It is possible to try too hard. Eyes too wide. Teeth too clenched. Fists too tight.
Back when I had a £1m+ wage bill I, sometimes, probably, definitely, pushed too hard with new business development. And as a consequence – lost. Nowadays, I pootle along. Saying what I think. Doing what I can. And working relationships, somehow, arrive.
I went to my first wedding aged five. My first tie. My first shirt (probably). And my first introduction to confetti.
‘Open your hand,’ my mum said, looking down. So I did. And seconds later she rained colourful paper confetti into my palm.
‘Now. Hold tight!’ She said. ‘Don’t drop it. And when the bride comes close… throw!’
I was nervous. This was quite a responsibility for a tiny person, stood outside the church on a hot summer day. Waiting. My heart quickening. My confetti-filled fist tightening. And I was sweating.
After an age, the bride arrived and, when she did appear in front of me I – as instructed – launched! A small, colourful, golf-ball sized paper mâché confetti ball bounced off her forehead and rolled back towards me on the ground. I stared at it, mission not quite accomplished. And a little tear appeared in my eye as I stared up at the smiling adults.
It is possible to try too hard. Eyes too wide. Teeth too clenched. Fists too tight.