How Learning Customer Service Skills Made me a Better Son

It’s Friday the 13th, a day Hollywood has exploited beyond measure, and the day we’re watching our backs for no good reason. But why let this silly little day ruin what’s important—the start of the weekend.

Forget about black cats and walking under ladders. Carpe Diem!

This week, we started talking about the difference between urgent vs. important. We want to remind you of the relevance of that simple game-changer in our daily lives too.

Every Friday, our newsletters are going to be focused on the lessons we’ve learnt in our lives that have helped us at work and at home.

Today's Slow to Flow—not a urinary condition—message is shared by Sam.

Growing up is like a rollercoaster ride. We start off as cute little babies, learn a bunch of cool stuff at school, and boom—adulthood hits us like a ton of bricks.

Adulting comes out of nowhere. Paying taxes, working 9-to-5, and being responsible. I've had it good compared to so many and I don't take that for granted.

But that doesn't mean it's been a cakewalk.

For example, nobody warned me that being a grown-up doesn't come with a happiness guarantee. Or that having a job doesn't automatically mean rolling in dough.

Right after college, I headed out to the Far East to start a career with a big management consulting firm. It was everything I'd been striving for:

My parents were proud, my sister was delighted she finally got space to expand her empire at home, and I was kind of pumped. Over the course of the next year, I put my head down and hustled.

I was off to a good start. From my base in Hong Kong, I'd traveled to Japan, South Korea, Singapore, Malaysia, Australia, and Vietnam. Next year, off to visit clients in China, India, the Middle East, and Africa.

As a systems analyst, my work was repetitive but challenging. I was learning new things daily and getting better at it.

I traveled home a couple times my first year. It was always great. However, after my second trip, I realized what a toll the 20 hour journey to the past—then back to the future—had on me.

The next year, I was more engrossed in work than before. My responsibilities were increasing and colleagues were depending on me. I used this as an excuse to skip the first planned trip home because I couldn't afford the downtime.

Strangely, it was about this time that I noticed that I was feeling burned out by the ruthless routine at work. It probably played a part in my decision to skip the first trip home without me realizing it.

Around late September that year, I was on what was almost a daily phone call with my folks before I left the office. A few other colleagues—including my boss Doug—from the US often hung around and did the same. The company I worked for had a direct patch to the US and gave us access to free calls.

That night, Doug overheard what must have been a louder conversation than usual. I was telling my mom that I probably wouldn't be coming home for dad's birthday and Thanksgiving. That didn't sit well with her of course and she was concerned to say the least.

Doug perfectly timed his departure to coincide with mine. I neatly stacked some loose papers on my desk, straightened out a pen or two and grabbed my stuff. I was a little embarrassed by the louder moments of the call and wondered if he'd noticed.

He had. But his reaction was not what I expected. In fact, that brief chat with him had a profound impact on my life and changed it forever.

After some casual banter, Doug asked if everything was alright. He was concerned. First he talked about work and how we interact with clients and colleagues. He framed the discussion in a way that was very relatable.

He had observed the professional approach I had developed while dealing with clients. It was often tough because of the complex and technical nature of our work. He then highlighted a particularly difficult client example and asked me to explore why and how I managed to maintain composure in that situation.

We had a livid client, they were pretty transparent about it, and the whole engagement was on the line. I was a member of the team it got dumped-on to fix.

Then he subtly let the conversation he overheard with my parents slide in to the awakening. He started by empathizing with the challenges of being away from home. Then he helped me realize that it wasn't just me facing the challenge. It was also the people at home. The people who love us. The people who's community we're a part of.

He shared a piece of advice that I'll never forget. He said something like:

This was my first real introduction to the difference between urgent vs. important. After which, I rarely missed a meeting with my parents. Following up routinely with my sister and my friends became clockwork. I was present when we were together.

I was more empathetic when they were livid and sought reasonable solutions. And finally, I was more understanding with my community of loved ones, including when I learned that my mom had been calling my boss on a weekly basis to check in on me. 🤦🏽

I have learned that at work, keeping my clients happy leads to better business outcomes. Keeping my community happy in my personal life—using the skills I apply everyday professionally—leads to better personal outcomes.