The Lost Art of Connecting

Feeling disconnected in an increasingly digital world? *The Lost Art of Connecting* offers a refreshing and practical guide to building genuine relationships, moving beyond superficial networking to foster meaningful connections. Susan McPherson dismantles the anxieties surrounding social interactions, offering a roadmap for introverts and extroverts alike. You'll discover how to transform dreaded networking events into opportunities for generous hosting, leverage your location to forge deeper bonds, and master the art of digital and in-person communication. Learn to cultivate your network as an evolving constellation of shared values, approach connections with a spirit of helpfulness, and confidently articulate your needs while understanding when and how to offer support. Prepare to rediscover the power of authentic connection, transforming your professional and personal life with renewed purpose and fulfillment. This book is your empathetic and insightful companion on the journey to building a richer, more connected life.

Susan McPherson opens with a universal tension: the dread of entering a room full of strangers, a feeling that can paralyze even the most seasoned extroverts, challenging the assumption that connection is innate. McPherson urges us to first connect with ourselves, understanding our own social needs and tendencies, as Esther Perel suggests, our relational patterns often echo our childhood experiences, influencing how we build trust and handle conflict in professional settings. Jamia Wilson emphasizes that knowing who we are, beyond societal expectations, allows for more authentic connections; like a lion who never forgets its purpose, we must reconnect with our core intentions to avoid the trap of 'spray and pray' networking. McPherson challenges the common excuse of not knowing the 'right people,' instead advocating for leveraging our existing network, recognizing that every connection, regardless of their status, holds potential value, and that perceived barriers are often self-imposed, fueled by fear of vulnerability. She then shifts the focus to clarifying our goals, not just for a single meeting, but for our broader career and life aspirations, because, as the author argues, relationships are long-term investments, and understanding our objectives helps us identify those who can offer mutual support. McPherson stresses the importance of approaching connections with a mindset of listening, learning, and offering help, moving beyond transactional networking to cultivate deeper, more meaningful relationships; in a world where loneliness is rampant, genuine human connection is not just beneficial, but vital for our well-being. Drawing from her own experiences, including the tragic loss of her mother, McPherson highlights the power of volunteering and engaging in causes we care about as a way to build community and find purpose, particularly during times of personal upheaval. She underscores the value of prioritizing connections with 'connectors'—those who can expand our network and provide access to diverse perspectives and opportunities, and notes that pre-connecting before events can ease anxiety and facilitate more meaningful interactions. Ultimately, McPherson dismantles the myth of the isolated individual, revealing the interconnected web of relationships that surrounds us, waiting to be nurtured, because, as the author suggests, the key to life lies in our ability to connect, to truly see and be seen by others.

Susan McPherson dismantles the traditional, often dreaded, concept of networking as a self-serving chore, recasting it as an act of generous hosting—a shift from 'net-working' to 'helping'. She observes how the conventional approach, symbolized by a woman steeling herself in an elevator before a networking event, is driven by a 'what's in it for me' mentality, which ultimately leads to frustration. McPherson advocates for a paradigm shift: instead of waiting for invitations, one should become the host, channeling their inner Martha Stewart. However, she cautions against confusing hosting with people-pleasing, emphasizing that true hosting balances the needs of all, including the host, while people-pleasing often stems from poorly defined boundaries and a compulsion to say yes at the expense of oneself. McPherson introduces a different kind of JOMO—the joy of meeting others—that arises from taking the initiative to invite and connect. This transforms the inner monologue from 'Will I be invited?' to 'Who should I invite?', thus reclaiming power and agency. The author cites the principle of reciprocity, supported by a 1974 experiment by sociologist Phillip Kunz, who sent holiday cards to strangers and received an overwhelming response, demonstrating that extending a gesture can create meaningful connections. McPherson stresses the importance of defining the purpose of any gathering, urging readers to set an intention before sending invitations, asking themselves if they are trying to raise awareness, educate, or fundraise. Morra Aarons-Mele adds that young people often put pressure on themselves to build the perfect network, and she advises letting go of that weight and focusing on work that brings happiness. McPherson shares her own experience of hosting monthly breakfasts for communications professionals, which established her as a go-to person in the industry and fostered lasting relationships, even before the age of the internet. She notes that even amidst global changes, like the coronavirus pandemic, connecting with intention around shared interests remains vital. The author then encourages readers to host events around specific causes or issues, highlighting how such gatherings can align individuals and create a sense of belonging. McPherson emphasizes the importance of seeding relationships through regular check-ins, recalling how her former boss, Nancy Sells, taught her to find out what makes people tick and become a resource for them. Finally, she introduces Aarons-Mele’s '10 touches rule' as a system for maintaining connections and advises readers to keep it simple, start small, and avoid becoming married to 'shoulds,' focusing instead on what truly drives their lives forward; thus, instead of a parched landscape of forced interactions, one cultivates a thriving garden where genuine relationships blossom.

Susan McPherson, in this insightful chapter, explores how disrupting one's location, whether by choice or circumstance, presents a unique opportunity to forge deeper connections. The initial tension arises from the daunting feeling of starting from scratch in a new environment, a sentiment McPherson addresses by highlighting the resources already at our disposal, resources we often overlook. Cate Luzio, founder of Luminary, emphasizes the importance of being relational rather than transactional, a shift McPherson underscores by advocating for volunteering as a means to build value-based connections and establish roots in a new community. It’s about stepping outside the digital echo chamber and engaging in tangible ways. McPherson reveals that volunteering not only benefits the community but also enriches the employee experience, boosting productivity and fostering a sense of belonging, a surprising antidote to isolation in an increasingly remote world. The author then pivots to the concept of coworking spaces—both physical and digital—as fertile grounds for community building, spaces where diverse individuals can co-create and inspire one another, a stark contrast to the loneliness often associated with telecommuting. These spaces, as Amy Nelson of The Riveter points out, provide a platform for conversations that matter, moving beyond surface-level interactions to address deeper needs for connection and support. Tiffany Dufu's The Cru exemplifies this, intentionally matching women from diverse backgrounds to foster collaboration and break echo chambers. McPherson emphasizes the power of random connections, those seemingly fleeting encounters that can unexpectedly blossom into fruitful relationships, highlighting Mark Granovetter's research on how weak ties often lead to new job opportunities. It's about recognizing the value in every interaction, no matter how small. Finally, McPherson introduces the S-curve model, illustrating that building a network, like any growth process, involves a slow initial phase before exponential growth occurs, urging readers to persevere through the discomfort and embrace bravery, as Amy Nelson advises, reminding us that we belong in any room we choose to enter; the connection is an art requiring practice and resilience, but the rewards are immeasurable, a constellation of relationships illuminating our path forward.

In this insightful chapter, Susan McPherson navigates the evolving landscape of connection, revealing how to maximize both in-person and digital interactions. Once, business meetings were confined to meals or boardrooms, but now, the choices—Zoom, pop-up events, even snail mail—can lead to decision fatigue. McPherson underscores the irreplaceable value of in-person meetings for building trust, citing research on the power of touch, a handshake igniting the brain's reward center, fostering honesty and cooperation. Yet, she cautions against dismissing the surprising power of online gatherings, born from necessity during the pandemic, where humanity peeked through polished facades. McPherson urges us to consider the meeting's goal: trust-building demands the intimacy of face-to-face, while efficient communication thrives in the digital realm. She introduces Fran Hauser's advice on personalizing virtual meetings by following up on previous conversations, fostering psychological safety, and Michael Ronen's experiments with digital intimacy, suggesting small groups and shared sensory experiences can bridge physical distances. A digital intimacy is possible, as Ronen defines it, as the feeling of looking into someones soul, even if they are in a different continent. McPherson stresses the importance of preparation, brevity, and a focus on learning from others, echoing Alison Gelles's concept of a "listening tour." The author then pivots to the crucial art of listening, highlighting Dr. Julian Treasure's RASA technique—receive, appreciate, summarize, ask—as a pathway to deeper understanding. She reminds us that listening requires 100 percent of our attention. Celeste Head emphasizes the need to overcome "Zoom fatigue" by actively taking oneself out of the equation and genuinely seeking to help others. McPherson introduces the concept of relational energy, noting that some people act as fountains, sparking energy, while others are drains, sapping it away, and to seek the former. Finally, McPherson champions authenticity, urging readers to be themselves and connect with those who resonate, and offers a practical guide to choosing the right medium for different contacts, from the intimacy of IRL to the efficiency of Zoom and the personal touch of snail mail, a handwritten note in a digital world.

In "The Lost Art of Connecting," Susan McPherson introduces the 'Constellation Effect,' urging us to view our networks not as static lists, but as ever-evolving storyboards. The key, McPherson suggests, lies in focusing on shared values and missions rather than limiting ourselves by job titles or immediate needs. Elevating our objectives to inspire others, as Paul van Zyl did with The Conduit, transforms transactional networking into community building around a higher purpose. For women, McPherson emphasizes the need for two networks: one for navigating the corporate ladder and another, female-only, for empathy and shared experiences, exemplified by Jennifer DaSilva's Connect4Women and Dee Poku's WIE. Like celestial navigation, knowing your own story becomes paramount, enabling you to articulate your mission and attract others to your cause. The author highlights the importance of asking others who they know, as long as the relationship is reciprocal, and revisiting dormant ties, as Shoket discovered with her Badass Babes dinners, to uncover unexpected connections. McPherson reminds us that missions may need to adapt, as demonstrated by The Conduit's pivot during the pandemic, turning challenges into opportunities to serve their community. Finally, she challenges readers to assess the diversity of their network, recognizing that uncommon commonalities often forge the strongest bonds. In essence, building a constellation is about intentionality, authenticity, and a willingness to evolve alongside the ever-changing world, ensuring that our connections are not just links, but sources of mutual growth and inspiration—a vibrant tapestry woven from shared purpose.

In this chapter of *The Lost Art of Connecting*, Susan McPherson urges us to reframe our approach to networking and relationship-building around the simple yet profound question: "How can I help?" She challenges the conventional, often transactional, nature of networking, advocating for a shift from "what can I get?" to "what can I offer?" This small change, McPherson argues, can dissolve the superficiality that makes networking events so dreaded, fostering genuine connections and unexpected opportunities. She illustrates how leading with generosity equalizes the playing field, dismantling the perception of weakness and establishing a position of support and guidance. McPherson shares practical advice, cautioning against robotic repetitions of the question, and instead, encourages mindful offers of assistance based on genuine synergy. The author emphasizes that everyone possesses a unique currency—an introduction, a skill, a perspective—that can be offered to others, regardless of prestige or permission. Moreover, McPherson highlights the importance of curiosity and active listening, urging us to understand differing perspectives to fuel both business success and broader understanding in a polarized world. Susan Danziger's work with The Spark of Hudson exemplifies this ethos, creating a space for learning and connection to bridge cultural and economic divides. Shiza Shahid's journey, from co-founding the Malala Fund to creating Our Place, showcases how a commitment to helping others can align one with their passion and purpose. McPherson also addresses the fear of failure, suggesting that a helping mindset diminishes the risk, turning potential failures into opportunities for connection and support. Adam Grant’s wisdom on setting boundaries as a giver is also highlighted, ensuring that generosity doesn't lead to being taken advantage of. Ultimately, McPherson reveals that asking "How can I help?" is not just a networking tactic but a guiding principle that leads to meaningful connections, personal fulfillment, and a path toward leaving the world better than we found it—a constellation of kindness where everyone feels seen.

In "The Lost Art of Connecting," Susan McPherson frames the art of asking as a natural extension of genuine connection, likening it to Abraham Lincoln's preparation for chopping down a tree: the most crucial part is sharpening the ax, which in this case, means cultivating relationships. McPherson cautions against viewing connections as mere transactions, emphasizing that true connection endures beyond a single ask, constantly evolving and deepening. The author advocates for thorough preparation, urging listeners to research contacts as if preparing an Oscars introduction, mastering key data points like age, passions, and recent news to demonstrate genuine interest. She highlights the importance of understanding diverse interaction styles, noting that cultural and personal backgrounds influence preferences for communication, be it a handshake, a hug, or a virtual meeting. McPherson introduces the three pillars of building trust—competence, experience, and shared values—essential precursors to making any ask; like planting tiny seeds of trust in a garden. She further explores cultural nuances in trust-building, noting how openness is valued in North American and European cultures, while competence is prioritized in East Asian cultures. The power of the five-minute ask is then revealed, encouraging small, early engagements to foster a sense of investment and belonging, mirroring Douglas Atkin's commitment curve, where small requests gradually deepen relationships. McPherson provides a toolkit of ice-breaker questions, designed to spark conversation and uncover common interests, ultimately making the other person feel seen and heard. She suggests offering three options for a yes, increasing the likelihood of a positive response and maintaining the relationship's momentum. Ultimately, McPherson reframes the ask not as a daunting hurdle, but as a natural progression in a well-cultivated relationship, emphasizing that deepening connections and building trust are the keys to successful and fulfilling interactions.

In 'PITCH PERFECT,' Susan McPherson addresses the anxieties around crafting an elevator pitch, framing it as essential for navigating diverse social and professional landscapes. She challenges the automatic impulse to 'make the ask,' suggesting that sometimes courage and resourcefulness can bypass the need for permission or funding, a lesson Baratunde Thurston exemplified when he spontaneously created 'live on lockdown.' McPherson introduces the '444' framework—envisioning needs across four years, four months, and four weeks—to prioritize and clarify requests. She acknowledges the impact of external perceptions, urging awareness of how factors like gender and race influence interactions, advocating for skillful and graceful communication. McPherson stresses that mastery in asking requires constant practice, even embracing failures as learning opportunities, and encourages assuming a positive response to boost confidence. Rhonesha Byng's story illustrates this, showcasing how her assertive approach as a young journalist led to significant achievements. Cindi Leive emphasizes the importance of building genuine connections before making requests, highlighting that kindness amplifies success. McPherson draws a parallel to comedians who excel at reading their audience, advocating for a conversational approach in pitches and interviews. Ultimately, she champions clear, direct communication, urging individuals to articulate their needs and aspirations without self-deprecation, understanding that clarity paves the way for meaningful collaborations. It’s a dance of give and take, where authenticity and clear intention create opportunities, transforming a potentially daunting interaction into a fluid exchange of value.

Susan McPherson, in "The Lost Art of Connecting," addresses the common misconception that introversion hinders one's ability to connect and succeed, especially in a world that often celebrates extroversion. She clarifies that introversion isn't social anxiety but rather a preference for how one regains energy—through quiet reflection versus social interaction. McPherson introduces Shari Coulter Ford, a powerful female executive who used silence strategically, teaching the power of observation and thoughtful engagement. The author emphasizes that success isn't limited to those with the "gift of gab," and highlights Susan Cain's argument that our culture often undervalues introversion. McPherson then pivots to Morra Aarons-Mele, an introverted expert connector and author of "Hiding in the Bathroom," who champions inwardness as a superpower. Aarons-Mele encourages introverts to leverage their strengths rather than trying to become extroverts, suggesting they discern who is most important to their career and build connections intentionally. To navigate social situations, McPherson advises introverts to partner with "super connectors"—individuals who thrive on connecting others—to intentionally leverage networks without feeling drained. She paints a vivid picture of Lois Weisberg, an "uber-connector" known for her generosity and ability to facilitate meaningful connections, illustrating that the purpose of connecting extends beyond personal gain to creating positive change. McPherson also suggests scaffolding events by setting clear goals, like the "event triumvirate": meet three people, learn three new ideas, share three things. This offers a structured approach to networking, reducing anxiety and increasing the value derived from such events. Finally, she underscores that introverts possess unique strengths, particularly originality and the capacity for deep reflection, which are invaluable assets in a world prone to groupthink, a phenomenon where consensus trumps individual thought. Thus, McPherson gently urges introverts to embrace their natural tendencies, recognizing that one doesn't need to be the loudest person in the room to be a deep and effective connector, and find their own way to shine, even if it involves a strategic retreat to the bathroom.

In a world saturated with digital noise, Susan McPherson navigates the complexities of modern communication, urging us to move beyond mere efficiency towards genuine connection. She highlights the paradox of having endless channels yet struggling with misinterpretation and burnout. McPherson advocates picking up the phone when emotions run high, reminding us that digital mediums often strip away crucial nonverbal cues, leading to incorrect assumptions—a phenomenon known as cyber-disinhibition. The author introduces the concept of relationalism, a framework prioritizing the depth of relationships over the quantity, advocating for communications that strengthen commitment and shared values, seeing each person as a whole human rather than a transaction. She emphasizes the power of kindness in communication, citing research that links happy work relationships to increased productivity and positive feedback loops. McPherson cautions against diminishing one's e-power by using weak language, suggesting clear, succinct messaging that respects the recipient's time while upholding one's own position. Direct messages, often dismissed, are presented as tools for forging deep connections, especially when vulnerability is shared, creating a lifeline of support. However, the author warns against the false intimacy of digital relationships, where limited online exposure can distort our perception of others, and challenges the notion of authenticity as a rigid construct, suggesting that growth comes from challenging our sense of self. Feedback, a critical component, should be delivered with kindness and directness, aiming to build rather than tear down, fostering respect and intimacy. McPherson addresses the pervasive issue of unconscious bias, urging awareness and repair to bridge divides and promote genuine communication, advocating understanding over judgment. Finally, she tackles burnout, a consequence of constant digital connectivity, stressing the importance of drawing boundaries and practicing self-care to maintain well-being and productivity. In essence, when in doubt, overcommunicate, seeking clarity and human connection in every interaction, coding back humanity into our digital exchanges, because the secret weapon to building a meaningful connection is finding a human connection.

In this insightful chapter, Susan McPherson illuminates the often-underestimated power of the follow-up, transforming it from a rote chore into an art form that deepens relationships and fosters meaningful connections. She observes that many people fail to nurture new contacts, dismissing them if immediate collaboration isn't obvious, a shortsighted view McPherson urges us to reconsider. She advocates for immediate action after initial meetings, suggesting a follow-up email drafted promptly to demonstrate enthusiasm and solidify the connection. McPherson emphasizes the importance of truly seeing others, advising us to jot down notes during meetings to personalize follow-ups, proving that we were actively listening—a small act that makes a person feel remembered and heard. It's not just about business; it's about celebrating their wins, acknowledging their milestones, and even facilitating connections among others, weaving a tapestry of mutual support. McPherson introduces Dr. David Rock's SCARF model, highlighting the human need for safety, certainty, autonomy, relatedness, and fairness in relationships, reminding us that our brains are wired to avoid threats and seek rewards, even in social interactions. She underscores the significance of acting on advice received, as ignoring a colleague's input can damage the relationship, revealing the surprising power dynamics at play. McPherson encourages us to move beyond small talk, steering conversations towards meaningful topics that foster vulnerability and deepen connections, even in professional settings. She suggests creating rituals, like regular coffee meetings or team check-ins, to build cohesion and trust, recognizing the psychological safety, purpose, and performance they provide. Finally, McPherson challenges us to identify each person's "Chief Differentiating Factor" (CDF) and remind them of their specialness, fostering a sense of value and recognition that strengthens bonds, and to remain curious, always seeking to learn from others, even those who initially seem outside our sphere, because every person holds a unique perspective that can enrich our own understanding, turning every encounter into a potential masterclass in human connection.

In "SPREAD THE WEALTH," Susan McPherson explores the surprising power of money to forge deeper connections, revealing that financial support, transparent conversations, and strategic investments can pave the way for meaningful relationships. She notes that even small contributions can link individuals to causes and communities they cherish, sparking connections with like-minded people. McPherson recounts her personal journey after inheriting money, shifting from donating to nonprofits to angel investing in female-founded businesses, thus amplifying women's voices and creating jobs. This wasn't merely about financial returns, but about having a seat at the table, sharing knowledge, and building synergistic relationships. The author elucidates how angel investing, once exclusive, has become more accessible through legislation like the Jumpstart Our Business Startups Act, enabling smaller investments and equity crowdfunding. She shines a light on the underrepresentation of women and minorities in funding, advocating for greater inclusion to leverage diverse skills and perspectives. McPherson underscores the importance of dispelling awkwardness around money, encouraging open conversations about earnings to foster transparency and support. She introduces Linda Davis Taylor’s “Money Talks” as a model for convening discussions about financial well-being and advocacy. The chapter offers practical advice on asking for funding, emphasizing the importance of pre-existing meaningful relationships to bolster crowdfunding campaigns. Finally, McPherson illustrates how investment relationships can evolve into broader mentoring and networking opportunities, citing Fran Hauser’s “Nice Girl Army” as an example of unexpected relational dividends. She urges readers to stay open to the myriad possibilities that arise when investing in people and causes they deeply believe in; it's about planting seeds that blossom into unexpected gardens of connection and shared purpose, recognizing that sometimes the richest returns aren't monetary, but relational.

In this chapter, Susan McPherson navigates the delicate balance between offering expertise for free and recognizing when to charge for services, particularly within the overlapping circles of corporate responsibility and personal connections. McPherson emphasizes the importance of taking action on causes one deeply cares about, recounting the Dont Ban Equality campaign where her established network became invaluable. The initial skepticism that companies would publicly oppose abortion bans was overcome through leveraging long-term relationships built on trust and consistent engagement. McPherson highlights the lesson of sometimes needing to set aside perceived expertise and act where one can, illustrated by Rachel Gerrol Cohen's response to Hurricane Dorian; the NEXUS community's swift action demonstrated that impact doesn't always require formal qualifications, just a willingness to help. McPherson shifts focus, advocating for aligning oneself with inspiring people and passions, not just projects. Ginny Suss's involvement in the Womens March and the Resistance Revival Chorus exemplifies this, showing how being embedded in a community of passionate individuals leads to organic opportunities and asks. The chapter underscores that genuine connection and a proactive approach to building relationships are more potent than transactional networking. Like a vintner tending to a vineyard, cultivating relationships yields fruit when you least expect it. Ultimately, the most meaningful contributions arise from a blend of expertise, empathy, and a commitment to shared values, transforming personal passions into collective action.

In this chapter, Susan McPherson advocates for a proactive approach to connection, urging readers to not only embrace the ethos of 'always take the meeting' but also to innovate continuously on what meetings can be. She notes how the constraints of 2020 spurred creative adaptations in how people gather, referencing Priya Parker's insights on the unexpected uses of platforms like Zoom, originally designed for business but now a tool for everything from dissertation defenses to virtual raves. McPherson encourages curiosity towards new communication modes, emphasizing that each offers a chance to understand human interaction better. She highlights the importance of looking beyond traditional networking circles to one's immediate neighbors, recounting Maryam Banikarim's story of Nextdoor's origins in addressing social fragmentation and fostering local connections, even in a city like New York. Consider the woman who posted on Nextdoor seeking friendship and received over 140 replies, a testament to the latent desire for community, and McPherson stresses the need to stay open to unexpected connections, even during routine errands, illustrating this with Brandt Anderson's serendipitous meeting with Angela Mwanza on a bus in Tulum, which led to a filmmaking boot camp for refugee children. Anderson's chance encounter at a local store, resulting in a call with a king, exemplifies the unpredictable nature of meaningful connections, if you are present and open to the opportunity. McPherson calls for breaking traditional meeting rules, fostering serendipitous encounters, and actively solidifying connections through follow-up, radical transparency, and genuine support, creating a constellation of contacts built on mutual generosity and understanding. The author urges readers to actively find ways to make conversations deeper, resist the safe bet of small talk and open the possibility for greater closeness and intimacy, creating rituals, expressing gratitude, remaining curious, and being utterly generous with support. Ultimately, McPherson frames the art of connecting as an engaging, exciting journey filled with unexpected opportunities to enrich both personal and professional life, solidifying relationships through action and mutual support.

“The Lost Art of Connecting” isn't about amassing contacts; it's a guide to fostering genuine relationships. It emphasizes self-awareness as the bedrock of connection, urging readers to understand their own needs before engaging with others. The book reframes networking as reciprocal help, prioritizing shared values over transactional gains. McPherson champions authentic communication, advocating for mindful use of technology and courageous in-person interactions. Ultimately, connecting becomes a vehicle for positive change, driven by curiosity, empathy, and a commitment to building a more connected and supportive world. It's about transforming networking from a 'me' to a 'we' endeavor, seeding relationships with kindness and watching them blossom into something truly meaningful.