Thinking Out Loud
Holiday Smoliday: Skip the Random; Do the Intentional
I’m pretty invisible.
Most of what I do for clients, for my family, hell, probably to the world isn’t really clear or aligned to a key performance indicator. And that’s okay by me — I’m a backstage kinda gal, and Iike to watch how my soft supports have or create opportunity, action, or empowerment to the people around me. It’s like being a stage mom but without the hairspray and bobby pins (do those still exist?).
The challenging part of invisibility is that you have to rely on your own set of pick-me-ups to get through the drama, the meltdowns, the crashes that happen that no one sees or recognizes in the journey. Sometimes the key to keeping these invisible superheros going (because trust me, we need them to) requires some simple tools out of your humanity handbook. Just like adding fuel to your body, taking a moment to mediate, or enjoying a performance and celebrating through applause, it is important to celebrate those that are often unseen, and remind them that the world is a bit better because of the invisible words, actions, or ways of being in the world that have impacted you for good. So this um, post-Valentine’s Day-Gray-is-the-Color-of-February holiday I’m creating is for loving on the Invisible. And to make your celebration of Invisible Day intentional, here are a few actions you can consider:
Do you think of yourself as invisible? Great! I love it, and you should too. Write a love letter to yourself, listing out how far you’ve come (even from last year, last week!), what your “wise woman” inner voice should hear, and what she should celebrate. The love letter should be handwritten, one full page (no cheating), and put in an envelope to be opened in at least one week. Put it in a place, forget about it, but not so much that you won’t find it shortly. Yes, this is a self-full act of intentional kindness to yourself. It's hard, and yes, you can do it.
Write a love letter to your favorite organization or nonprofit. Start with the people. Even if you don’t know their names, note how they make you feel. Write about how those feelings set with you, and conclude with a sentence or two about what the world would be like without their work, or the purpose they bring to light. Put that letter in an envelope and drop it off, mail it, or shove it under a door. Don’t email it. Bonus points if you intentionally write it out by hand…because it is a different kind of effort to make to someone or something that you see beyond a thank you or AI-generated response. Think about the work that it must take to go to an organization that is working for families, immigrants, seniors, or kids. Remember those shelters or clinics, vaccine labs or emergency rooms. Watch the daily visits to the local grocery or library, community center or music hall. Those places thrive because of the people quietly making them hum. And a world without them would be dismal.
Tell a former boss or colleague that you learned how to be better at something: a more thoughtful manager, a more empathetic creator, a more efficient organizer, or a more collaborative thought partner. This might not be a “love letter” per se, but you know what to convey. In this case, I do recommend a public display of affection, via LinkedIn, a sticky note on an office door, or a shout-out in some way that allows this invisibility to be seen and to be recognized by others. This public display is a form of a quiet award that makes people feel special and suggests that leaning into this “invisible” talent might be worth cultivating further, even when the context is tough, to inspire and grow others in their circle.
If you are a people manager, consider hacking the activity that parent coach Meghan Leahy created. The premise is that you note positive and unique observations about a child you love for two weeks. Rather than big long feedback sessions, people managers, what if you threw small, specific positive notes on doors, desks or bulletin boards that show the invisible yet important qualities and dispositions they bring to your environment? “I enjoy listening to your thinking about…” or “I really appreciate the thoughtful questions you ask during meetings…” or “I think the way you are always prepared for meetings makes me better at my job —thank you for showing us attention and focus.” Stay away from the transactional compliments, and really get specific about the gifts that your people bring to the organization. Specific observations that are important to you make them important to others.
Practice slow looking, slow observation, and just paying closer attention. There are many resources on the power of exercising this muscle (here, here, and here are a few). When you slow down, when you pay less attention to efficiency and more attention to the smaller moves and practices that people do to make your life, your work, your way in the world a bit easier, you allow yourself to be more present, you appreciate the small, and you acknowledge the often invisible work of friends, coworkers, neighbors, and strangers. And at a time when people are increasingly isolating or withdrawing, the shared spaces that foster a sense of collective purpose and the greater good are disappearing. We have to fight in the areas that still exist to make them meaningful, to show and tell our feelings, and to ensure that it isn’t just random.
Recognition of the invisible is important for building leadership capacity and also re-invigorating the emotional connections between “the work” and the humans that make the magic happen. Right now, even though it is easier to look away or act busy or find other ways to distract ourselves, we have to take time to acknowledge the people who aren’t influencers, the folks who make small decisions of great importance every day, who find beauty and solace in work that will never win elections, require a red carpet dress, or garner a seat in the front row of a highly televised event.
So, my newly self-declared holiday, Invisible Day, is really about reminding people that they are seen, that they matter, and that the way they show up in the world—even in the messiest, most chaotic times—is something worth practicing. Yes, bureaucracy exists, and yes, sometimes the people in charge believe they alone are responsible for their success (cue eye roll). But slowing down to recognize the quiet, intentional acts of beauty in the world is the only antidote I can think of to challenge the notion that flashiness wins, empathy is weakness, or that humans thrive better alone rather than as part of dynamic, interconnected communities.
Because in a world that often celebrates the loudest, it’s the quiet acts of kindness and connection that truly hold us together.
