You see, part of what I expect of myself as CEO of Wisdom Works is to be the visionary: advancing new, healthier approaches to leadership for individuals, teams, and entire organizations. This expectation is integral to the personal model of leadership I’ve always held as my standard. Getting “beat to market” put that very leadership model up for review.

Our personal leadership models are the unique combination of what we require of ourselves, our attitudes, our hopes and fears, and ultimately how we measure success as leaders. When life and work are humming along, few of us give our underlying leadership model any notice. But when expectations fizzle and pop, we have the chance to peer inside and see what exactly our model was — and to learn how it sustained our resolve back when things were going smooth.

At Wisdom Works we employ many tools to help characterize and refine leadership models. WisdomScape®, for instance, articulates tenets that are fundamental to creating a vision, managing expectations, and responding to let-downs. If I’d been at my resourceful best, I would have realized that our principle of “Taking a Big Picture Approach to Complex Situations” could have helped me in this scenario. Well, I wasn’t exactly at my best — and so I remained deflated.

Later, when I stopped to think about it, I had to admit that while tools are helpful for characterizing and refining your model of leadership, that is just a part of the equation. In my case, as totally flat as I was feeling, I would need something more.

Sometimes the answers to our bigger questions as leaders require a shift in perspective. In the midst of my meltdown, I received this blog featuring Carl Sagan’s view of the Earth. To Sagan the Earth is no larger than a pale blue dot in a vast universe — a view inspired by this NASA Voyager 1 photograph which literally captures that very vantage point: the Earth from 4 billion miles away.

To some this perspective might seem overly humbling, but to leaders this is a call to action, the impetus to put aside frustration and recommit to our highest callings. For me, it was the long exhale I needed to re-inflate my resolve and recommit to my leadership model: I picked up the phone and called Gallup. We’ll see what sort of collaborative work we can do to make the most of our combined resources.

Photos by gemsling and NASA

In our work, what persistent myth exhausts us leaders the most? Recently an executive I’m coaching and I agreed that it’s this one: “Change will eventually come to an end.” Au contraire! Just like we can’t make the elevator speed up, change will not stop. Ever. In fact, most of us are leaders of — and participants in — change throughout multiple overlapping arenas of our lives. From work to home and at points in between, change is relentless.

Take our corneas, for instance. I was just reading about a successful surgery that returned sight to Mike May, who had been blind for 46 years. The first stage of his surgery was a transplant to replace his eyes’ non-functioning corneas. The limbal stem cells of the cornea are in constant renovation, which is important, because without this, the eye becomes “like a dirty windshield in a car without washer fluid.” This story reminded me that even as adults, many parts of our bodies are continually renewing.

Our skin is another living organ (our largest) which is always changing. Our molting may not be as dramatic as a snake sloughing off one whole layer at a time, but yesterday’s skin is not what you’re wearing today. The message? A refutation of these silly beliefs: “old dogs can’t learn new tricks,” “we’re getting older, not better,” or “I know what’s right for me — I don’t need to change.” Your body says phooey to that. You can’t help changing.

If we don’t find a way to embrace this continuous change, the effort to fight it (or even simply ride it out) exhausts us. Worse than that, we tend to project this silly notion of The End of Change onto our teams and organizations. We say things like: “We’ll call it success when these changes are finally done.” This contributes to their exhaustion, too.

So what can we do? First, we must shed the myth that change will someday end. Our bodies — skin, corneas, and our other renewing populations of cells — are a reminder that change is an inherent part of life. In truth, nothing happens without it: Life thrives on change. The trick is to align your belief with that experience. Be real with yourself.

Then you can ask, “What can I do to be calm, balanced, and resilient in the middle of change?” For a superb conversation with the teams you lead, change the “I” to “we” and ask the question again. Now that is a strategic question, providing energy and inspiration, instead of taking it away. That’s the kind of thinking that feels as fresh as new skin.

If, like me, you find yourself over-thinking the challenges of growth and learning that lie ahead, do like my grandchildren do. Go to the playground.

John and Emma wanted to watch the big boys skateboarding. After several minutes of watching, John made an announcement: “MawMaw, my favorite is the guy in the blue shirt.” When I asked him why, my grandson informed me: “Well, he’s cool. And he is really, really good.” I hadn’t realized that a five year old, one who has never set foot on a skateboard, could have such a discerning eye toward technique. Not having quite that same grasp of the sport myself, I asked how John thought the boy in blue had become so good. He was quick to reply: “Well, he practices of course.” It’s as if John had been eavesdropping on my recent coaching sessions with clients who are facing the need to learn new skills to serve their organizations. But for John there was more to it than just practice, as he told me with a note of finality: “And I like his long hair, too.”

Inspired to put their own skills to the test, the kids ran over to a new curvy climbing structure. It was actually quite complicated, requiring significant balance and coordination to maneuver to the top and back down. Emma, our little mountain goat/chimpanzee, took to it naturally after only one try (with just a little help from MawMaw). John, on the other hand, got half way up in his first two tries and became gripped with fear. “I’m going to fall,” he said.

I assured him I was right behind him and said I knew he could do it. I suggested taking a deep breath and noticing where his hands and feet were. On the fourth try John made it to the top without fear and without falling. Ever the proud grandmother, I gushed: “I’m so proud of you, John. Just look at what you did!” A huge grin spread across his face and he beamed, “I knew you’d say that, MawMaw. When you did, it made me smile inside.”

John didn’t have the older boy’s blue shirt or long hair, and he didn’t have his little sister’s natural talent at defying gravity, but he did discover a couple of tricks that helped him accomplish something new: practice — and a little bit of MawMaw’s encouragement. It’s hard to say which is more important, but when both are as close as the local playground, what’s stopping you?

Like Robert Fulghum, who learned everything he ever needed to know in kindergarten, we can learn from play. When we use grown-up terms like “organizational growth,” “professional development,” or “corporate diversification” all of a sudden learning sounds like a lot of work. But what John did on that curvy bar is not a far cry from the demands that face leaders at their desks every day. If a trip to the playground doesn’t work for you, then remember Fulghum’s words:

Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Live a balanced life – learn some and think some
and draw and paint and sing and dance and play
and work every day some.

And spend time with children. And make sure to tell your own MawMaws (or mamas or papas or kids or friends or colleagues) whenever they make you smile on the inside. One little remark like that from a five year old and I’m still smiling from ear to ear.

Photo by Jan Tik