Leadership is not just about sticking to one’s own style. You have to adapt to suit the people you manage.

One of the organisational constructs Henry and I use most effectively in Leon is ’Situational Leadership’. We picked it up from Bain, but Bain I’m sure were inspired by someone else (so if you are the creator of it, write me a postcard). It is a construct that determines what style of leadership you should adopt, given someone’s confidence and competence in a certain task.

When someone is new to a team, or maybe new to being Prime Minister, they will probably be on a bit of a high. New pencil case. New car. New set of staff that stand up straight when you walk into Downing Street and brief you as you march down the corridor (please tell me that’s what it’s like). But the trouble is, you have probably not done that exact job before. You may be fresh from your MBA and starting out in banking. Or a sales director who is now sales director in a slightly new company with a different culture and products and selling cycles to your previous company. Or you may not have actually been Prime Minister before, so you may at first be a bit rubbish at it. Now if you have someone in your team who has high confidence but low competence you have to be DIRECTIVE. “Go and see Janet from accounts and ask for the South Region’s sales figures, and ask her to format it the way she did for last year’s national conference”. “Take this knife and chop these onions like you see in the picture – into cubes. And use the knife with the yellow handle”. This is stage 1.

Stage 2 is where your report realises they may not know as much as they thought. Confidence plummets and the whole thing can get a bit sticky. The MBA hire who has been turned into a demi-god during recruitment realises they have a lot to learn about the reality of the job. The trainee chef realises he or she takes an hour to chop the same amount of onions the head chef can chop in five minutes. This is stage 2, and it’s where the leader needs to change his or her style to COACHING. It’s time to explain how it’s done, demonstrate it, let them have a go, and then review how they have done. Repeat this cycle until cooked.

Stage 3 is when the team member is starting to get a little better at the job and maybe has moderate capability but fluctuating confidence. One minute you think you have mastered driving, then you drive up the wrong side of the dual carriageway by mistake. This is when as a leader you need to be SUPPORTIVE. Take them out for a cup of coffee. A beer. A cake (cf my previous advice on this very important technique).

Eventually, things improve all round, and your team member is both confident and competent in that particular task. Every organisation has some of these people – people who are actually very good at what they do, and very confident with it. In armies, they may be the Sergeant Majors who have to initially carry the new officers. In Government, maybe the Permanent Private Secretaries. Either way, these people can be DELEGATED to. They are in stage four. You can merely say “chop me twenty onions” or “I need you to open the restaurant in Soho next month. Come and tell me when it’s done”.

The key thing is to realise that situational leadership is task-specific. One person will be in stage four for some tasks (maybe financial modelling) but stage one for others (maybe launching a marketing campaign). 

How do we become better leaders? Let’s work it out together. Here are my starters for ten.

The rise and performance to date of Cameron and Clegg has inspired me to start a conversation about leadership. I was good at it once. And would like to be again. I cannot promise the definitive guide to leadership, nor an entirely coherent set of arguments. But instead here is a stream of unstructured consciousness for you to digest and perhaps throw back at me:

1. The smallest communication of values can dramatically set a new tone. Speeches are still powerful at doing that. Now we are a few weeks beyond the election, I think I have enough distance from it to say that Brown’s parting speech was good. And that Cameron’s opening speech was good too. Just as Thatcher was remembered for her slightly scary Francis of Assisi speech, I hope Cameron will be remembered for his belief in marrying freedom and responsibility – a marriage that I advocated in my first MT musings.

2. I have some strengths as a leader. And many weaknesses. My strengths: vision, passion, energy, care about the individual. I hope I empower people to fulfil their potential. My weaknesses: the ‘puppy dog’ John Vincent can unexpectedly turn into ‘Rotweiler’ John Vincent and you might not exactly know why. I can over-delegate. I sometimes forget names (although never faces nor what makes you tick). And I can sometimes assume my team is psychic. Oops, these sound like pretty bad weaknesses. I had better work on them.

3. There are of course different types of leader. Here are two: i) the motivating, positive tone-setter. A Ronald Reagan. And ii) the do-it-yourself in-the-weeds workaholic, role-modeller- a Jimmy Carter.

4. Some leaders are good for different contexts. An economist last week at breakfast sold me on the idea of the hedgehog and the fox. A hedgehog, like Churchill, is good at one thing, and amazingly suited to one extreme circumstance. After years of failure (peace had been very boring for Churchill) war gave the big man his chance. When peace came again, the task of getting to grips with all that tedious post-war clean-up wasn’t really his bag, Then there’s the fox. Able to plough through detail and, as Cameron and Hague have been stressing, “able to quietly get on with the job of government”. Roosevelt was a fox. Having to steer a country through the aftermath of an economic collapse and patiently put all the little bits of the jigsaw together.

5. Leadership is not just about defining and sticking to one’s own style. You have to adapt to suit the people you are managing, rather than them adapting to you. (More on this tomorrow, when I’m going to talk about Situational Leadership.)

6. The officers’ mess is very valuable. All leaders need a place to drop their guard, talk to other leaders about their problems (a staff room if you like) and even arse about without losing respect.

7. Leaders need emotionally secure followers. Cameron and Clegg need party members, voters and the media who share the desire for the leaders to be successful, and don’t manipulate the situation for their own ends. I hope that the media doesn’t get bored of reporting that some very intelligent leaders with good integrity are working well together to knuckle down and diligently try to solve our problems. Because how does that sell papers?

8. Leadership is not just for ‘leaders’. It is incumbent on everybody in a country and company to be a leader: take responsibility; see opportunities; suggest solutions not just point out problems; talk about ‘we’ not ‘they’. I hope that we see a rising tide of everyday people doing great things every day.

9. Good, secure leaders are mirrors as much as beacons. They provide the context for the leader in all of us to shine. In political terms, I hope that the Cam-Clegg leadership allows the Cabinet to shine and flourish too. How great is it to see many like William Hague, who made a play for the big job himself, motivated to serve under Cameron.

10. So as not to be partisan, may I celebrate the integrity of Labour ‘leaders’ like John Reid and David Blunkett, who avoided the flailing-around that some of their fellow leaders failed to avoid. Because they said directly “we lost the election”, I respect them. The Milliband “we didn’t lose it, it’s that no-one won it” double-speak is surely the sort of leadership we must avoid.

That’s my starter for ten. Tell me. Help me. Hold me.

You can either tell someone that you are funny. Or you can make them laugh.

My friend Richard has taught me a phrase that I now use in almost every meeting about branding. Are you ready? “You can either tell someone you are funny. Or you can make them laugh”.

Get it? I chuckle every time I see a sign saying: “Come try our world famous lasagne”. Do we think it is really world famous? Would they have to tell us it was if it were? Does the host ever say: “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome on stage…the world famous Pope”?

Kings don’t earn respect by telling people to respect them. Brands don’t earn love by using adjectives. I passed some giant hoardings outside a luxury London hotel and each one had a different word across the top. One had “Sophisticated”. Another “Luxury”. Another “Exclusive”. “Prestigious”. It genuinely upset me (do I need to get over it?) that a place that should be unconsciously and implicitly these things thought that it could BE those things by telling people that they are those things. Still with me?
 
Chanel doesn’t say “come try our world famous glamorous and prestigious luxury clothing”. Please can we go back to a world where people and brands are intrinsically wonderful from the inside rather than advertised and adjectivised from the outside?

There are things we know in the playground that the system, the world of ‘business’, helps us forget. Like profit.

Most kids know that if they are going to sell sweets in the playground they need to sell them for more than they bought them. So why is it that when I spoke to a senior sales director at a business last week, he said that sales had been going really well – but that the Board had been upset because they had not been selling for a profit. That interfering Board, it appeared, was getting in the way of some very big contracts.

Why is it that so many businesses and sales people have no sense and visibility of profit? Bureaucratic structures? The ego attached to sales and volumes?

When I was at P&G, I attended a meeting of the sales directors. I was a young, annoying, graduate not yet schooled in the ways of ‘business’. Well, not in ‘big’ business, where common sense gives way to the institutional imperative. The Sales Directors agreed a promotional deal using up some of their unused budgets to provide a discount.

Because I was annoying, I worked out the finances of the deal and tentatively (well, maybe not tentatively – I can’t really remember) pointed out we would be making a loss on the promotion. The chief of all Sales Directors looked a little disconcerted; he looked around at the eyes on him from his fellow directors and, after a pause, said confidently: ‘Yes, but we are doing it to shore up the base’. At which point, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and nodded approvingly, acknowledging it was indeed to ‘shore up the base’. And even I nodded, convinced by the group’s conviction that we were quite rightly and properly shoring up the base.

It was only later that I realised I didn’t know what ‘shoring up the base’ actually meant. And only later still that I realised it didn’t mean anything at all.

Empty companies have no soul, no staff loyalty, and no sense of why they exist. They won’t last.

You may have heard of the phrase empty calories. Sugar is a good example. Up there on calorification (you have the album?) and kind of not really up there on nutrients.

This got me thinking about empty companies. Companies perhaps that focus on the share price, but aren’t really doing too much for society. An empty company has little loyalty or zeal from its people. Nor from its customers. Nor a sense of why it is improving life on this planet. It¹s where the Man has taken over and sucked any soul from it. Zombie businesses.

Often, from space, two competitors might look identical: same size, same industry, same customers. But when you look underneath the bonnet, or work in one, they are very different. In the good business, the employees talk about ‘we’ to describe the company, not ‘they’. They presume trust. They are proud to say who they work for. And they have a sense of mission that includes but goes beyond the share price.

An example:  Nando’s vs Burger King. Burger King (where I have had access to the inner workings of the company and Board) is in my view a zombie business. What is it really for? The company, at least from what I saw, had little care for its customers or people, has been owned by various corporations and consortia of PE firms, is pretty powerless to influence its franchisees (who by now are more keen on playing golf or flying around in their private jets than serving their customers or keeping their restaurants clean), and has in general run out of runway. Nando’s, on the other hand, is run by the owners, who still care hugely for their mission and people; there is a huge sense of ownership and empowerment in each restaurant, even though they are employing people from the same backgrounds as Burger King are, and there is a sense of humanity and spirit.

I think this is why I often get frustrated when I am in meetings with bankers as they analyse a business. If Burger King and Nando’s had the same key stats (revenue, P&L, balance sheet), most (not all) bankers would see no difference. That is like choosing a wife or husband based on key stats and ordering them on Amazon. And bankers and financiers tend to take the EBITDA line for granted and think that all the magic is done after that – with securitisation and balance sheet engineering. The key difference is where those businesses are HEADED. Nando’s, I suggest, has cash flows that are sustainable. As a result of a sustainable culture, vision and values.

Sometimes a similar thing can happen when the FD becomes the CEO. Every business needs a vision guy (or girl) and a process guy/girl. The process guy always thinks he can do it without the vision guy. And sometimes when the CEO leaves, the FD convinces the Board that he knows the finances inside out and is secretly glad he can cut the cost of all those stupid away days.

It¹s like when a Chancellor of the Exchequer (who wasn¹t ‘all that’ anyway) decides he is going to become Prime Minister. ‘Look, if you want all that fancy schmancy vision and ethos stuff, I’m not your man. But if you want someone who can stay up late and get bags under their eyes looking at the monthly accounts, that¹s me.’ Listening to the PM debates is like listening to an FDs debate. It¹s all about how to shuffle the finances. Where is the debate about how to CREATE wealth for the FDs to shuffle? Where is the debate about what matters beyond the share price?

So could it be that we are fast creating an empty country? I hear business people talking about ‘UK plc’ as if the most important thing is our economics, our share price. OF COURSE that is important. Of course we need to have a strong and credible currency. Just as any plc or private business needs strong finances. But the bigger question is: what are we here for? What is beneath the bonnet? Do we have spirit? Do we leave school with imagination and verve – not just an ability to add up enough to be an accounts clerk or use a till? Do we treat each other honestly, or default to lying and cheating ourselves and the system? Do we talk about ‘we’, not ‘they’? Do we trust ourselves and our citizens, or do we erect cameras on every street corner? Do we take responsibility or do we accept having chips implanted in our necks?

We want a full country. We also want a good share price, of course. But share price and fullness are not mutually exclusive. In fact, a sustainably high share price is only possible if we are also full of life, vitality, love, sex, wellness, and creativity.

To make up for my recent absence, I’m going to reveal to you The Secret of good meetings.

OK, OK, I’m back. After more than a month off blogging (well, I did do a rather controversial review of a book) it had better be good, I guess. My friend Jimmy used to draw a graph of time to write a thankyou letter to effort and impact of thankyou letter. If you’ve been to someone’s dinner party, it’s nice maybe to send a quick text on the way home. If it’s the next day, an email. If you have left it a few days, a nice letter with a biro. A week, and it has to be fountain pen. A week and a bit, fountain pen with an interesting colour ink (maybe aubergine) written on Smythson paper and perhaps a poem about the evening.

So here it is. The equivalent of the aubergine ink and the parchment. And I am going to reveal to you THE SECRET. Forget the power to create your own world through visualisation. Imagine you have climbed to the top of a Tibetan mountain monastery and there inside the temple is a scroll next to some smoking incense. Written on the scroll is the SECRET. The one tip you will carry with you. It is, in my words, the ABC of Successful Meetings.

How did I discover this? This week Henry and I have been told that we are probably in pole position to win a site at one of London’s best shopping venues. It follows a meeting with the landlord who owns the area, where we applied the ABC of successful meetings. And it is all down to Henry.

The morning started with me on the phone to Henry (he normally cycles but today he was in a local cab from his house in Hackney) and he interrupted, saying ‘Oh no, we have to turn round – I’ve forgotten the cake’. So we finished our call, and I didn’t speak or see him before we both pitched up, with Simon the Leon FD, at the landlord’s offices. There were two people from the landlord (one of the big, corporate-ish landlords) and as well as us three, we had Eric our property agent there too. Henry had been finalising our new cake range, made by Clare ‘Cup cakes’ (I am embarrassed to say we have always called her Clare Cup Cakes so I can’t tell you her surname) and had with him a big Chocolate Fantasy Cake. Chocolate, after my family and friends, is the most important thing (am I a girl, because I also like the smell of lavender? Though I like making love to my wife so it is six of one, half a dozen of the other). By happy coincidence, it was Eric’s birthday. Eric is very lean and has the sort of metabolism that allows him to eat constantly without having to offset it with an hour in Fitness First.
 
Now, Richard from the landlord also likes eating. So he, too, was very excited that there was a gateau to hand. In fact, Richard got into the whole thing. He found some candles (‘So what if the sprinklers go off and we all have to evacuate the building?’). I was starting to enjoy our little rebellion. And does it make me bad that I was quite hoping the sprinklers were going to go off? And once lit, we all sang happy birthday, and Eric blew out the candles (blowing sideways to avoid spitting on the icing) and we tucked in. Now I shouldn’t really be eating wheat (I can show you the medical evidence if you think I am just being trendy!) so any break to this rule had  to be worth it. And, Clare Cup Cakes, it was.
 
So by the time we got down to the business part, we were a merry band of brothers (sorry to Sheila who runs the property company for not inviting you). and could have spent another thirty minutes, had we had the time, playing musical statues and pinning the tail on the donkey. After that, the business bit went really well: we agreed that we would like to work together, and agreed a timeframe for making our final decisions.

So there it is. The ABC of Successful meetings: Always Bring Cake.
 
You think I’m being flippant? You feel that the climb to the top of the mountain has not been worth it? All I say to you is try it. Next time you have a big meeting – with your biggest customer, With your biggest investor or with your bank – bring cake. Then let me know if I am right.

In politics, just as in business, you should always talk about people as if they’re listening to you.

At breakfast this morning a radio pundit was saying how ridiculous it was that the newspapers are full of Brown¹s ‘bigot’ gaffe and that we should be focusing on the bigger issues. Yes, we should, of course, also be focusing on the bigger issues.

But the Brown incident is still very important and very illuminating. The small things matter. Clive Woodward demonstrated that ‘critical nonessentials’ such as turning up on time to team meetings have a bigger impact on overall approach and culture, while that guy with the weird hair showed us in The Tipping Point that little things make a big difference. And if you believe the hype, Gulianni stopped graffiti and all crime disappeared overnight in New York (Ok, so he and I are maybe exaggerating a little with that one).

In many businesses and organisations, one of the things that breaks teams and destroys cultures is talking behind people¹s backs. At Leon, we and the team that started with us at our first restaurant created a series of rules as to how we will work with each other. Paramount was the idea that ‘we talk about people as if they are listening’. This value enriches the soul and stops that nasty creep (I am referring to a concept not an individual you understand) of mistrust that can set in. I can remember living by this rule as a kid and growing up.

How wonderful it is to talk constructively and positively about people. Instead of ‘that woman was a bigot’ you might say ‘I understand that woman¹s fears and we need to do a better job of explaining why and how Eastern European labour is enriching us in many ways’. And if you disagree with someone, say it to their face. With openness and compassion. This value of talking about people as if they are listening will liberate you. No looking over your shoulder. No having to remember who is friends with whom. It is a value that has kept us strong at Leon. Mr B, come and do a few shifts with us. Bankside or Strand are probably the closest restaurants to your house.

And I don’t mean perform favours for your boss. What I mean is that sleep will help make you money.

When I was about 15 I went to bed completely unable to translate some language homework. In my sleep I translated the whole thing and woke up being able to write the English without any problem. There are many decisions that we make when in the land of Nod that we may not even know we have made.

Then there is that time just between consciousness and unconsciousness (do they call it Theta state?), when I believe some of the best and most insightful decisions can be made.

Recently I was lying in bed in the morning without having fully woken up, when I realised in a flash that we were making a big mistake and had to change the format of one of the stores we were in the process of building (we had decided to experiment with self-service counters). Although my Theta-insight meant we had to pay for the changes in cash and delays, it just had to be done. And Henry agreed.

Now it had also been my idea to build it that way in the first place. So what was the difference between my mindset when I made the original decision, and my mindset when I realised those plans were wrong? In the first instance, I made a rational decision. Based on spreadsheets and theoretical assumptions. When I made the decision to scrap the plans, I was under my duvet without a laptop (no, really) and hadn’t even made a conscious decision to think about it.

My friend Ed told me that people make decisions in one of three ways: rationally, emotionally or intuitively. Malcolm Gladwell explores this in ‘Blink’, but it’s interesting that he doesn’t (I don’t think) explain it quite that way. It would be easy to think that emotional and intuitive are similar, but they’re really quite different. When you are making an intuitive decision, you are actually free of any emotional distractions. I believe, having tried to understand how I make decisions, that the brain makes an intuitive decision and then immediately post-rationalises the decision in order to feel like it is really in control. To create a map of the world that keeps us sane.

Another friend (a partner at Bain called Richard) told me of an experiment where they gave someone a buzzer and said: ‘Here is a buzzer. Buzz it whenever you decide to. You have three minutes and you can choose to buzz it as many times as you like and whenever you choose’. When they tracked the electrical responses in the brain, they found that the intuitive part of the brain made the decision and then the rational part responded afterwards, to post-rationalise.

One of the reasons people become entrepreneurs, I think, is that they make intuitive decisions and then want to get on with making it happen. Hell for these people is having to spend many committee meetings presenting their ideas with PowerPoint presentations until everyone is convinced. That is like putting them in prison. But to make those intuitive decisions you need to be in a ‘good place’. Like bed for example. That seems to be a good place.

So when your husband or wife kicks you to get out of bed, just explain that you should not be stirred – you are in the middle of making your fortunes.

I hope my new CEO knows that being an entrepreneur is about the boring bits, as well as the fun bits.

I have appointed a new CEO on a business that I am trialling. Let’s call him Jesse. Because that’s his name, and I am less likely to get confused. Jesse is very keen to be an entrepreneur. And that’s lovely. Really, genuinely, brilliantly lovely. But I really hope Jesse knows that it is not like in the adverts.

It is not like in The Apprentice, where you get to drive round in a London cab talking into a BlackBerry on conference call mode being ‘aggressive’ just like SrAlan (‘Sralan will see you now’) seems to like. It is not about testosterone. Or oestrogen. Or any other bodily enzyme or fluid. It’s about constantly matching the big print with the small print and the long term with the short term. When people see entrepreneurs, they see them in every situation apart from at work. They see them at parties. Speaking at conferences. Maybe on Dragon’s Den. And they think this is what they do. The reality of course: the fun bits are earned by doing the boring bits. The exuberance is earned by the temperance. And the spunking of cash earned by the hard, fearful preservation of cash.

Here are two characters. Ernie the Entrepreneur and Edna the Entrepreneur.

Ernie always stays positive. It’s all about belief. The smell of the one deal or business that will make everything possible. He gets knocked down, and he gets up again. Ernie listens to Anthony Robbins’ motivational tapes in his car. He knows he has entrepreneurial spirit. When a deal comes along, he knows that fortune favours the brave. Ernie doesn’t like to micro-manage people. He makes sure people are enthused by the vision, and then lets people get on with it. When it comes to reading the contract, he knows that he doesn’t need to read the small-print, because, hell, everyone gets on so well anyway, the contract will just go in a drawer and never be looked at again. Ernie is a big picture man. He’s an optimist. Who acts on intuition.

Edna… well, Edna is a bit of a pessimist. Edna assumes that revenues will not come through as planned, and that costs will run away with themselves a little. Edna assumes that all communication has gone completely wrong. That people have completely misunderstood what is expected of them, and that unless chased they will not deliver on time. She checks and double-checks the small-print. She assumes that someone has deliberately put something in the contract to screw her and that she must find what it is. Edna does not trust her intuition. Decisions must be thought through rationally and logically.

Who is the better entrepreneur? You tell me. You’re not able to wait for them to meet and have a love-child, as you don’t have the luxury of time.  Perhaps they would make a good team. Perhaps all teams need a Blair and a Brown. Not just a Brown.

If I had to pick just one? Well, I’d pick Edna. But if I had a choice, I’d take the double act. Morecombe and Wise. Chas and Dave. Starsky and Hutch. Cagney and Lacey. If that is OK with you.

Jesse, you are a wonderful man. You are by nature a wonderful Ernie character. We don’t have the money for an Edna right now. So in the mean time, you are going to have to find some Edna deep inside you.

Why being an entrepreneur is a bit like being a doubles tennis player (apart from the shorts).

I collected our daughter Natasha from her friend Immy’s house last week. Immy’s mum Hayley answered the door. Hayley was in her tennis gear. We got chatting about the sport. It is, she explained, the ‘total game’ – requiring pyschological balance and nerve, athleticism, technical excellence, instinct, strategy, preparation, and in the case of doubles, communication. Plus a nice clean pair of shorts.

Ah, can you see where this is going…? I’m about to suggest that Hayley’s ‘total game’ idea made me think about being an entrepreneur. Today, with my Leon (sun)hat on, I did my best to handle some delicate issues with our shareholders agreement that required conversations with lawyers, accountants and my fellow shareholders; spent time at a photo-shoot for our second cookbook, which included helping make an Italian flag out of tomatoes, peas and spaghetti; wrote a document sharing my thoughts on how we might grow Leon best across the next two years; looked in at our Carnaby Street restaurant; replied to an email from a UCLA professor in LA saying they would love Leon to be there; and most importantly, answered a complaint from someone who was upset with the amount of chicken in her soup.

In other words, I spent my day managing ‘stakeholders’, as they say in posh books. In more stressful moments, one certainly thinks they are all surrounding you holding… well, stakes.

To add to the breadth of things I chose to do today, with my investor hat I gave my views on a business we are looking to buy in South Africa (is the turnaround plan too ambitious?), and spent time working out how we could get hold of a drinks distribution business we would love to own (does the vendor have sensible price expectations?). I tried to work out why a big piece of our web site has just, well, disappeared. And I faced a very big decision about whether my filing in my office should be box files or lever-arch files (any thoughts anyone?).

What’s more, no-one decided for me what I spent my time on, so I had the constant unanswered question about whether I really did spend my time doing the right things. Freedom brings responsibility. And a tendency to existential doubt.

Now, I am lucky. In Leon, I am playing doubles (hooray, back to the meat of the metaphor). So if I am having a bad day, Henry the CEO of Leon hopefully has a good one and gets a few good fast first serves in. If one is totally by one’s self, it can be a wee bit lonely. I think that we are meant to hunt in packs. Even the famous R. Branson has relied on people like Simon Draper, Will Whitehorn and his CEOs to do the actual work. Vodafone’s explosive growth was publicly headed by Chris Gent, but he relied on a team that included his COO Julian Horn-Smith and his CFO Ken Haydn. All working above the Indian take-away in Newbury.

Even as part of a partnership or team, it can all feel a bit draining, and people might find us sitting in the corner rocking slightly. Being an entrepreneur does not make you special, just like picking up a racquet doesn’t make you special or a good tennis player. But what you do have is a very clear scoreboard for how you are playing. And a good amount of control over the shots you need to play to get scoring. One has freedom, with accountability and responsibility. Which is what makes one feel alive, and truly wealthy. Maybe that’s why each game starts with Love. My goodness, this metaphor is beautiful.