Keeping things concise is an art form. Anyone can explain any topic given infinite time and infinite attention from the other party, but you don’t have anything close to either.
Being concise isn’t my strong suit. I’m practicing. My boss likes to occasionally say to me, “Tweet.” She’s reminding me to keep my messages short, verbal or written. Fit it in 280 characters. I love the fact that we can get all that across in one word, because it fills her own advice.
When I’m stressed, I construct a haiku about whatever I’m stressed about. I don’t aim for deep poetic impression or anything. I just find that the ten or so breaths it takes me to phrase what’s worrying me in exactly seventeen syllables is a really great meditation. It cuts away extraneous noise, forces me to focus, and takes me out of the bad moment and puts me back in a good one.
Practice brevity. Tweet.
The Opportunity Machine 