Weak Ties Impact Us More Than We Realize

Weak Ties can open up new vistas of opportunity for us: 

Mark Granovetter is an American sociologist and professor at Stanford and is best known for his work in economic sociology.  His Weak Tie theory is that acquaintances are likely to be more influential than close friends, particularly in social networks. He surveyed 282 Boston-based workers and found that most of them got their jobs through someone they knew. But only a minority got the job through a close friend; 84% got their job through those weak-tie relationships – meaning casual contacts whom they saw only occasionally. 
 
Office design is also impacted by Weak Tie theory. From the internet I learned the following: Steve Jobs oversaw the design of the Pixar building in order to generate serendipitous meetings among employees from different departments. The building has a large central hall through which all employees have to pass several times a day. Jobs wanted colleagues to bump into each other, grab coffee and shoot the breeze. He believed in the power of these seemingly random conversations to fire up creativity.
 
Weak ties have an effect when losing a loved one to:

Below is a picture of my late mother and me. Click on the link to hear my reaction to losing her – illustrating that Weak Ties have an effect when losing a loved one too.
 

https://archive.org/details/podcast_preserving-your-bloom-with-ir_losing-my-mother_1000407295306
 
Weak ties can distract ourselves from weariness: 
 
Here is a column I wrote in April, 2014 illustrating this point. It was written when my husband was going through a debilitating health crisis. I was so tired – looking for diversion from the daily grind. Surprisingly, I found it from a Weak Tie. 

Tree Care as a Metaphor for Self-Care

                  
The days drag on. My husband remains in convalescent mode. Well-meaning friends pull me aside to tell me I look tired. Bone tired. No kidding?
 
I try to distract myself from the weariness. 
 
Diversion and direction come from an unexpected source: a tall, middle-aged husky fellow with a full beard, attired in flannel shirt, ripped jeans, combat boots and a straw cowboy hat which is perched precariously on his head. He came knocking on my door and convinced me that my grand oaks were in need of his services. I was an easy sell. We’ve lived here eight years – all without maintaining those majestic wonders.
 
I check out his credentials and give the go-ahead.
 
While his crew spends six hours re-invigorating my trees – pruning, trimming, cutting, and fertilizing – he educates me on the proper care of these living organisms. 
 
He points out a tree trunk with a lost limb. “Long ago,” he notes, “this limb had been removed properly,” he remarks. “It was causing undue stress on the rest of the tree. Because this limb has been removed properly, the tree will completely heal and close around the wound. If the scar does not heal properly, water sets in the cavity and, after a time, will slowly rot the inside of the trunk.” 
 
He looks at me intently. “It’s okay to have scars. They just must heal properly.”
 
“Look up at the canopy of limbs overhead,” he instructs me. “It’s important to clean out the sucker limbs so that the wind can blow freely through and the tree won’t topple when in the eye of a storm. Suckers catch the wind and take nutrients from the rest of the tree, especially the tree tops.” 
 
He looks at me intently. “It’s okay to allow for some hanger-ons, but too many suckers use up the nutrients and then the tree begins to die from the top down.” 
 
“One more thing,” he tosses over his shoulder as he climbs into the cab of his truck. “The size of the canopy gives a suggestion of the size of the tree’s surface roots. Take care of the roots – they are reputed to hold all the tree’s strength.”
 
I head back to my husband’s rehab room refreshed, energized and more hopeful than I have felt in days. Trees are living organisms who naturally know how to survive. We humans should take a few clues and cues from them:
      Allow ourselves to heal from within, not with a quick outer fix
     Shed the excess baggage to lighten our load
     Honor and draw strength from our roots – the part of us that holds our power and potency 
 
And don’t be reluctant to take advice from a weathered,  bearded arborist who draws beautiful metaphors between caring for trees and surviving life’s perils.
 
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
 
Iris Ruth Pastor