For many years, I operated under the illusion that I could make good decisions on the fly and was simultaneously frustrated that I wasn’t getting the results I was looking for. I never realized the two were connected.
Cue the virtual 2×4 across my forehead.
It easily ranks as one of my top 5 self truths. Let’s break this down.
First, we have to acknowledge that we don’t often make rational, logical decisions. Instead, our decisions are heavily (even primarily) influenced by the design of the question itself.
Disagree?
Here are some examples . . .
Last November, I stumbled upon an interesting analogy for life strategy – bumper bowling. I know what you’re thinking. It seems completely random and sort of ridiculous. Think about it this way . . .
When you get to the bowling alley, you can bowl “normally” or you can acknowledge your weaknesses and bowl with guardrails.
It’s likely to bruise your ego a bit, but I’ll bet your scorecard will improve. While you may not hit a strike every time, you’ll certainly be racking up points with every attempt.
I’ve learned that we can choose to live life that way too. And it’s pretty much the same trade: eat some humble pie and get significantly better results.
But there’s one really big key . . .
More than anything, I am reminded about how easy it is to live in default mode.
For me, that mode is primarily reactive, but easily justified to friends and family. It can sound like I’m still making good decisions, but there’s a fallacy there. It typically doesn’t represent conscious choices. Instead, it’s an agreement to stay with the herd and follow the rules. It’s almost completely fueled by fear of some sort.
The scariest part is that it was so hard for me to recognize that I was living this way.
Two weeks ago, it hit me. The feeling had been brewing for months or even years, but April 12 was different. It was as if I woke up with a new pair of glasses and could see clearly for the first time.
I started a journey, without knowing how it would end. I made some progress, and then I stumbled. I failed at my first attempt and had 500+ miles of driving to reflect. I’m proud to say that I won the mental battle this time. And I think I’m stronger for it.
I completed the one thing that I hadn’t been able to do for myself, despite years of positive intent and hundreds of hours of thought and effort.
I had to ask, “What made the difference this time?”
Two things . . .
I’ve been restarting myself a lot lately.
First came the pruning last summer. Then the grind of winter, and a decision to start again in mid-January. Then a declaration of my personal new year on March 1 after a horrendous February. And finally a realization last week that I’d been living scared.
My writings here are a clear reflection of how my life is going.
Essentially, I’d work furiously for a while (usually two weeks to a month) and then burn out for an equal period of time. I decided that wasn’t healthy and spent the last six weeks figuring out an alternative. In seeking another option, I reviewed my annual plan, my book notes, my time logs, and my binder of inspirational articles.
The answer was in front of me all along.
Earlier this year, I decided to read books differently. Instead of just plowing through them, I would pause and recap what I learned from each and how I could apply the lessons to my own life.
Simply put, that’s tougher than it sounds. I thought I could do a book a week, but I think half of that is a more realistic goal. (And I’m already a few behind of that pace, but I think I can catch up with some books already in progress.)
In January, I read Ikigai by Sebastian Marshall.
Last month, I finished Start With Why by Simon Sinek.
If my house ever gets robbed, I’m betting the burglars will be sorely disappointed – unless they were librarians in a past life. It’s pretty much full of books and not much else. I love to read. (My Mom, Dad, and Nana are the same way, so perhaps it’s genetic.)
Recently, I realized that I wasn’t getting as much out of my books as I could be. I would complete one and move on to the next, without always taking the time to digest the primary lesson or apply the principles.
Going forward, I decided that I would trade quantity for quality.
Falling down sucks, particularly if you’ve climbed a little higher since the last time you fell down. It hurts more. The bruises and scrapes are little deeper.
Then the mental games begin. And they’re far worse than the physical ones.
It feels like being stuck in mud as far as you can see. It takes all your strength to simply stand up, and then there’s no clear path out. It’s frustrating and exhausting.
What to do?
Sometimes the greatest obstacle to moving forward is looking backwards. We cling to the memories of our good ‘ol days, linking our identity to a past success.
Maybe it was winning an athletic championship in high school or college, or maybe even a single incredible play. Maybe it was a position with inside access to movers and shakers. Maybe it was a work project that mirrored the case studies you read in college. Maybe it was earning more than you’d ever dreamed of for a period of time.
We often talk of learning from our failures and putting them behind us. The same is true of our successes.
Here are three ways success can be a trap, and how to escape them.
If we were running a 5K or marathon, we wouldn’t dream of stopping just inches before the finish line. We know that the rewards come with finishing, and there’s not much else that tops that surge of confidence and pride in ourselves.
So why don’t we carry that philosophy into our work? I’m guilty of it too.
When the finish line approaches on a consulting contract, we start to brainstorm ways to extend it, often sabotaging ourself or our colleagues.
Or, if we’re an employee, we cling to projects for the job security they seemingly provide. We’re not willing to automate them, cutting the needed hours in half. Or to create a checklist and train a more junior person to complete them.
Why?
Count me as a member of Team Tebow. I’m a fan, and I’ve certainly enjoyed the last few weeks of improbable victories.
He’s certainly made football more exciting and provided an excellent role model for living out the Christian faith. But there’s more we can learn from his example. And I think the lessons translate to more than the football field.
Here’s what Tim Tebow can teach us about business.
