Nina Mehta

For a city with a serious dedication to extended youth, the cohabitation with adults and actual children in Berlin is remarkable. My perspective here is often compared to life in the States and citylife in general. Both together are hard places for children to live.

Simple things like sidewalks, restaurant, cafes, and parks play nicely with parents and singles alike. In San Francisco and Chicago there were family places and regular places. The deeper into the city, the more I felt people making a stink eye to someone who brought their youngin along.

During one of my first weekends here I went for a long brunch with some local friends. Their son 9-year old son was climbing on the sofa and playing with the adults in the group. Sometimes wanted attention but never crying, screaming, or yanking on his father’s coat for entertainment.

I don’t see kids demanding for attention in public places or crying in the supermarket. Maybe parents raise their children differently in Berlin. That must make it easier to bring them along to whatever the parents have going on. And the parents I’m meeting somehow seem to have time for themselves. Do Europeans have an extra few hours in the day? Why are Americans always so tight on time?

However last night I saw some kids also around 9 or 10 years old with their parents in a smoke-free Belgian beer bar. I think they drew the doodles on the wall behind the cash register (above). That was surprising and unexpected. Americans are somewhat conservative about alcohol so having kids in the bar was a strange for me. But maybe there’s some other context I don’t have yet. I’m curious about German parenting.

Ok also, kids have these awesome Fred Flinstone bikes to help them learn the hardest part of riding a bike first: balance. It’s not that related to this post but it’s so fantastic and you need to know about it.

A photo posted by Nina Mehta (@ninamehta) on Mar 25, 2016 at 6:17am PDT

Bauhaus design school teacher Johannes Itten said:

“The way we breath is the way we think.”

He believed breathing quietly, slowly, and deeply is the foundation of creative energy. In fact in his classroom, courses began with simple breathing and physical exercises to help students find a rhythm, the foundation of their creative energy.

In plain english, designers need to be deeply connected to themselves before they can create anything meaningful for someone else. It makes sense that they started by looking inward.

The early 20th century Bauhaus art school and design movement is so hard to describe because it doesn’t have a specific look or style, but only unified philosophies. And though it was born of the industrial revolution in Germany, Bauhaus designers celebrated designing well made products to last forever. The impact on the future was much more relevant than profit margins. So of course, designers had to be intimately in touch with themselves and nature to create from this perspective.

But nearly 100 years later and slow, deep, quiet, inward looking practice is even more relevant for designers because:

Software products are deeply connected to the consumer’s psychological experience

The creators of technology can have a scary amount of impact on the intimacy of someone’s life. How people eat, sleep, live, date, work, and so on is directly related to technology. Ten years ago laying in bed with a computer would sound wildly robotic. And now many find it harder to quit their cellphones than cigarettes. To deeply connect with the physiological and psychological experience of our customers, we first must be connected to ourselves. We start by looking inward and taking the impact of our work seriously.

Designers have never been asked to or been able to mass produce at such a fast rate

Before software, product designers would sketch and prototype with wood, steel, plastic, fabrics and other physical materials. Eventually their work would be produced in a factory and then ship to stores for display and sales.  This is why we had a waterfall process for so long.The time from ideation to manifestation took months if not years.

Intangible, non-physical, software design made it possible for agile development and lean design processes. We learn as we go and make changes inspired by what we learn. We can move faster than ever before, but that’s getting mistaken for better. When we move too fast, we end up too closely connected to the “scurrying rat-race of everyday life” and further from a deep, quiet, inward looking process.

Slow Lean Design

Many celebrate lean and agile because it’s so much faster than waterfall. But our challenge ahead is a lean and agile process where designers can think deeply about their work without shipping the first idea that’s good enough. In the beginning of a lean process, we want to validate ideas and ship as fast as possible to learn quickly. But product teams need to create time for the right expression of a validated idea. For example: now we’ve validated people want to taxis on demand, let’s make time to create the best way to order a taxi on demand. That second half is the expression of the idea.

Some parts of that expression will come from user research and quantitative data. But there is no objective design. No mater how user centered, the work a designer creates will in some part be an expression of who they are.

Author Jeff Sussna wrote about mindfulness and design. In summary, he challenges designers to think beyond improving a product but to create products or services free of distractions so customers can be completely focused on their task at hand. He has an excellent example about laundry services. e.g. I don’t necessarily need laundry to go away or to be faster. I may need a way to make laundry a preferred activity.

Slow Berlin 

Let’s bringing this back to my Berlin experience. My work weeks move really fast. Too fast. I used this long weekend to stay in the city and find some stillness. I visited the Bauhaus Archiv and thought a lot about their teaching process. They start from perfecting their craft rather than production. Students in the beginning simply play and explore materials. I thought about this while walking in the rain through Tiergarten and the next day went on an artist date to the Modulor art store. I touched all the felt, plastic, metals, papers and markers. I’d tell you more about it but I need to go play with my new paint brushes and chalk.

Have a deep breath!

If you also believe design and software have a relationship to nature, you might like my minimalist technology posters.

Going to shows, concerts, and gigs in Berlin are so wonderful because of the polite and considerate audiences. I find these kinds of things relaxing because I am charged by the energy of people. I find it restful to be in an immersive sensory experience: music, dance, good food, delicious drinks.

In Berlin, more than other places it’s easy to go out for music and not need to talk. People focus on the music and enjoy the togetherness without conversation overtaking the primary experience. In fact, it even affects the sound: in American clubs and concert halls there’s a layer of chatter on top of the music. The sound guys have to tune it louder and even for other reasons it becomes more intense.

Even this week I went to a night event where Max Richter’s 8-hour composition was intended to be heard while sleeping. A few hundred people gathered in a powerplant and slept on individual cots while listening to the music. I loved sharing the experience with so many people without having to be directly and explicitly engaged. When we talk about being extroverted and being charged by people, it doesn’t necessarily mean talking.

I got the sick this week. It rained, hailed, snowed, and I accidentally left one of my windows open overnight because I don’t understand German windows.

Well, now I do.

After some coughing and sneezing, I went home for a long sleep and picked up the next day back on track. In the past I would have completed some tasks from bed extending my cold. There’s something in the air here keeping me from my natural tendency to overwork. It doesn’t make much logical sense because I have more responsibilities and more free time. I’m leading the design practice in Berlin which means:

1. doing design work on a project
2. managing designers who report to me
3. checking in with visiting Pivotal designers
4. checking in with client and contract designers
5. leading or delegating design talks, workshops, and critiques in the office and in the community
6. recruiting designers (getting to know the design scene)
7. hiring designers
8. staying connected with the Europe offices

In San Francisco I was only doing #1 and #2. Before, I really thought doing all of these activities meant giving up some part of my personal life. I’m learning so much becoming the professional I’ve wanted to be for a long time. For that I’m thrilled.

It’s hard though, also learning German, make friends, go on some dates, eating well, sleeping well, and having some time to just laze around on the couch. And there are days when I want to ask to the sky “does this all really fit? this doesn’t all fit! how is this an example of everything fitting?”

A photo posted by Nina Mehta (@ninamehta) on Feb 21, 2016 at 5:35am PST

That’s usually a signal to go enjoy some music or art and let my mind wander. After that I realize I can cancel some meetings, archive some emails, and remind my project team I haven’t deprioritized the design work. I can’t tell is if this shift came from the natural cycle of career growth or something special in European culture. I dunno man. I’m working hard, having fun, and taking naps on the couch. Sounds good to me!

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I hate talking about money, especially my money. Last night the tech class topic came up and it has a lot this week since I just moved into a nice new flat. My friend thought I should write about it. So, here we go:

I want to share this new apartment with friends but I feel embarrassed by this display of wealth that doesn’t represent me. Or maybe it does and I’m in denial. It seems to disregards the Berlin ethos of taking only what you need and doing more with less. It’s hard to even write about this because it sounds like my problem is having too many nice things: what a horrible thing to complain about. Stay with me and please give me direct feedback if this post comes across sour.

It was so frustrating to be a Silicon Valley person in San Francisco because it seems like having a tech job means you can live comfortably. But even with rent control and mindful budgeting, saving money is hard work. It’s so ridiculous. I can see my tech presence in Berlin creates more jobs which is great. But not more jobs for the artists who built this city into the creative, vibrant, experimental place it is. Maybe it indirectly creates more demand for services and luxury goods but that again is outside of the Berlin ethos as I understand it. In both cases, friends insist gentrification is part of the urban cycle and it’s not my fault or guilt to carry. But Nina in Berlin is a problem if I only take from the city instead of participating in the local and creative economy.

When people see my apartment, I keep wanting to include an asterisk about how hard I’ve been hustling the last fifteen years. I worked at the student newspaper until midnight throughout college and started my passion career in journalism during the recession. After the inevitable layoff (sorry Dad, you were right) I worked three different jobs with a day off once a month to make ends meet. I grudgingly lived in cheap Indiana for nearly a decade and worked intense hours to pay my way graduate school. I did this to create a future where I could continue doing work I love. However, unlike journalism, my new industry came with a good salary and job security.

I want to enjoy my successes, not apologize for them. My company helped with German legal documents, banks, taxes, cultural training, and a nice flat so I can focus my energy on the job that needs done. The German systems can be complex, irrational, and are rarely in English. So, I’m wildly impressed by my artist, freelancer, and food friends who figured this out on their own.  The job to be done is not easy work, either. But who’s job is?

In casual conversations about my move, I want to go on a diatribe about how long and hard I’ve been working to get here. But why bother? Everyone’s hustling for something. So I hold my tongue, say thank you, and acknowledge the privilege I have.

Conversely, I’m finally out of a hotel and have a home. So if you want to come over for a glass of wine and listen to some nice tunes, I’d love to have you.

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I started meditating again. The weeks are going by so fast and the work is challenging. I’m being pushed to practice balancing priorities, managing expectations, asking for help when I need it, direct communication, and in the end still executing good designs. All things I want and need to practice so for that I’m grateful and hungry for these challenges.

But it’s difficult for me to calm down after the work day.  My mind runs all week until I can shake it out at a club. Usually I would do something comfortable and quiet but I’m sleeping in a hotel for another week and am still living mostly out of one backpack. I miss my art supplies and yoga mat!

So I’m dancing which I find to be one of the best meditations. It’s a fairly sober activity for me and I don’t mind going alone if the goal is to hear music. However, staying up until sunrise is not a sustainable (or reliable!) way to relax. So I started sitting down quietly with my breath. Since then I’ve realized how often I’m setting a wrong expectation about how a place, person, or event will be.

Bunny Lunch

Last week a friend and I sat by the Spree for a lunchtime meditation. Halfway through the meal he told me I was eating noodles and “bunny” meat, which usually would have turned me off. I really don’t think I would order rabbit from a casual lunch menu, no not at all. But in this calm state of acceptance I was able to enjoy it. And for the first time properly realize I how little context I have about my own experience here. How many other times did I have bunny for lunch?!

Kegel not Kegels

The next day a friend invited me to join his friends for drinks after work. I assumed we were going to a bar until I found myself in the basement of an old apothecary bowling (kegel) under neon lights. That’s when I really started to pay attention to how different anything can be compared to what’s in my mind.

A photo posted by Nina Mehta (@ninamehta) on Feb 12, 2016 at 10:17am PST

Kater

So I started saying yes to trusted invitations without questions. Because even when I think I know, I don’t. This has been a good thing because on Saturday I ended up at the Berlinale film festival watching an intense movie about two gay lovers and a dead cat. I’m glad I said yes.

Watergate

And finally, I got to turn the tables. I really wanted to listen to Patrice Bäumel DJ this weekend. Unfortunately he was playing at Watergate which is a beautiful club but is known for a horrible, drunk, rowdy, touristy atmosphere among my friends. I love Patrice’s music, I actually love it, so I decided to go regardless of my friends’ plans. Late into the night some friends who always get into Berghain didn’t get into Berghain and decided to join me. For some unknown reason Watergate wasn’t horrible last night and we had a surprisingly, wonderful, joyful, meditative time.

It was a timely reminder that keeping expectations in check has little to do with being new to a city. We could  be eating bunny at any moment.

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