Four Work Trends Set to Boom

Some food for thought for the new year...

#TechForGood #FutureOfWork

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The most interesting people defy categorization

Live an interesting enough life, and you’ll never be easy to describe

Social Intelligence 101:

If your friend is telling you about an accomplishment, do not try to one-up them by sharing an accomplishment of your own.

Tame your ego.

Sit back and actively listen.

1) I was 30 years old. And in what many would consider a dream job. But I was pretty miserable. Because I knew I was letting my real dream--to become a screenwriter/filmmaker--die.

2) Sitting in my office one night, it hit me, if I did let the dream die, I would become toxic, because that's what death does, and that toxicity would ooze out of me, onto those I loved.

3)In that instant, I decided to make a shift, to find a way to finally, after years of denying it, do the thing. Try, at least. So I went to my best friend, @DavidLevien, who was already writing, and asked him for help.

4) David gave me The Artist's Way and said that when we had the right idea, he and I would write a screenplay together.

5) Soon thereafter, I had to good luck of walking into an illegal poker club in NYC, called David in the middle of the night, and we decided to write the thing.

@epballou @AutSciPerson I have to say, all this info about sound sensitivity is making me emotional. I've never been able to talk about this. I can work around airplanes, no protection (did it for years), but if I'm caught near a city fireworks show I lose my mind. The fear and pain is indescribable.

I tell people one of my biggest fears is balloons, and obviously it's funny to imagine, until they see me have a psychotic break when one pops. I lose myself and it's terrifying. I don't know what it is about loud sudden sounds that hurts me, and it appears I'll never know.

I dread the 4th of July every year. My birthday parties were often held then. Recently I discovered if I wear earbuds and blast music with audio PPE on top I can stand to be outside. That first show where I could keep my hands free I held my best friend's hand and felt wondrous.

I'm crying just remembering discovering I could be happy underneath fireworks. I'll never understand why my parents didn't think to ever try to help me, and instead made me suffer for so long, feeling absolutely alone with this. Only once do I remember my mother comforting me.

It was a particularly bad year, a lot of college kids I think renting nearby camps, and I hid under my bed for hours. My mother came up and laid on my bed, dangled her hand down to show she was there, and sang to me. I was 15.