out at the park

The bigger issue about taking your whole self to work is that it further centres work. Work is meant to be the bit that delivers some sense of achievement and an income to support a rich and fulfilling life outside of work. Even if we put aside the relentlessness of the hustle bros, expectations of availability, responsiveness and work centricity are misaligned with the reality of our desire for a life.

One reason working from home has been such a trauma for many is that it has brought the work centricity deeper into the home, at the exact moment that enabling supports like childcare, schools, home care and wider family have been removed. Accomodating somebody’s life in a video conference when working from home is not allowing people to bring their whole selves to work. It is work invading a place that people used to go to escape work.

Work even follows us to the beach

In an era of mobile phones, instant messaging and chat channels, work doesn’t even respect the weekend or vacation boundary. Out of office responses are useful, but they assume that people won’t see their crisis as just urgent enough or a minor inconvenience to interrupt your much needed escape.

If the idea of taking your whole self from work sounds transgressive. It is because it is. We have reached a point where work is the norm, the expectation, the continuous presence and the centre. Anyone who has been between work, whether by choice or by accident, can describe the difficult conversations where people can’t process that you don’t happen to work at this moment. It usually involves long discussions of what you used to do, plan to do or could do to remove the disconcerting absence of work. Work is such a fixation that even when I explained to people that I was consulting, they would say ‘Don’t worry. It won’t last long’.

There is no way of being fully human without being fully stuck or event completely absent: we are simply not made that way. There is no possibility of pursuing a work without coming to terms with all the ways that it is impossible to do it. Feeling far away from what we want tells us one of two things about our work: that we are at the beginning or we have forgotten where we are going

David Whyte, Three Marriages

We have to take our whole selves from work so that we can see those selves and that work more clearly. We have to have distance to be able to bring new perspective to the most important work, creating a rich and fulfilling life despite all the challenges and obstacles. More work can be a path from disadvantage or an opportunity to build wealth. More work can be a vehicle for success or an opportunity to achieve long overdue recognition. For most people though more work is just the grind of more work. The more of yourself you put into work the return, financial or personal, is unchanged. By taking some distance, we can understand where we stand and what we need from our work. Then we can go back. What we choose to bring to work after we take our whole selves away will be more valuable to us and to our organisations.


Our CEO was last seen around here heading NorthWest

There was a meme that went around a few years ago highlighting that Airbnb was the most valuable accomodation service with no hotels, Uber the most valuable transportation service without cars, and so on. The point of the meme was an ongoing shift in our economy from asset ownership to services as the source of competitive advantage.

Our new pandemic world throws up a new source of competitive and strategic change. Organisations are beginning to recognise that location isn’t what it once was. We are in danger of being dislocated.

At the beginning of the industrial era, entrepreneurs created factory towns to have a dedicated community of employees, to develop unique skills and capabilities in their employees and to preserve intellectual property. From that location they sent product out to the world.

Despite the major shift from manufacturing to services, organisations still think in factory town terms. A new campus is still a marquee project for a CEO and in Australia we have been through an era of heavily investment in collaborative office spaces, mostly for property savings but under a veneer of innovation, collaboration and human capability. Location is a source and a gathering point of human capability, even if that location is a financial centre trading in global markets or an innovation hub like Silicon Valley intent on enabling the world to collaborate, work and live digitally.

Organisations are now challenged to think about where the best capability lies for their strategy, not where their organisation may be located. Effective strategy has always been about the best development and use of human capability. Now this capability can come from a global market. This is not offshoring where organisations engage in labour arbitrage, or the gig economy where organisations seek to shift the risk of business volatility to contingent contractors. This is an explicit recognition that, subject to the limitations of remote work, you can hire anywhere and get the best capability. If your organisation has global ambitions, one has to question why your human capabilities are limited to the supply in your own town or that which will move to your town.

How did Airbnb, Uber and the like become household names? They presented novel solutions the limitations of marketplace services for accommodation and transportation. They aren’t perfect but the delivered a compellingly differentiated proposition to scale globally. The barriers to remote working and its issues are problems for organisations to solve to leverage the best global capabilities to deliver their strategy. Many organisations are already deep into experimentation, investment and development of new models of hiring, of work and of capability. There is new strategic advantage and new level of performance that organisations can achieve if they are able to work with their people and develop new and better ways of working.

Remote and flexible work is not a temporary or short term fix to a pandemic. Things will not go back to 2019 business as usual. Organisations seeking competitive and strategic advantage should be exploring the opportunities and new solutions and new ways of working for our dislocated world of work.

Digital Exhaust(ion)

Do you know the moment when relief and tiredness merge into one experience? The moment before you realise that this new achievement is not the crest it is a shoulder on the ongoing climb. Take a pause to look back and celebrate what we have done. Then we must go on.

I wrote earlier in this pandemic about the challenges of fatigue. Across many domains we are now seeing that fatigue play out. Here in Victoria, we experienced a rollercoaster 48 hours where it briefly looked liked our reopening from lockdown would be delayed by a new outbreak, only to experience two days of no cases or deaths and the announcement of the new path out of lockdown. Devastation turned to doughnuts.

In the intervening 24 hours of disappointment across a range of connections, you could see the impact of the fatigue. Everyone is tired of work, of restrictions, of their narrow relationships, of lost sleep, of lost dreams, of grief, of worry for friends, family, colleagues, community and more. We needed hope and change, just like we needed to do all the work to make that hope and change possible.

This is not a small voice
you hear.

Sonia Sanchez, This is not a Small Voice

One benefit of blogging through the last nine months has been to be able to look back on the rollercoaster journey and the reiteration of themes of hope, love, poetry, connection, frustration, remote working, collaboration, community, loss and work. Sharing all that has also fostered critical interactions, conversations and support that has helped me through this journey so far. That digital exhaust is a record of the exhaustion we all feel. However, it is also a record of all that has worked, all we needed to do together and the work that still lies ahead.

We are exhausted. However, the pandemic is not over, our organisations still need to continue to change and adapt. There are great big global challenges and small personal ones that we still need to address together. The hope, today as ever, is that we can come together and start to do that work.

Earlier in the pandemic, I referenced Emily Dickinson’s Hope is a thing with feathers a great deal. Let’s go back to Emily now for the current air of celebration and the rowing in Eden yet to come:

Wild nights – Wild nights!
Were I with thee
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile – the winds –
To a Heart in port –
Done with the Compass –
Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden –
Ah – the Sea!
Might I but moor – tonight –
In thee!

Emily Dickinson, Wild Nights

Performance as Identity

On the internet nobody knows you’re a dog

Our digitally mediated lives can lure us into a performance. There are implications for this as we consider what increasingly virtual forms of working bring to our workplace, a realm in which performance and impressions already had an outsized role.

Nobody Knows You’re A Dog

Back in 1993, the New Yorker published a cartoon that used the punchline ‘On the internet nobody knows you’re a dog, That cartoon became a meme about anonymity on the internet. Anonymity is still an issue for this domain but now we must also consider another implication of this cartoon – our social web as a realm of performance as identity. Because nobody knows you are a dog, who you portray can be carefully shaped and is often difficult for your digital colleagues to assess.

Erving Goffman led the way in helping people think of identity and impression management as a form of performance. We can consciously or unconsciously shape other’s impressions by how we act. In our new digital lives these impressions surround us:

  • influencers who win followers for perfectly curated Instagram lives of sponsored fiction
  • thought leaders who win influence for carefully curated performances of platitudes and other easily digestible advice
  • conspiracy theorists, key board warriors and trolls who act out their rage at a changing world from the safety of their comfortable lives
  • our own carefully chosen, filtered and cropped selfies
  • personal branding advice with all its contradictions – ‘you should act this way so that you appear authentic’

We could confine these actions to the psychological challenges of a few but humans in society are creatures of social validation & social norms. The more performative identity we see, the more it influences our thinking of what is ideal or at least a norm. Personal branding is a topic of discussion because personal branding is something people do and some times it helps people to change perceptions and achieve their goals. Whether better, wider or greater communication is actually what did the work is often lost in the social proof.

Performance as the Work

One theory as to why our virtual meetings are proving so exhausting is that the Brady bunch format means all the faces are on the screen at the same time. We are by nature inclined to study human faces and to worry about the appearance of our own. We are tired in part by the drama of all the performance. Moving out of gallery view can restore some of the intimacy of the discussion and reduce the performative load.

There is also a greater load in managing often diverse social norms in a rapid fire series of meetings. Context switching brings a social burden as we tailor our performance to different audiences. Even with a greater casualisation of work attire in this era, we still recognise the different expectations of a board meeting, a sales pitch, a team meeting and video drinks.

What can we do to help people with the challenges of performance?

  • Reduce the uncertainty: make social norms an explicit part of the group discussion. This reduces the value of performance, sets clear benchmarks and makes clearer the rules of the game.
  • Widen the context: Your new colleague who was hired into remote work is wondering what people think of them and working hard to make a good impression. Take time to share a wider context of people’s lives, work and challenges. Working out loud can help with this.
  • Prioritise substance: There are many people who feel deeply uncomfortable with work as a performance due to their temperament, inclination to introversion, power dynamics or other circumstances. Working asynchronously in preparation for meetings can enable people to make their contributions to the team through the substance of their work over style or identity issues.
  • Focus on inclusion: People are afraid of public speaking because of fear of embarrassment or ridicule. Demanding a performance can exclude people. Make sure everyone in the team has an option to contribute in their own way and be valued for that contribution.
  • Have fun: If we are going to perform at work, let’s have some fun doing it. Fun and humour can break down barriers and enable people to share more easily.

We may never quite know the real identity of our digital colleagues. They may struggle to express it themselves. However, if our digital world of work is going to carry the burden of social performance then we can do more to make it easier, fun and rewarding. We are ultimately social creatures and that includes our work lives.

Embracing Risks

Without a safety net

Life is full of risk. Managing risk isn’t about elimination. Managing risk is choosing what risks to embrace and which risks to mitigate. In no arena is this more important than in the personal relationships which underpin our work. Focusing on taking more risk in these relationships is the path forward to higher individual and team performance.

Psychology Safety to Take Risks

Through the work of Amy Edmonson we have come to understand the importance of psychological safety in teams and organisations. Edmondson defines psychological safety as

‘a shared belief the team is safe for interpersonal risk taking’.

The critical point and the benefit to individuals and the team of psychological safety is the willingness to embrace risk. Risk is associated with return. The safety to take risks in that team will enhance performance. Embracing risks in interpersonal relationships also provide an environment that mitigates performance risk through respectful and supportive feedback. Edmonson’s work has consistently shown that teams with psychological safety manage risk and quality better. Interpersonal risk enables lower performance risk.

The embrace of risk in psychology safety can be lost in some discussion of the concept. People commonly confuse the term with risk elimination, avoiding conflict, making people feel comfortable and even political correctness. It is essential that we understand that psychological safety is the opposite.

Many team dynamic models highlight the critical role of conflict and feedback in team performance. From Tuckman’s stages of group development to Lencioni’s five dysfunctions of a team, conflict and feedback are key elements of alignment, performance and adaptation in teams. Every situation of conflict and feedback involves interpersonal risk. Performance demands more interpersonal risk, not less.

Embracing Personal and Interpersonal Risk

Alan Watts reminds us that all relationships are founded on an act of faith. That faith is called trust, a belief to some extent in the reliability, integrity or performance of another.

The moment that you enter into any kind of human undertaking in relationship, what an act of faith. See, you’ve given yourself up. But this is the most powerful thing that can be done: surrender.

Alan Watts

With that trust comes some act of surrender and its consequent risks. We give up part of our knowledge, will, work, life and concerns to another for their care and management. We cannot eliminate this trust or its related elements of risk. The more we seek to exclude trust and resist this surrender the greater the overhead burdens we place on our relationships.

In organisations, we drown in this overhead, because we are unwilling to take interpersonal risk. Unwilling to take interpersonal risks, we have pursued mitigation of our doubts through poor substitutes for interpersonal trust like trustless transactional relationships, contracts, surveillance, supervision, measurement or compliance processes. Because trust is reciprocal, our unwillingness to trust sees others unwilling to trust us. One reason blockchain has no transformed organisations or even contracts is the path to better performance of relationships is enabling higher trust, not trustless ledger machinery.

Melissa Beck recently wrote a wonderful post, In Praise of Risk. She highlights that these personal and interpersonal risks are a key part of moving forward with our lives. To paraphrase her conclusion we need to carry on and, perhaps stupidly, ridiculously, take more risks.

By taking these personal and interpersonal risks, we will find new relationships – new ways of living, working and performing. The lessons and adaptations we make after embracing the risk is how we will improve ongoing. The next level of individual and team performance is in embracing risk.

404 – Not Found

404 – Not Found. The HTTP Status Error for a URL not Found

We spend a lot of our life searching. Sometimes we search for the wrong things. Far too often we are searching in the wrong spot. No wonder that search can feel unending.

This morning I was reminded of an old joke. A man comes along the street at night to find a drunk looking for his car keys under a lamp. He joins in the search but neither of them can find anything. Eventually, the man asks “Are you sure you dropped them here?” to which the drunk replies “No, I dropped them over there, but the light is better under this lamp.”

The anecdote came to mind this morning as I was searching through my social media feeds. I realised something that had been creeping up on me:

Whatever needs had prompted me to scroll the feeds was not present in what I was seeing. Whether it was distraction, good news, validation, connection or hope, the best those feeds could offer was a proxy for that experience, a tease of the possibility that experience was out there. I could keep waiting or I could log out. I chose the latter.

I need to retrain my brain. I’m going to find another place to search. I’m going to step away from the bright lights and go search in the dark where there’s a hope of finding something meaningful.

  • If I want distraction, I have much to read and music to stream.
  • If I want good news, I can go read it at source in credible publications
  • If I want validation, I can do the work
  • If I want connection, I can reach out to others directly or re-engage with small communities with meaningful connection
  • If I want hope, I can dream

Social media feeds are still a powerful way to reach others around the world, learn from differing perspectives, benefit from the curation of others and to find surprises. Over time my use of these platforms has evolved from these purposes. Using them effectively involves searching in the right place with the right tools for the right content.

My brain threw up the human equivalent of a 404 error message. It is time to refine my search.

Losing What You Never Had

You who do not discriminate
between the dead and the living, who are, in consequence,
immune to foreshadowing, you may not know
how much terror we bear, the spotted leaf,
the red leaves of the maple falling
even in August, in early darkness: I am responsible
for these vines.

Louise Gluck, Vespers

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop, One Art

This has been a year to grow fatigued by loss. The relentlessness of disaster has magnified the very real losses of life, of health, and of livelihood. Strangest of these losses and perhaps the most inconsequential is the loss of that which we have never had. With loss of travel, connection and gathering has come a raft of grief for things we never had.

I lost a summer to bushfires. As an Australian, that was expected. Fires happen in a dry continent. However, the scale was extraordinary and skies grey or orange with acrid smoke belonged more in Blade Runner 2048 than the Melbourne suburbs.

General Petraeus, when the death-count of American troops
in Iraq was close to 3,800, said ‘The truth is you never do get
used to losses. There is a kind of bad news vessel with holes,

and sometimes it drains, then it fills up, then it empties again’—

Andrew Motion, Losses

As I prepared for my first trip to Seattle in over a decade, the Coronavirus pandemic broke out there and I lost a trip to see much missed colleagues and much loved family. This early warning and the worrying news from China meant that I moved my work to home before my city faced its first lock down. I began to miss my rituals and my regular haunts from the morning coffee to a lunchtime trip to a bookstore. From my privileged position at home, I watched the mounting damage around the world. as chaos mounted, I grieved for a safe just and equitable world of which I’d dreamed.

I am supported by multiple global communities that are versed in virtual tools and have provided comfort, distraction and companionship in this time. Never has community been so important to me as when we come together to battle a global public health crisis.

I have been lucky in that I have had no major losses, just the inconvenience of isolation, and yet I still have experienced moments of grief for a world that might have been. I thought perhaps it was strange to mourn that you have never lost, but a quick search revealed it is well known and that there is lots of advice on how to handle this experience. Even still my story seems a little trivial compared to those stories of loss of dreams and ideals. At best, my life has been a mildly inconvenienced and perhaps delayed.

If it became impossible to touch and be touched, to see
and be seen, to love and trade ecstasy for risk where risk
is ecstasy, to be hidden in plain view, to be perfectly lost
which means lost to the world, lying side-by-side arms linked
in a bond so intricate it could never unfold or break

David Harsent, Loss

We can’t live life backwards. Our losses and our grief are real. We will seek what closure life will allow. We can tell ourselves all kinds of stories about the past, some for comfort, some for validation, and some as inspiration. Some of these stories are even true. Other stories we tell are those of the future. These are the stories that inspire us to get out of bed and to go on with our lives. Whether these are true or not remains in our hands. If we mourn the loss of these stories too much now, we determine their fate.

Whatever the circumstances, we do not lose the ability to yearn and to dream. These stories may tease our hopes and bring future losses. However, they are also the vehicles for us to come together with others, to create new things and to realise our potential. We cannot be afraid of the stories that may not eventuate. Our future is full of them, just as it is full of so much other potential.

An hour comes
To close a door behind me
The whole of night opens before me

WS Merwin, Memory of the Loss of Wings
Of course, just for an added bonus for the dedicated who made it this far, there is an Elvis song


We get this. They don’t.

We are strategic. They are tactical and operational.

We work in responsive, agile and flexible ways. Our employees ‘work from home’.

We don’t enable our leaders. We focus on an employee engagement crisis.

We don’t talk about inclusion. We focus on gender, sexual, and racial diversity.

We don’t address workplace stress. We encourage resilience.

We don’t look at our customer experiences. We discuss customer loyalty.

We don’t trust our employees. We are shocked that they don’t trust us.

We don’t consider power. We are concerned that they don’t speak up or act up enough.

We leverage precarity, risk and threats. They are so timid and fearful.

We know what’s going on. We are disappointed in their lack of innovation.

We seek every advantage as long as they behave fairly.

We are ok. We are sure that they will be fine.

We judge ourselves by our intent. We judge others by their behaviour.

We are us. They are them.

We are fine. When are they going to change?

If only they weren’t so Other.


Ah need I say, dear friend, that to the brim

My heart was full? I made no vows, but vows

Were then made for me; bond unknown to me

Was given…

William Wordsworth, The Prelude

I sat down on Sunday to write about our entangled lives, how we are caught up in networks of connection, obligation and expectation. I was reading David Whye’s Three Marriages which looks at these networks of commitment to love, work and the self. The tangle of these often contradictory commitments is what makes up a life. We may focus on the ease or the happiness of our lives but often the obstacles are the work. David Whyte references William Wordsworth’s Prelude and the bonds that come to us unexpectedly and even, at times, unwanted.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things

Mary Oliver, Wild Geese

As I tried to start writing about our everyday tangles, commitments and frustrations, the word skein came to mind as a wind of yarn. That idea brought with it a distant echo of memory that I found I needed to untangle before I could write. Like our many invisible connections, the word skein had a hidden pull on me. A dictionary confirmed my understanding of the meaning of skein, but offered another clue.

To my surprise, skein has a secondary meaning, the formation of geese in flight. The ever-shifting form is its own entanglement, as geese share the load of leading the formation and manage their three dimensional relationships through simple rules that maximise the performance, efficiency and safety of the skein. A reference to wild geese brought to mind Mary Oliver’ famous poem, but I knew I had not yet got to the heart of my own tangle.

Je jalouse le sort des plus vils animaux
Qui peuvent se plonger dans un sommeil stupide,
Tant l’écheveau du temps lentement se dévide!

Charles Baudelaire, De profundis clamavi

By this point, I knew it would have been better to let the mess go. I was now deeply distracted and unsettled. A connection broken or unfulfilled was taunting me and standing in the path of my progress. I couldn’t write anything until this lost idea stopped tugging at me. I wasn’t even sure at this point that there was anything inspiring my search. I no longer was clear why I had even wanted to write about entanglement. With a sense that there were likely better things to do, I searched on obligated to find the end. The tangle I was unravelling fell apart a few poems deeper in my search when Charles Baudelaire’s De profundis clamavi was pulled from the mess. The last line of that poem has been often translated:

‘So slowly does the skein of time unwind!’

That idea of ‘the skein of time’ was what the word skein had brought to mind. I found what I had been seeking through a lifetime of half-remembered threads. Life unravels slowly and these yarns entangle us more each day. Whether we want it to be so or not, we are on a thread of life stretching back and pulling us forward. We are our own narrative, other’s stories of us and a few unfulfilled dreams. I love Baudelaire’s poems and that phrase had been buried deep in a tangle of other memories of love, life and work. By the time that my curiosity was satisfied, I had lost the day. I had also lost the thread of the entanglement that I set out to explore.

Perhaps, I even got there through all the unravelling of half-remembered connections. After all, yarn has a second meaning too.

Seven More Ways to Make Work More Effective

Tanmay Vora’s sketchnote of my last post on productivity

One of the more popular post on this blog is my effort at five productivity tips. The post is popular mainly because Tanmay Vora rendered it into the wonderful sketchnote above. I have mocked the top five format, so this is a next seven. In my work and experience since writing that post, I have learned more. Now I need to add to my list (one of the many dangers of a top five). So here is my list of seven more ways to work more effectively.

Remember as you take these forward they are suggestions, not rules. Your work, your organisation and your mileage may vary. Productivity tips are just tips. Everyone needs to evolve their own system to suit their unique preferences, skills and work.

Manage energy, not time

We are taught to not waste time. Supposedly, it is all we have. However, it doesn’t take much life experience to realise that not every moment is equal. Some times we have the energy to move fast. Some times we don’t. Persistence matters but grind is pointless. Take breaks. Manage your energy. You will get more done working when you are productive than staring at the screen for the point of it.

Manage goals & priority, not tasks

Anyone can fill a to do list. It’s much harder to do the most important and most valuable things first. We often confuse the urgent, the mundane and the easy for the most valuable things we can do. You don’t need to micromanage yourself. Put your energy against the highest priority. Make sure you can see the goals of the work. Do the administrivia when you are barely there.

Hire future peers

You don’t want people to work for you. The best people work with you and may some day replace or surpass you. Hire people who are or can be peers to work for you. Develop your people to do all you can do and more. The only way to multiply our effectiveness is through growing the talents of a team.

Delegate goals

Micromanagement sucks. Don’t delegate tasks. They are demeaning and put both of you at risk of irrelevant goalless work. If you manage your work by priority and value, allow your team to do the same. Allow them to create new ways to work and surprise you. Giving over the whole goal, lets people play to their strengths, not yours. Delegate the whole goal and then coach your team to achieve it.

Work outside-in

A lot of organisational politics is devoid of an external reality. A lot of time wasting tasks have no value to customers, the community, shareholders and other stakeholders. Work problems from outside your organisation back in. It’s amazing how many issues and problems disappear when you have external stakeholders on your side.

Asynchronous Work

We have more tools to work asynchronously than ever. As much as we love our real-time chat and video conferencing asynchronous work is the great productivity gain. Calendars don’t always align. Energy doesn’t always align. Let people make their contributions to work when they can and how they want. Asynchronous sharing, commenting, editing and more can be a powerful way to get more done with more people. The first simple step is to gather the feedback before the meeting. That way any meeting can be deciding what to do with the feedback.

Weave. Don’t multi-task

Nobody is as effective at multitasking as they think. There are real costs of task switching. At a minimum we need to understand each task in its context. However tasks have different cycle times and all tasks have big and little gaps. Not everything is real time and synchronous. If you plan your work to do other things in the inevitable gaps, you can get more done. Allow blocks of time for high value creation, problem solving and synchronous interactions. Weave other activities around these blocks. Phone calls, follow-ups, status checks and re-prioritisation are all great in-between tasks.

So that’s my next seven for now. I’ll keep learning, experimenting and adding to my practice. Maybe you can see a not-so-hidden theme emerging of working in a more human way with a focus on human relationships, talents, value and the up and down of energy. All these tips are pointless if the systems we work in don’t let us do that work.

I’m sure there will be more tips and themes. I’m keen to learn from others. What works for you to make your work more effective?