Getting Lynne Out of a Silo

Most communication silos start because our brains love to fill in the blanks: making assumptions so we can jump to a conclusion. While this is normal for our minds, we do better by taking a minute to see the bigger picture.

You came here to learn more about me (thanks for that). Maybe you already have some judgments:

  • When you hear “neuroscience nerd,” do you think “stuffy”?
  • When you hear “professional speaker,” do you think “loves to hear herself talk”?
  • When you hear “leadership communication coach,” do you think “know it all”?

Here’s the truth. My path has been as winding, filled with missteps, confusion and lucky breaks as yours.

On this journey, I discovered one of the best ways to break out of any silo is to be honest—and vulnerable. These are some of the big, small and embarrassing moments that explain who I am.

(If you need an official bio, here’s that)

Santa seems bored and my brother Mark and I look worried. It might be the mugshot number at the bottom …

 

 

 

 

 

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Being a camp counselor (with my buddy “Toots”) taught me to find the right words to comfort homesick nine-year-olds.

 

 

 

 

 

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I moved from Minneapolis to Chicago for a job that fell through nine months later. Thank goodness for family and friends—and a better job.

 

 

 

 

 

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How amazing that so many have found my “neuroscience nerdiness” on Lookers, Listeners and Touchers to be useful!

 

 

 

 

 

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How fun to spend time with my stepdaughter Lauren, her husband Ryan and grandkids Wyatt and Sloane!

 

 

 

 

 

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My stage debut was a recital at six: “The Bunny Rabbit Blues.” My mother could make me a costume but not a ballerina!

 

 

 

 

 

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This was my first job in PR. I wasn’t afraid of numbers so worked with CEOs and CFOs of public companies (despite the perm and tie).

 

 

 

 

 

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Our family spent time together each summer. Here’s my mother, my aunt and me in our heyday.

 

 

 

 

 

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Ending my marriage with Larry taught me to have tough talks without rancor. I’m grateful we’re good friends.

 

 

 

 

 

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This was my rescue dog Simon’s version of Covid-19 lockdown. He gave me perspective. At least I didn’t have to wear the cone of shame.

 

 

 

 

 

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As the copy editor for the high school newspaper, even then I let my “vorpal blade go snicker-snack.”

 

 

 

 

 

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Here is Mohammed Hassan. He took a friend and me through the Valley of the Kings on donkeys (mine was named “Whiskey and Soda”).

 

 

 

 

 

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Starting my communication practice was a lot like skydiving: leaving a safe place and not knowing where you’ll land.

 

 

 

 

 

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As president of the National Speakers Association Illinois Chapter, I was lucky to be surrounded by talented people.

 

 

 

 

 

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Some days it’s easier than others to face health challenges in our family with grace. Love—and lots of patience—gets us through.

 

 

 

 

 

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Here’s to taking our humanity—in all its glory and messiness—with us wherever we go.

Want to break out of your own or your organization’s communication silo by being at home with your own vulnerability as a leader?

Let's Talk

Email, call 847-729-5716, or book some time on my calendar.

Here’s my promise: to truly understand what you need, appreciate the chance to chat, and have fun!