How are you wired?
It’s a question that gets to the heart of our individuality.
For the way we operate is not standard. Everyone has their own approach, their own flavor.
And that variance in styles — that diversity — is what makes us innovative. It allows us to grow and adapt in ways that our ancestors never could.
If we are able to fully understand exactly how we operate, we can use that information to maximize our effectiveness. We can actively work to make the world better.
As such, determining how we’re wired is both personal and powerful.
I recently discovered then when I set out to determine how I am wired.
It all started with a career assessment. The exercise highlighted that I approach situations with an “engineering mindset.”
I saw those words and laughed incredulously. After all, I considered myself the furthest thing from an engineer. My arithmetic skills have long been lacking, and I struggled mightily in most science classes I took.
Yet, the more I thought about it, the more I understood what the assessment said.
You see, an engineering mindset is not about complicated math formulas and high-level scientific laws. It’s about developing a consistent process for problem solving.
This means classifying what occurs in an often-messy world into a set of inputs and outputs. It means focusing on the journey between those points as much as the result.
It takes intense discipline, obsessive organization and a Spockian adherence to logic to live into this mindset.
It’s a trio that’s hard to put into practice. Yet, I’ve been making it work for years. I just hadn’t realized it until I took that assessment.
Why not? Because, as a writer and former journalist, I’ve traditionally considered myself a connoisseur of the softer skills. I’ve believed in the power of logic, but have long felt that emotion was a more critical element in my work.
Emotion is what inspires connection. It’s what drives action. It’s what makes one resonant and makes contributions memorable.
As such, I’ve harbored a profound obsession with emotion. I’ve shared my thoughts on connection, context and intent in this space and throughout my daily life. I’ve rehashed the memories that have taken my breath away, in the hope of inspiring those same feelings in others.
I can’t help it. I’m a storyteller. This is the way I communicate.
Yet, under the hood, my day-to-day life looks much different.
From the moment I spring out of bed to the moment I collapse back into it, my day is full of choices.
Everything from what shirt I wear to whether I buy a pack of Skittles from the checkout line rack is up for grabs. Anything and everything that requires time or money sparks an internal deliberation.
These choices I face daily represent a series of inputs. And the decisions I make in each instance represent outputs.
In between, I do a lot of careful calculations in real time.
I look at the costs and benefits of each option, and their probabilities. Then, I determine whether each option worth the requisite resources.
I am both deliberate and decisive in choosing the best path forward.
Many times, the choices I make put me in a better position to succeed. Or at the very least, they keep me in line with my goals.
Other times, things don’t work as anticipated. Whether through bad luck or bad choices, I don’t get the result I’m looking for.
But either way, I know that I did my due diligence. I recognize that my careful and calculated approach gave me agency over the decision. And I understand that I eliminated much of the variability of outcomes.
This approach is not for everyone. It takes a lot of energy and willpower. And that probably explains why I’m continually in thought, and able to carefully observe the details of my surroundings.
Yet, this is the way I’m wired. And now that I recognize it, I must admit that I’m quite comfortable with it.
In fact, I can’t see myself approaching life any other way.
Still, I know that others approach their daily lives quite differently. And that the world is better for this diversity of thought, this balance of cognitive approach.
The key is for us all to recognize our patterns. To see which ingredients we bring to the table, and then use them to build and innovate.
So, let’s start that process — with a question.
How are you wired?
Your answer could make all the difference.