Biz Networking - Esti Peshin’s Blog

Originally, I learned to ski in French. At the time - and if you are following my blog closely, you already know it was 18 years ago - I was a student at the Israeli School in Paris, and our yearly field-trip consisted of 10 days at a ski resort in Chamrousse. Naturally, all ski lessons were held in French.

There is a rich ski-related vocabulary in French. In my recent vacation in Chamonix, after a semi-nasty fall, I complained to Catherine (the excellent bi-lingual ESF ski instructor that led our group) that my falling was due to “loss of traction”.

Catherine, who speaks perfect English, failed to understand my meaning. Naturally, she understood the word traction, but she insisted that it did not apply to skis on snow. Eventually, after some mutual word searching, in English and French, we agreed that my actual meaning was that my fall was due to “loss of the skis’ stickiness on the snow”.

OK, some of you know me by now, and understand that such a statement is not neat enough for me. A candy is sticky, glue might be sticky, but skies?!… 

Anyway, Catherine identified my uneasiness, and thought the problem through. Eventually, when we were riding together on the telesiege (the chair thingy which carries skiers up the slope), Catherine recalled the French word for “stickiness” – adherence - commonly used for describing skis’ stickiness on the snow. Apparently, I fell because my skis lost their “adhérence “.

During the same telesiege ride (which was quite a long one), Catherine and I discussed also what I refer to as the “miracle of ski”.  

Consider tens and hundreds of skiers skiing down the same slope at the same time, mostly in speeds ranging from 20-40 KM/hour, following different routes down the slope, some slaloming (In French: triage) and some skiing straight down, and yet – I seldom saw collisions.  

This phenomena which I consider as one of the miracles of ski, requires each and every skier to concentrate on his route, while following simple rules (ex. The skier coming from above should strive to avoid the skiers below him), and while demonstrating the highest measure of consideration to his/her fellow skiers. This also requires skiers to trust one another, each counting on the other’s skill and adherence to the same simple rules. The concentration, rules, consideration and trust maximizes the chances that all the skiers will reach their goal safely. 

This got me thinking about the business world, which can be at times a ruthless world, where business people do not hesitate to dangerously cross one another in order to maximize their gain. 

Perhaps, if all business people practiced the same four traits – concentrating on their goals, following simple, and commonly accepted, rules, demonstrating consideration to one another and trusting one another – the business place would be a better place…

P.S. In the above picture you can see “the a1 group”, I am on the right, and next to me is the almighty Catherine.

Having just returned from an (amazing) ski vacation in Chamonix, I believe now would be a good time to admit that the last time I skied (prior to this vacation, of course) was 18 years ago.  

I mentioned this fact to quite a few people these past few weeks, and the most common reaction was “Well, it’s like riding a bicycle…”. I bet that many of you had the same thought.  

This recurring reaction got me thinking. Has anybody really experimented whether one’s bike-riding capability remains reasonably intact even after 20 or so years of inexperience? Wouldn’t it deteriorate, or even vanish? 

I, for one, believe that a skill, any skill, derives from combination of knowledge and confidence. I doubt one’s confidence remains intact after such a long time. Hence, I don’t subscribe to the view that one’s bike-riding capability would remain intact after 20 or so years.  

Oh well, the purpose of the trip was to enjoy some skiing (a divine sport), but I did have a chance of conducting a somewhat empiric experiment on maintaining one’s skiing level after 18 years.

The result: SUCCESS;

Confidence level: slightly deteriorated;

Overall skill level: imporved.

Just like riding a bike….

A conclusion note: “Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving”… (Albert Einstein)

Originally, I wanted to dedicate this post to the amazing world of dog’s networking. 

However, sitting in a flight to Geneva, en route to a ski vacation, I found it difficult to concentrate on a witty and charming piece. I thought I’d utilize this opportunity to give you a sense of how it came about that I started blogging…  

I am not what you’d call an “early adaptor” of technology. I seldom read on-line papers, believing a paper should literally be made out of paper, I still own a VCR, and do not own a DVD, and I have only recently been introduced to the exciting world of blogging.  I must give credit where credit’s due.

If it weren’t for Tsahar Rotem, the “Content Man”, who taught me the ropes of blogging, you would have been reading these words right now. Tsahar is a true believer in the power of words, and an expert in promoting sites via wise content management. He practices what he preaches in his excellent blog contentman.wordpress.com. Hebrew readers might want to check it out.   

I previously wondered what blogging and content management have to do with business. Well, a blog might be perceived as another mode of self expression. However, Tsahar taught me that a well written blog focusing on articles in a specific area may assist its owner in promoting and positioning himself as a legitimate expert in area. Tsahar himself is a great example; he gained his reputation as one of the main content management experts in Israel, and drew a lot of attention using his well written blog.

OK, seat belts on, Chamonix here we come…

Note: This post was written on Mar-4, en route to a ski vacation at Chamonix. Unfortunately, due to connectivity problems, I only got a chance to post it now. BTW, the vacation is great, and I will be sure to write a post or two about it.