Just do … something
When I was six years old, I had one of those life experiences that roles out in slow motion – the kind you never forget. I was wading in the surf on the North Shore. In hindsight, maybe we were out of our depth, but I was holding my dad’s hand, the water was up to my waist, and I could see my mom on the beach right ahead of us.
The next thing I knew, everything was spinning. I felt my hand tear out of my dad’s grip, and I was tumbling in the surf with no idea which way was up. What was likely a split second felt like an eternity and I remember thinking, I have to do something or I’m going to drown.
I knew if I kicked and hit nothing but water I was in big trouble, but it was the only thing I could think to do. While my dad frantically scrambled to wrap his hands around some part of me again, I said a prayer and kicked out my foot as hard as I could, blissfully connected with the hard sandy bottom, and popped back up into the sunny turquoise air as the wave dispersed itself along the beach.
Life is something like that, isn’t it?
We discover passion for our professional lives, build a platform and infrastructure to support it’s growth, and wade in the sunshine. At the same time, we’re creating a personal life populated with people we love, pursuits we cultivate, and responsibilities we cherish.
Until we’re taken out at the knees, tumbling, running low on air, and have no idea which way is up. Our people are there trying to grab hold of us, our systems keep chugging along, but it becomes clear we can’t keep spinning and hoping for rescue. We have to DO something.
I have Walked. This. Road.
- Watching lucrative opportunities pass us by because I was too insecure to take action.
- Clawing my way back from what I realized in hindsight was burnout, only to get firmly stuck all over again in the next chapter.
- Seeing the hurt and anger in my daughter’s eyes when I lashed out with angry yelling—not because of the shortcomings I accused her of, but because of my own.
- Watching my resentment and then the distance grow between me and my husband.
- Breaking down at the executive table because I didn’t care well enough for myself after a personal loss.
In disaster response, our default is to delay too long, spending precious moments denying the reality that something is shifting. We assess the situation, deliberating on the best next move. Too often we freeze rather simply beginning to move away from the impending disaster toward safety. Your odds of surviving in tact are best when you move at the first hint something is happening.
The best time to move was then, the next best time to move is now. It’s easier to course correct when you’re already moving away from the problem.
So decide on a move and put the wheels in motion. Getting started is the hardest part.