Growing up, I used to memorize car engine displacement and horsepower. I had each vehicle down to trim level. Further more, I even had option packages and pricing down cold. And this was before information was readily-published on the internet. Few things excited me more than realizing I knew a vehicle's numbers. I made it a game to pick-up my copy of Car & Driver Buyer's Guide, read each review, and quiz myself later. You could put me up against any salesperson. With my eyes closed and no license in hand, I knew the car in question better than the one with the textbook answers.
Up front, I learned how to characterize a vehicle. But, I also learned how to identify similarities and compare vehicles indirectly. I asked questions based upon what I read and researched. It brought a thrill of knowing something I loved well. Characterizations do so much more than describe; they outline an operational design domain and frame boundaries. Characterizations tell us about who we are and how we relate to the world around us. Crunching car statistics tells us not only about the automaker's and vehicle's capabilities and the tuning permitted for its intended use, it speaks to potential limitations: boundaries. The numbers, coupled with the reviews, give us a high-level summary to characterize a vehicle (and thereby other vehicles, ahem competitors) under similar conditions.
While many shy from words and writing, self-sourced descriptions provide exceptionally-helpful insights- not just to others, but to and about us. We have more boundaries than we'd like to admit; and we frequently subject ourselves to circumstances that will aggravate and surface those boundaries ("unknowingly").
Last week, I exchanged a few communications with individuals that triggered me. Each time, I ignored the bother, but then I paused and characterized the irritations: verbally and in writing. Whoa- personal limits had been tested! And I was about to just continue ignorantly. I recognized the slip and strain in performance, but I failed to characterize, to remind myself of my own and environmental conditions. Part of it was based on my own mood, the other part of it was I was attempting to ignore something that bothered me at my core. We are not machines, but we do have window stickers. What's on yours? What details do your characterizations provide about your boundaries? What are your dashboard warnings?
Join the #QuedUpConversation.
Commenti