An Open Letter to 2024 (12-4-24)

As the year comes to a close, I’ve once again taken time to sit near my Christmas tree and reflect. Here is my open letter to 2024, and the lessons it gave me.

Dear 2024,

How’s it going? If I had to sum up my experience with you in one word it would be, “Whoa!” Whoa as in, “Whoa! What the heck just happened?” or “Whoa! That’s enough already. You don’t need to keep pouring it on.” And “Whoa! How in the world did we make it through all that?” You were tough from the get-go, and you never let up.

My theme for this year was to “Intentionally Invest” There were some places in life where I failed miserable in investing in the right things, and instead spent energy and time like crazy just trying to make it. There were other areas where I did invest well, and I’m already benefiting from the compound interest from those efforts.
I’m so thankful for my health and continue to understand why I shouldn’t ever take that for granted.
I hope that everyone finds a partner one day that loves them, supports them, cares for people, and holds things down the way my wife does. If you’ve already found someone like that, make sure you count your blessings.
If my kids were flowers, they would be in full bloom now, and that’s beautiful. If they were flowers, they would also be bright and colorful with creative weird patterns, who grow where they are planted while learning how to try out new soil.
My goal in my job is always to work magic, to find ways to do the seemingly impossible. I’m so proud of myself, because I know I worked magic this year. I worked blood magic, sweat magic, tears magic. I transformed dreams and wild ideas into reality and slayed the status quo like an evil dragon. And when the dementors tried to come and suck out my soul, I yelled, “Expecto patronum” and shined a bright light until they retreated. #Hufflepuff (Side note, I wonder what my patronus would be. Bonus points to anyone who gives me a good answer)
2024, you taught me how important it is to have a few good people you can lean on. I worked magic, because I could lean on them when I needed to. I hope you all have a squad of folks you can lean on when stuff gets hard.
Being seen and being valued are two of the most important gifts you can give someone. Never underestimate how much a kind word or gesture can mean. Special thanks to all the people who gave me those gifts this year.
When the going got tough, I didn’t put the team on my back, I brought them into my heart. There’s a difference. The back merely holds heavy weight. The heart holds weight, embraces the people, and still beats with hopeful energy. The heart is stronger than other muscles could ever hope to be.
This year reminded me how much strength there is in vulnerability, and how similar our experiences are as humans. I had a blog series where I talked about going to therapy, not knowing if people had any similar feelings or issues. I was blown away by the number of people who said, “Whoa! This is the same things I’m going through.” It was a good reminder that we are never truly alone, and that being brave enough to share our stories hopes us all.
I think almost everyone I’ve spoken to is on the verge of burnout or a breakdown. I pray we all recharge and we find ways to avoid this next year.
Speaking of recharge, I’m finally making some progress on taking care of myself physically. Been working out regularly and seeing increases in strength. I have a long way to go, but proud of my progress.
Whoa! That’s a lot for one year. I hope that 2025 is a little bit smoother around all the spiky edges 😉

The challenge: If you haven’t taken the time, take a few moments to reflect on 2024 and the lessons and emotions it gave you this year. How will these shape you moving forward?

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

Performing Poetry in Bars and Embracing Discomfort to be Successful (1-24-24)

Last week was about choosing when to feel discomfort. This week is about performing poetry in bars and embracing discomfort to be successful.

I remember one time earlier in my career, when I had crushed a presentation in front of a difficult audience that peppered me with tough questions. Afterwards, a person asked me what my secret was. I replied, “As a hobby I perform poetry in bars. Imagine presenting in a room where everyone is loud and obnoxious. Imagine sharing deep parts of yourselves and then getting a low score on the poem. Imagine being booed. None of that is pleasant. Besides the poetry, I do dry runs where I ask people to come at me hard with stuff to throw me off my game. That gets bumpy. You live through that ugliness a few times, and the official presentation becomes a lot easier.”

Where is this going? A large reason why I was successful presenting in a tough situation is because I had spent so much time embracing discomfort. As a result, my mind and body were ready for the discomfort when the stakes were real. The pressure from the situation and the tough questions weren’t anything new. They were things I had dealt with and more importantly overcome time and time again. Once the pointed questions started coming, it’s like my muscle memory took over and just handled things. However, if I would have never experienced discomfort like that before, I would have frozen.

Think about work for a moment. How often are you embracing situations that cause discomfort? How often do you truly encourage people to challenge you and your thinking? How often do you do a dry run and ask people to critique you before the real presentation? How often do you role play through difficult feedback and conversations, so you can be prepared for the real convo? If you’re anything like me, you probably don’t create or invite these situations as often as you should. While none of those situations are particularly pleasant, consistently embracing discomfort in lower stakes instances make it a lot easier to tolerate that discomfort when things are on the line.

The challenge: How are you embracing discomfort to grow and be better?

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

Being Specific When Asking for Feedback (10-25-23)

Last week was about cleaning rooms, setting clear expectations, and giving feedback. This week is about asking for specific feedback in situations.

Here is a short poem.

The mysterious

one-eyed Jack gazes both at the

past and the future

If I asked you to give me feedback on the poem, what would you say? I’d imagine that right now you’re not exactly sure where to begin or what feedback would be helpful. What if I told you that I was trying to ensure the poem followed the haiku format (5, 7, and then 5 syllables)? I’m sure you could assess whether or not I did that. What if I told you that the poem was supposed to give off a mystical vibe? I’m sure you’d be able to talk through what feelings the poem made you feel, and then we could discuss how close those were to what I was aiming for. What if I told you my goal was to write a poem about regret and anxiety? Could you assess if it communicated that idea?

What does this have to do with anything? Have you ever asked for feedback at work? How clear were you about what you were looking for? This lack of clarity could often lead to you getting feedback that isn’t helpful and/or isn’t what you’re actually trying to understand. In the poem example, I initially asked for broad feedback. I’m assuming your broad feedback wouldn’t have been all that helpful. Then, I started asking more intentional questions to gather more specific feedback. Once I did that, you could provide direction that could be used.

When I think about work, I try to never ask for general feedback. Instead, I try to have specific questions. “I was trying to achieve X. Is that the right thing to achieve? How well did I achieve X?” or “I’m trying to develop X skills. On a scale from 1 to 5 I believe I’m a 3.5 for A, B, C reasons. Is this the right skill to develop? Do you agree with my assessment of where I am? Why or why not?” or “I’m just looking for a good idea, so I can develop it further. What has promise for you and why?” I’ve found over time these specific questions lead to more useful direction.

The challenge: As a receiver of feedback, can you ask the specific questions about what you want to know? As a giver of feedback, how do you narrow down the scope of the feedback to ensure it is useful?

1000 bonus points if you counted the syllables in the poem. I did 5, 8, 5 when it was supposed to be 5, 7, 5. 😉

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

15 Years- Encouraging Strengths in Others (7-13-22)

This will be the final entry in the series about memorable moments throughout my 15-year career. This week is about a moment that led to other moments for me. More specifically, it’s about encouraging strengths we see in others.

Back in my training days, I worked with a gentleman named Bill Fanelli. He was a different cat, always looking for new ways to help people connect and lead from their humanity. I had mentioned to Bill in a 1 on 1 that I was a writer and that I performed poetry. One day he asked me if I’d ever be willing to do some poetry for an experience he created. He was convinced that this approach would engage the audience and open them up to new ways of thinking. I told him yes, because I never thought he’d actually follow through. Then, one day he comes up to me and says, “So I have this day long training for leaders of varying levels across the company. How would you feel about doing some poetry about leadership and building culture?” I nervously agreed, but only because I had promised I would. I wrote a poem that became, “Let’s Build” and I performed it for the room of leaders. Not going to lie, performing poetry in my corporate job was weird, because I never thought that side of me belonged at work. I was wrong. Imagine my surprise when I saw how it moved them. Since then, I’ve been blessed with other opportunities to speak and perform for folks, which still blows my mind and fills my bucket. Beyond the poetry, Bill was one of the initial supporters of my blog and was one of the ones who encouraged me to keep writing. You probably wouldn’t be reading this without him.

What does this have to do with anything? It would be easy to think this story is about me performing poetry, but it’s not. It’s a story about Bill Fanelli. It’s a story about a guy who didn’t just see poetry and blogging, but saw that I had a knack for communicating in a way that could reach people. It’s a story about a guy who saw something in me that I didn’t particularly think to value at the time. It’s a story about a person who saw this strength and coaxed it out of me, and then watched as it flourished and opened other doors for me. Those doors have included speaking at other events, growing the blog, and leveraging my storytelling in marketing and market research roles. As leaders, it is our responsibility to see the strengths inside of others. It is our responsibility to help them see how powerful and impactful they can be.

The challenge: Are you appreciating, bringing out, and leveraging the strengths in others?

Bonus 1: Throughout this series I explored some of memorable moments. You might have noticed the moments weren’t ever really about me. They were about a colleague or supervisor somehow showing that they cared for me or valued me. Never underestimate the power you have to make a positive impact on someone.

Bonus 2: I’ve been blessed to speak/perform at a few events. Here are two of my favorites:

Eli Lilly and Company: Andrew Embry Shares #WeAreLilly Poem – YouTube– The “We Are Lilly” poem. Not going to lie, being asked by the CEO to write/perform poetry was sweet.
Waymakers (poem starts at 3:55 left in the video)- A poem I performed at a WILL event. I had the opportunity to support WILL, show some love and respect for my mom, and I threw down so hard in the poem that halfway through I received mini-standing ovation and had to slow down for a second before I finished. Best response ever! I can still feel that energy.

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

Poets Capture, Explore, and Share Moments (6-21-17)

This is the last in the series about lessons I’ve learned from performing poetry. We’ve talked about finding your voice, performing your version of dope poems, emotionsmithing, walking in the shoes of other people with persona poems, and last week we talked about bombing and moving on. I’d like us to finish by reflecting on what a poet does and how that connects to life and work.

If I asked you what an artist or a poet does, what would you say? I’d argue that an artist captures thoughts, moments, emotions, insights, etc., explores them in different ways, and then shares them with others. A poet captures, explores, and shares those things using words, rhythm, and literary devices as opposed to colors, musical notes, clay, etc. This might sound really basic, but it’s had an impact on the way I live and experience life. When I first started writing I always assumed I had to wait for the muse to give me secrets. Over time, I’ve realized that there are emotions, moments, insights, etc. around every corner that are worth capturing, examining, and sharing.

Here are a few of those positive and negative things that are worth capturing, exploring, and sharing. It’s the moment when you answer a phone, hear breathing, and know the next sentence is going to be bad news. It’s the couple on their first date inside of a restaurant, their nervous energy seen in every flirtatious movement. It’s the sun shining down reminding you that at least you have its rays for today to keep you warm. It’s the dog smiling as it waits for a belly rub. It’s the first time you know what love is.

So what does this have to do with anything? There are ways this connects to life and the way this connects to work. On the work side of things, if you think about what we do we spend a bulk of our time trying to understand people the moment they become patients. We capture these insights, look at them from different angles, and then share them between cross-functional teams so we can better help individuals. We make medicines to change that moment of pain or fear into something different. The challenge at work is how often do we really stop to capture and explore those moments, looking at them from a variety of angles and perspectives? On the life side of things, how often do we truly pay attention and observe what is happening around us? If you’re anything like me, I can get lost looking for huge signs, for the muse, and I miss the little things that are so impactful. Just taking the time to witness and allow ourselves to truly feel these things, good and bad, makes a world of difference in how you experience life. Life is so much richer once you experience its depths.

The challenge: Are you capturing, exploring, and sharing these moments to make the world around you better?

Bonus Question: What are some of your favorite “small” moments you’ve witnessed at work? Here are some of mine:

Opening up a handwritten note.
The first time you feel you are providing value in a new role.
Watching someone nail something that they were nervous about.
When a person you’ve always seen potential in has a second where they realize they are awesome.
When you’re presenting for a tough audience and someone gives you an encouraging smile.
When the person who is always a tough critic gives you a compliment.

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

Bombing on Stage and Moving Forward (6-14-17)

Last week was about persona poems and stepping into the shoes of another person. This week is about when things don’t go as well as planned. It’s a lesson in failure and moving forward that I learned from bombing on stage.

As I started performing poetry, my biggest fear was always that I was going to bomb on stage one night. The irrational part of my brain would equate bombing with public execution. Screwing up would be the worst thing that could happen to me. I no longer hold this belief, because I’ve absolutely bombed and lived to tell the tale. Long story short I performed this poem about my love/lust for cookies that had went over really well in Madison. The poem was filled with over the top humor and sarcasm, and Madison people loved it. Since people loved it, I was excited to perform this poem in St. Paul. Let’s just say, the majority of the St. Paul audience HATED it. They didn’t get the sarcasm, so they turned a weird/funny poem about my lust for cookies into a political statement. As I’m performing this poem, I can see and feel the negativity radiating off of the audience. Talk about awkward. The hatred was so intense that the emcee felt bad for me and tried to break the ice after my bombing by saying something like, “Man, you all are hating on him hard. You must hate cookies. You must all have diabetes.”

So the audience had basically just given me the feedback that I suck, and I was bummed. Then, I came to a realization. Sure, they had crushed something that I had crafted and was attached to, but I was still here and just fine. I hadn’t died. I hadn’t been booted out of performing poetry. I was just a guy who had screwed up on one performance. From there, I had to make a decision on what to do with the feedback, take action, and move on. Essentially I had 3 choices: 1. Give up on the poem/idea/thing. 2. Tweak it. 3. Do something entirely different (perform different poems in the future or get a different hobby). In this particular case, I still believe the poem is genius, but I now realize it’s not for everyone so I need to be selective on where I perform it. Since this day, I’ve had more poems fail. It’s just part of performing and trying to push your own boundaries.

How does this connect with work? I don’t know about you, but there was a time when one of my biggest fears was making a mistake at work. The irrational part of my brain would equate making a mistake with being ran over by a train. I’d be lying if I said I never feel that way, but as I’ve continued to screw stuff up in my life I’ve realized that making mistakes isn’t as a big of deal as I think it is. I’ve failed sometimes. I’ve had horrible ideas, great ideas with bad framing, and times where my vibes just didn’t work with people. I’ve received feedback on these mistakes, and just like after bombing on stage, I am still here and fine. I didn’t wilt away like flower that had been poisoned. I didn’t get kicked out of Lilly. I was just another person who had messed something up, which is a pretty big club to be part of. Just like with performing poetry, I had to take the feedback, understand it, make a choice on how to react, and move on.

The challenge: Are you letting your fear of failure control you? How do you respond when you fail or make a mistake?

On an unrelated note, here is a cool poem for the week. “59” or “A Love Poem for Lonely Prime Numbers” by Henry Baker.

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

Persona Poems (6-7-17)

The last entry in this series of lessons I’ve learned from performing poetry was about emotionsmithing and ensuring that we think about what emotions we want to drive with our communications before getting very specific about word choices. This week I want us to think about stepping into the shoes of another person and persona poems.

Most of the time when I write poetry I write it from my perspective. It could be about a wide range of topics, but it’s usually written from the perspective of how I view the world. Every now and then, I’ll write something called a persona poem. A persona poem is written from the point of view of another person or thing. Sometimes these can be comical and light hearted. I’ve heard poems written from the point of view of Simpson characters and even from Dracula telling Stephanie Meyer how much the Twilight books sucked. Sometimes these can be heavy and emotional for a variety of reasons like these two poems “Her Name” a poem told from the point of view of someone with Alzheimer’s by Khary “6 is 9” Jackson or this one by Sierra DeMulder. Fair warning, Sierra’s poem is like an episode of Criminal Minds.

In these situations poets go beyond just looking at the world in unique ways, and instead try to step into the shoes of another. They think about what experiences that person is going through and how those experiences would impact them. They step away from their own biases and try to see something new through fresh eyes. They go beyond the surface and find true depth. This is hard to do.

So you’re probably wondering what this has to do with anything. I feel there are three connections.

The first connection is about us taking the time to understand each other as we form and build relationships with each other. The older I get, the more I realize my sliver of the world is so very small, and that the people I walk by everyday see and experience things in ways that I could never dream of. How often am I trying to see the world as they do?

The second connection is our ability to take on the persona of the customers we serve. I feel that we spend our days talking about customers, but how often do we really stop and try to step into their shoes? How often do we shake off all of our bias and view the world from their eyes? I know I don’t do it often enough.

The final connection revolves around communicating with each other regarding work stuff. As we share information, how often do we stop and say, “I wonder how they are piecing this together in their worldview?” My best communication stories come from when I’ve put in the time thinking through things from other people’s perspective. It’s about taking the time to say, “If I was Bob, how would I view this information? If I was Susie, what questions would I ask?” Whenever I’ve taken the time to do that I’ve been exponentially more effective.

The challenge: Are you dropping your biases and viewing the world from other people’s eyes on a routine basis?

Bonus: “Haiku from an Aging Lighthouse”

My old light flickers.

My eye shuts for the last time.

Night falls and boats crash.

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

Emotionsmithing vs. Wordsmithing (5-24-17)

Last week was about doing dope poems. In order to be able to perform dope poems, you have to not only choose the right words, but you have to be able to hit on the right emotions. I’m sure you’ve all heard the term wordsmithing, where you are focused on finding the right words for a given communication. This week I want to challenge us to do more emotionsmithing (New word in the dictionary of Andrew).

A wordsmith is an expert in the use of words (Dictionary app). Wordsmithing is the action of editing a document and trying to find the perfect word for a specific situation. An emotionsmith is an expert with the ability to leverage emotions in order to get people to think, feel, or do something (Andrew dictionary). Where a wordsmith would ask, “Is this the word we want?” an emotionsmith would ask,

“Does this communication drive the emotions we want to drive?” When I write poems, I try to emotionsmith things first. I ensure that the poem is evoking the emotions I want the audience to feel. Only after I feel like I am clear on what emotions I’m trying to stir do I ever go back and wordsmith. I’ve had to redo entire poems, not because the words were bad, but because the emotions weren’t right. Likewise, I have written a lot of poems and told a lot of stories where the words weren’t particularly fancy, but the emotions were right on point. The audience never cared that the words were basic. The audience just cared that they felt an emotional connection.

So what does this have to do with work? I’m guessing we’ve all been involved in some wordsmithing where we painstakingly edit a powerpoint slide or Word document. Now sometimes wordsmithing is important, but how often do we wordsmith and spend countless hours on something that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things? Instead of always focusing on wordsmithing I wish we would spend more time emotionsmithing. When you create any communication, either internally or for customers, are you clear on what emotion you’re trying to drive?

Embry example: I work in market research. When I do readouts I don’t just think about data. I think about the data and the story and the emotions these create. I ask myself, how should my business partners feel about the results of this? Should they be surprised? Should they feel confident we are moving in the right direction? Should they feel worried, because something is sneaking up on them? Should they feel this is easy to implement? Should they feel concerned, because there are significant hurdles? I emotionsmith first, and then work on finding the right words to convey this idea.

The challenge: Are you emotionsmithing AND wordsmithing?

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

Just do Dope Poetry (5-17-17)

Last week was about finding your voice. This week we will dive a little bit deeper into this this concept. I want to share something I learned from a slam poetry mentor named Danez Smith. His lesson is, “Just do dope poetry.” If you want some poetry from Danez click one of these links “Principles” or “Dinosaurs in the Hood”. (There is a little strong language at times.)

In case you didn’t know, here is how a poetry slam competition works. Imagine someone performing poetry on stage while 5 random judges score that poem from 1 to 10. You never know who the judges will be, what their knowledge of poetry will be like, and what personal tastes they might have. This makes things extremely interesting, because I’ve had situations where I’ve performed the same poem in two different venues and received very different reactions. The points aren’t the point of a poetry slam. The point is to throw down some amazing poetry that moves the audience.

Our team was all together trying to brainstorm ideas for potential poems for Nationals and somewhere during the conversation we became obsessed with scoring. We started saying things like, “I don’t know about doing a poem about ____, because I don’t know how it will score.” We were limiting ourselves and ideas, when Danez steps up and says, “We’re talking a lot about scores. We can either try to write poetry based on what we think will score well or we can make sure we perform dope poems. It’s like teaching just to the test. When I’ve been on teams that tried to cater to the random judges, the poetry wasn’t good, we didn’t advance, and we weren’t proud of what we put out there. When I’ve been on teams focused on doing amazing, mind blowing stuff, then that’s when we’ve had success.” We made a decision to just do dope poems. We didn’t win Nationals, but we made it further than we had in years. More importantly, everywhere I went that week I heard poets and audience members saying things like, “Did you hear that stuff from team Madison. That was amazing!”

Now think about work and life. I don’t know about you, but as I’ve gone through my career I’ve often felt the tension of doing things the way I think things are supposed to be done versus making sure I do my version of great work. I get wrapped up thinking that if I don’t do X, Y, and Z like everyone else, then I’ll never be able to move anywhere in my career. Do you ever feel this way? How often do we spend our days trying to line up with the “test” that we think is in front of us versus doing our version of dope poems? I recently was talking to a mentor/coach about how I could be the best market researcher I could be. During our conversation he said something along the lines of, “You need to decide what it means and what it looks like for Andrew to be a legendary market researcher. The way Andrew gets there will be different from the way Bob or Susie will get there.” Essentially, he was telling me I need to perform my market research version of dope poetry.

The challenge: We can try to do things based on some invisible test or we can go be awesome, blow some minds, and let everything else sort itself out. Are you trying to do something based on an invisible test or are you performing dope poems?

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry

Finding my Voice (5-10-17)

This week I’d like to kick off a new series inspired by lessons I’ve learned from writing and performing poetry. My goal each week is to share a lesson I’ve learned and also share some poetry from other people or myself, so if you have a few moments check the poetry out too. This week is about finding your voice.

I’m assuming that most of you know, but in case you don’t I perform spoken word poetry. When I do this in competitions it is called slam poetry. I’ve been doing this for years and when I lived in Wisconsin I won a few competitions and was even on a few national teams. Since then, I’ve performed in a couple of places around Indy and done a few Lilly events. Before you think I’m an arrogant loser for bragging, the reason I mention these things is because when I first started I was horrible. That’s not me being humble. I wasn’t good.

You’re probably wondering why I sucked so bad. Part of it was skillset and learning something new. However, the major reason is I hadn’t found my voice yet. I hadn’t uncovered and embraced who I am at my core as a person and performer. I was performing in Madison Wisconsin, where the majority of poets were political and very serious, so I tried to be just like them. I tried on poems and concepts like they were masks. It didn’t work. The poetry wasn’t authentic. That style just wasn’t me, it wasn’t Andrew Embry. This resulted in crappy poetry.

This all changed with the help of a poetry mentor named Evy. I would describe Evy as a “middle aged frumpy loving mama bear with sharp claws and nerdtastic tendencies.” And now you’re probably like, “Dude, calling her frumpy isn’t cool!” I’m calling her frumpy because she has an entire poem about how she is bringing frumpy back the same way Justin Timberlake brought sexy back. That’s the kind of woman she is. She is fiercely Evy. When she does the “Bringing frumpy back” other people kind of wish they were frumpy on her level. This works because she embraces herself, her voice, and her awesomeness. On the mic she is always Evy. Her poetry was always slightly offbeat, a little twisted, willing to go to some different places to find truth. She had a way of pulling deep wisdom out of the most unusual places like Sesame Street, Voltron, and C-sections. Her poetry could hit hard, it could hit softly with a nice twist. Regardless what it was about, it was always her. It was watching her and working with her that encouraged me to find my voice. The moment I did that, everything changed. Basically overnight my poetry went up a level, because it was truly MY poetry. My happiness went up a level, and I’ve tried never to come back down again. If you’re interested, here is a poem Evy did with Ali about love, the Road Runner, and Wile E Coyote. Evy is the one on the left. Click HERE.

So what does this have to do with work? Have you found your voice? What does it sound like? What kind of stories does it tell? Have you embraced your voice yet? Much like great poetry, great people and great leadership can come in a variety of styles. There are a lot of leaders I love, who I think are very effective, and I can’t quite do it like them. It’s not me. It works great for me, but me trying to copy them exactly just wouldn’t work. I have to find and live my voice.

If you’re wondering, I would describe my poet voice as real, unfiltered storyteller, truth, filled with so much energy it’s on the verge of exploding like a star, clever, playful, sometimes piercing, and appreciative of the small and unseen. I think my work voice is something kind of like that. If you’d have anything else you’d like to throw in to describe my voice I’d love to hear it and learn more. Along those lines, if I can ever help you find and define your voice just let me know.

The challenge: Have you found and embraced your voice?

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry