A Pattern I Couldn’t Ignore

What surfaced once the same stories kept showing up

After I left Freshworks and began advising startups, I noticed something uncomfortable. As I met with more founders and operators, I kept hearing myself tell the same stories. Not verbatim. But close enough that a pattern emerged.  A hiring debate. A leadership stall. A moment of strategic fog. And out would come a familiar story — almost on autopilot — because it framed the problem faster than any fresh explanation could.

At first, I worried that meant I was running out of new ideas. In a world that rewards novelty, familiar stories can feel like you’re leaning on the past instead of articulating something original. You are stagnating. You aren’t producing something original. 

But over time, something became obvious.

The more conversations I had, the more I realized the stories that kept coming back were the ones that consistently helped create understanding efficiently. They didn’t just answer the question; they gave people a way to see the problem differently. It gave a mental model people could reuse. They reduced ambiguity. They helped decisions land.

So I stopped asking “Have I said this before?”
And started asking “Does this still do the job?”

What surfaced once the same stories kept showing up

The Stories That Survive

Over a career, you collect hundreds of stories. Only a few earn the right to stick.

These are the ones stories that reduce friction, lower cognitive load, compress complexity. The ones you reach for because they get people to clarity without a whiteboard, a deck, or a 30-minute detour.

A handful of mine have become structural — stories I use to introduce a principle, frame a decision, or help someone see the underlying pattern in what they’re facing. If you’ve read The Narrative Intel for a while, or spent any time talking with me, you’ve probably heard some version of these.

  • “Freshworks Hiring Filter“ — why adaptability beats pedigree when the ground keeps shifting

  • “Waiting on Hold With a Call Center” — how uncertainty, not inconvenience, is what truly breaks trust 

  • “The Five-Year Unpredictability Story” — why optionality matters more than long-range certainty 

  • “The Racquetball Lesson” — why intention and positioning outperform speed and effort.

  • “He’s in Charge and I’m Okay With That” — a simple illustration of trust, role clarity, and partnership without ego.

  • “The First CAB Meeting” — the realization that customers don’t just want a roadmap; they want proof you’ll keep earning relevance

  • “Compliment Infrastructure” — how small, specific recognition can anchor alignment and lighten the emotional load teams carry.

I never sat down to curate a set of stories. They  earned their place by working — over and over again.

Why Repetition Feels Uncomfortable (to you)

From your own vantage point, the stories can start to feel stale. You know every beat. You know the punchline. It’s easy to slip into the assumption that because you’ve lived with a story for years, everyone else must be just as familiar with it.

But your audience isn’t living inside your head.

They’re dealing with their own noise and uncertainty. I wrote in Cognitive Load Is Real, most people are already overloaded. Repetition doesn’t weigh them down — it steadies them.

In that context, repetition isn’t redundancy. It’s stabilizing. It gives a team, a founder, or a customer something solid to hold onto while they’re making sense of whatever they’re facing.

And the story changes each time it’s heard. Early on, people catch the headline. Later, different details resonate because they’re facing new challenges. Meaning  shows up in layers. A familiar story becomes a place they return to each time they’re ready for more.

Berkson’s Bits…

Find like-minded people and build stuff.

For most of my career, I thought networking meant finding people a few steps ahead of you — mentors, sponsors, future opportunities. 

Recently, I was offered  a different frame for early stage careers.

I call it "finding your cohort".

A friend with decades of experience on the creative side of the entertainment business gave this advice to my recent college grad daughters: don’t chase gatekeepers. Find people like you and start making things together. If one of  you breaks through, it often creates a path for the rest.

While this advice targeted artists, it applies to so many people getting started today. 

Careers don’t unfold the way they did forty years ago. Few people stay with one employer for decades. At the same time, it’s never been easier to create - to build skills, signal value, and compound momentum outside formal roles. The market doesn’t just reward creativity. It rewards action.

Find like-minded people and build stuff. And when one of you breaks through, pull others along.

What I’m Watching…

This one goes back to the 70's. I can't stop replaying this: Al Jarreau giving us a funk-heavy recipe for Sweet Potato Pie.

The more I paid attention, the more obvious it became that the stories I kept returning to weren’t placeholders — they were the clearest distillation of what I’d learned. They carried insight without excess. They cut through ambiguity. They allowed people to absorb complex ideas quickly, without needing a long preamble or a whiteboard session.

That’s when it clicked.

A good story doesn’t wear out.

It sharpens. 

That’s why you don’t tire of telling it. There’s often a quiet recognition before you begin — not because the story flatters you, but because you already know it will land. It’s the right tool for the moment, doing exactly the work you need it to do.

You don’t repeat the stories you’ve outgrown. You repeat the ones that continue to earn their place — the ones that make things clearer, faster, for the people you’re trying to help.

Those are the stories worth telling again.

Looking forward to continuing the conversation…
Alan

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