By now, most of us have read something about emotional intelligence or social intelligence and get the concept that having a high IQ is no guarantee that you can communicate or will do well in life. Even members of Mensa, people in the top percentile of IQ rankings, are not guaranteed to be good communicators. Throughout the years I have had the extreme pleasure of meeting some amazingly brilliant people — brilliant on their area of expertise but at the bottom of the class when it comes to effective exchanges. On the other hand, some of those intellectuals are great when it comes to connecting with the masses. For example, Scott Adams, the creator of Dilbert, is a member of Mensa and he has also said he has dyslexia. I find him extraordinarily good at connecting.

That said, the sages among us, those who are great at articulating thoughts, moving us with their words, or exceptional at spinning a tale, are not necessarily cerebral giants.

One of the most compelling communicators I know is my hairdresser. As cliché as that might sound, she is a wise woman who can hand out advice or listen with the skill of a learned scholar. I expect she fits the 10,000 hours theory that Malcolm Gladwell offers in his book, Outliers. His concept is that you excel at a talent after 10,000 hours of practice. By my calculation, that would net out at 10 years of experience in a typical 9 to 5 job. For people who have worked overtime or their work spills over into their everyday life, it can be much faster. When I think of my sage stylist starting out at the age of 17 and with a life of challenges and communication hurdles, it starts to make sense how she became so knowledgeable and such a talented connector. I marvel at her ability to listen to people of all ages and how perceptively she responds and helps them with astute advice. I overheard her tell a young woman who was lamenting about a friendship gone sour, to just let the friend drift away slowly. The young woman wanted to confront the issues, which were never going to change based on the pattern presented, and the end result would have just been bad feelings all around. The visible relief in the young woman’s eyes said the advice was correct and welcome. It was communicated with such ease and with such confidence you could hardly imagine questioning the wisdom in it. I hear her do this all the time, and I have personally been the recipient. She has a wonderful way of asking, “Why?” She makes you think and before you know it, you have concluded something you knew in your heart all along. Even if you do not know the answer, this woman can give Yoda-like advice that makes it all sound so uncomplicated and achievable.

Good communication is learned. We all make mistakes. I can recollect telling one of my little pals in grade school she was “sour.” Not a nice thing to say and it lost me a friendship. In my mind I was just being honest, as she tended to be a bit dour. Lesson learned: don’t be so darn honest and if you are going to critique someone, really think it about it twice and you probably won’t do it. Critiquing well is an art and must come from a good place. I know more people who are emotionally damaged because of poorly thought out and insensitive critiques.

Learning can come from great books, articles, classrooms and (ahem) blogs but some of my best lessons come from my own mistakes and observing people who are really good. They come at us from all walks of life. I have learned from people online, in grocery store line-ups, on beaches, at sporting events, in movies and a myriad of other places. Always having on the observer lens so you can take away a nugget of something to analyze or explore makes life way more interesting.

What have you learned in usual and unusual circumstances or through a sage in your life? I am eager to know.

Next week, my final blog in this year-long series of posts, aptly named The Closer.