Why Talking (and Not Talking) Still Feels Like a Puzzle

scribbles from someone who can’t stop overthinking things

Alright, so—let me start by admitting I’m no guru on this. I’m just some random person who spent way too much time clicking around this archive of communicationvalue.com, scratching my head (and occasionally nodding). It’s weirdly comforting to see notes from… what, 2006? They’re like diary entries on how to make words count. But here we are, nearly two decades later, and I’m still tripping over my own sentences.

Texts buzz in with “K” or a 👍, emails land with bullet lists—everything neat. And don’t get me wrong, I love a clean inbox as much as the next person. But sometimes I feel like we’re packaging feelings into little boxes, stamping them “OK to ship.” Have you ever sent a message and then stared at your screen thinking, “Wait, did that even make sense?” I have—literally five minutes ago. 🙄

I stumbled on an article that claimed workplace communication is more crucial than ever. Sure, metrics and KPIs are sexy, but can you really chart the warmth of a voice note or the relief in a coworker’s “Hey, you good?” Nah, you can’t. And honestly? I’m kinda glad. Because if everything got too clinical, we’d lose the messy bits—the spontaneous laughs, the “Oops, that came out wrong” moments.

Imagine this: you’re on a Zoom call, right? You say “uh” like ten times, your dog barks, your kid barges in asking for snacks, and you miss half the point. But then someone cracks a joke about their cat and suddenly it’s not a work meeting anymore—it’s… human. My guess: those chaotic interruptions do more for team spirit than any slide deck ever will.

Over on Communication Value Circle, they talk big game about aligning messaging with strategy. Cool, cool—strategy matters, but sometimes it feels like reading a manual when you just wanna chat. I remember once I typed an email, then deleted half because I got self-conscious, then added parentheses with a sorry excuse: “(ugh, that sounded stiff).” And you know what? The recipient wrote back with three emojis and actual warmth. That tiny flaw made the exchange memorable.

Side note: I found a neat piece on empathy in the workplace—Empathy at Work. It’s fancy but simple: caring a bit—just a bit—goes a long way. So next time you craft your “official” response, maybe toss in “Hope your Monday’s bearable” or “Sorry for the wall of text lol.” It’s ok if it’s imperfect.

Okay, confession time—I sometimes pause mid-conversation to think, “Am I saying too much?” or “Did I say enough?” It’s exhausting. And then I remind myself: no one’s grading us. We’re not auditioning for a communication Olympics. We’re just trying to connect, in our own roundabout, typo-filled ways.

Oh, and let’s not forget nonverbal stuff—tone, body language, that tiny hesitation before you speak. Even a half-smile can carry miles of meaning. I wish the old site had more on that, but hey, maybe that’s on me to dig deeper.

So, what’s the takeaway? Maybe it’s this: embrace the stumbles. Leave a typo or two—like “definately” instead of “definitely”—and watch how people respond. Admit when you’re lost (“I’m kinda confused, can you clarify?”). Laugh at your own awkwardness. Because in the end, communication isn’t about flawless delivery—it’s about showing up, warts and all.

That’s all from me. If nothing else, I hope you feel less alone in the jumble of chats and calls. We’re all just figuring it out, one typo and one heartfelt “hey, how are you?” at a time.