
A few weeks ago, I was taking part in a workshop. The facilitator of the exercise the group was undertaking asked us to move around and tell one another the thing that we felt we did best.
To begin with, I struggled to think of anything so I simply said what I thought best described my ‘job’. Except it didn’t feel authentic, even as the words slipped from my lips.
So, I started changing what I said, until suddenly I hit upon something that I felt was truly me. What I’d settled upon was deceptively simple, yet I’d avoided saying it out loud. Why? Because it wasn’t, and isn’t, what I get paid to do.
Often, knowing what makes you special is spotted by others. They see something in you that you didn’t spot yourself. Try it: ask ten people around you what they think makes you special and you’re likely to gather up an armful of answers.
Since I began focusing my thoughts on practice over process, I’ve viewed people through an entirely different lens. Their job title is less of an interest to me, because the ‘how’ of their work is what makes them unique.
Turning this into ‘gold’
While alchemy has its medieval origins, transmuting base metals into gold, it’s become to also mean, “seemingly magical process of transformation, creation, or combination…” and it’s this that I’m beginning to hone.
Seeing that something special in someone and bringing them together with someone else within my network – and making that introduction incredibly specific, personal and relevant. It transforms people, creates new and unforeseen opportunities, and it’s, well, magical.
However, like alchemy, it doesn’t always work perfectly. Not every introduction leads to something magical, and that’s okay. The majority do – and in some instances, my introductions have led to major changes in people’s lives, working practices, career directions. And all it took was a personable and personal introduction – and pointing out to both people the thing they hadn’t seen in themselves.
Occasionally, when I talk to someone about this, they bring up the subject of money with me. Should I get paid for these introductions? They ask, what’s in it for me?
Payment is out. I’m not a recruiter, and I’m not finding people for specific roles. Nor do I want to be. It misses the point if I’m paid. I’m seeing something and gently nudging that person towards someone else in which I’ve seen a complementary way of thinking and/or working. I get a true sense of satisfaction from seeing a new working relationship blossom, or a friendship begin. And, as I know from attending the Do Lectures this year, Givers Get Lucky.
Practising alchemy requires me to acknowledge the occasional failure, to keep doing this because I know when it works it really, really works. Most importantly, I rather like the magic of looking out for that something special in someone.

