Why Everybody Needs to Mingle

How sociable am I in group settings? I often wonder about this; I think many of us do. Socializing, mingling, and connecting with others can be both invigorating and challenging. It’s a dance, one where you’re constantly adjusting your energy, tone, and delivery. Too much of anything is too much; too little of something is not enough. Just right is just right. But how do you know when just right is just right?

For me, group settings require constant awareness. 

• Sometimes, I worry that I dial it up too loud. My volume is on "11" when perhaps "7" would be more appropriate. I see people’s faces shift; I’ve gone too far.
• Other times, I pepper people with too many questions. I’ve read studies suggesting that asking questions makes you more likable, and sometimes I get genuinely curious about somebody’s story. Then I see my audience start to shuffle nervously with the next question; I’ve gone too far.

When that happens, I think, “please forgive me. Let’s move on.” And I change my frame. This is an Oren Klaff concept when having conversations, and I love it. A frame is essentially the mental perspective or emotional energy you bring to an interaction. Adopting different frames helps you tailor your approach to fit the person or situation in front of you, making your communication both effective and engaging. Frames serve as tools to guide conversations, ensuring you’re neither too passive nor too overbearing. They allow you to stay present, adaptable, and in sync with the flow of dialogue. Here are three good frames: excitable, inquisitive, and narrative (my favorite). 

Socializing comes with its own set of vulnerabilities, moments where you’re unsure of how you’re being perceived. Here’s the thing: I love to mingle. I love to smile, ask friendly questions, and connect with others. I also love to read a book alone in my living room. It’s a strange paradox, loving connection but also feeling most comfortable in solitude. So, I often ask myself: How can I transfer that homebody energy into feeling comfortable around people? With HUMOR and CONNECTION.

Comedic public speaking, where you’re trying to make people laugh while also being authentic, is an art form. It’s an act, but it has to feel real.

I once heard someone say you could go on stage with a monkey, grunt, and imitate it, and people would laugh. People would find you hilarious. But you don’t want to be monkey-funny. You want to have an air of respect and authority after your conversation. So, the humor needs to be respectful, narrative humor, not monkey-act humor. 

Humor, when done right, creates trust; it opens people up to listen to what you have to say. It can refresh a conversation or bring a lull back to life. 

Social settings aren’t one-size-fits-all. I’ve learned that different people require different approaches. I remember a recent visit to the dentist’s office. The dental hygienist, a fun-loving woman with three boys, was easy to talk to. She had a friendly energy that made me feel comfortable joking and being a bit more playful in my conversation. Then, there was the dentist’s assistant, a young woman in her 20s who was serious and professional. With her, I dialed it back; I kept the conversation factual and light, with just a little humor. Finally, with the dentist himself, I adopted a more professional tone. We shared stories: me about two difficult clients, him about challenging patients. Each interaction was unique, and I felt like I connected with all three.

But this required focus. You have to be alert, engaged, and willing to adjust your tone and approach based on the person in front of you. It’s not easy. An annoyed or distracted version of me doesn’t have that ability. It takes effort to stay present, to notice the small cues, and to switch frames when necessary.

In individual and small group settings, I’ve found that the best conversations happen when there’s a balance, when we’re jamming on each other’s questions, sharing stories, and laughing at just the right moments. I listen when others speak, I ask thoughtful questions, and then I switch seamlessly into sharing my own stories. It’s a rhythm: police detective inquisitor when I’m asking questions; storyteller when I’m sharing. Humor ties it all together.

When I feel I’m grilling someone with too many questions, I step back and reframe. Instead of asking another question, I might share a story, something humorous, relatable, or insightful. This shift creates a more natural flow, allowing the other person to relax and reengage. Thoughts such as: what adventures I have gone on, what I have been thinking about, what new project I am working on, and so on.

The ability to mingle, to connect, to adapt to different people and situations is one of the most important skills anyone can develop. It’s not just about networking or building relationships; it’s about being human. It’s about showing up, being present, and finding ways to connect with others in meaningful ways.

As Michael Smerconish said: “It’s time to mingle. This is the most important issue of our time.” I think he’s right. And I’m always striving to put this into practice. I want to step into more vibrant, lively conversations. I want to mingle, to loosen others up, and to find those moments of connection that make life richer. And I’ll keep trying to mingle.