Communities, Quotations, and Inspiration: Learning With and From Our Colleagues

I wake up this morning to a “homework assignment” from a colleague (George Couros, via an email message to his list of contacts): read through a list of quotations he compiled during 2023, select one of the quotations, and compose a set of reflections “written, audio, on Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, TikTok, blog, MySpace, or whatever, and tag me on it in any of those spaces (except for MySpace!).” So I read through that lovely collection of thoughts from a variety of sources—some familiar, some new to me. And a funny thing happens: while I enjoy reading them, none of them makes me want to spend time composing a set of reflections. None of them offers me the open door that could entice me to enter another world.

So I set them aside. Breeze through some of the other bits and pieces of reading I want to do before diving into all I hope to accomplish today. Then, seeing a Facebook post from Deborah Doyle, another cherished friend/colleague/source of inspiration, I pause. Because it contains a lovely quotation. One that completely pulls me in. And one that puts me back into virtual touch with a writer—Paulo Coelho—whose work I very much admire: “Close some doors today. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because they lead you nowhere.”

I pause. I feel a door opening slightly. That door that insists I drop everything else and take the time to peek to see what hides behind it.

The skeptic in me kicks in, asking “Are those really words from Paulo Coelho, or is this another of those Internet moments like the one reminding us that Abraham Lincoln counseled against believing everything you read on the Internet?” So I do a few quick searches and find plenty of references to Coelho having said or written those words, but no site providing a precise, definitive annotation confirming where or when he wrote or said those words.

But the trainer-teacher-learner-writer in me swats the skeptic down. Reminds me that it does not really matter whether Coelho is the source. What is important is that the sentiment is appealing. Applies to so much of what my colleagues and I live and breathe and do. That a friend has given me a key to open and pass through that door. And that it is a wonderful reminder, at the beginning of what appears to be another year of wonderful possibilities, and exploration, and growth, that one must pass through open doors to see what’s on the other side.

It all comes down to how we choose to use the limited time we have. Those words remind us that we all are faced with far more doors than we will ever have the time to pass through. That for each door ignored, another beckons. And for each one chosen, other doors remain unopened, as do the experiences we might have had by choosing them over those we chose.

For those of us who want to do it all—open every door; try every dish on the menu at our favorite restaurant; read every book written by the authors we love or see every film made by those who consistently create enticing dreamy worlds into which we can escape; study and use the numerous languages we hear around us as we move through communities where English (or whatever mother tongue we speak) isn’t the only game in town—the choices can be overwhelming. And the decision to close a door so we can make space for a different is sometimes painful, sometimes filling us with dread or guilt for walking away from something or someone important to us. But setting aside the pain or guilt in recognition that the closing of the door might ultimately be better for us and what/who we leave behind, we find ourselves applying a different set of eyes and ears and desires leading us to something tremendously stimulating and rewarding.

Reading and absorbing books including Daniel Goleman’s Focus: The Hidden Driver of Excellence,  Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, and James Hollis’s Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life: How to Finally, Really Grow Up over the past few months has provided an enormous sense of perspective and encouragement in terms of deciding which doors to open—and how many. Each writer takes me closer to the realization that we are going to be much happier and productive if we take the time to decide how many doors we are going to open, close, or leave closed before trying to determine what it might reveal. Which door is most important and potentially rewarding to us now. Each writer reminds us of the importance of choosing the most important door right now. And not wasting time or energy in this particular moment on worrying about what those other doors might have offered that would have been more appealing.

It’s a realization that is at the heart of all that we do as trainer-teacher-learners: we help ourselves and our learners to focus. To be mindful. To produce the most rewarding experiences possible by choosing that single door that most appeals to us now. Opening it completely so we can see what lurks behind it. Exploring what is there to our own satisfaction whether that set of explorations requires a few minutes, a few days, a few months, or a few years. Absorbing it in ways that allow us to more fully contribute to the communities in which we live and work and play. And, when we pass back through that door or through another we discover along the way, we carry with us what we have gained so we can share it with others. As George and Deborah and other beloved members of my various communities of learning share with me, today, the reminder that a small, well-connected set of words is sometimes all it takes to lead us through a door into the world of our dreams.