This isn’t really about Memorial Day. It’s being written on Memorial Day. I guess it kind of makes a connection to one aspect of Memorial Day though. I’ve been thinking about the idea that one person really can make a difference. I’ve been thinking about how the leadership of one person matters – or can if that one person recognizes that it matters. This is something that I’ve come to realize only really quite recently.
I’ve found myself, recently, thinking of myself like George Bailey. Specifically, George Bailey in the middle of the movie when he discovers that Bedford Falls is Pottersville and Mr. Gower actually gave the kid poison…
Why? Well, almost three years ago, I made a decision about my life, my career and my future which not only turned out badly for me, but left a large number of people who trusted me, relied on me and respected me in a lurch. Is it my fault that their situation got more miserable after I left? No. But I just can’t help but think that if I’d stayed where I was, all of our situations today would be much happier.
I have more than one Clarence the Guardian Angel in my life. Unfortunately, I’ve not been very good at listening to them in the past. Most, if not all, of them are a whole lot smarter than I am. I should listen more.
When one looks at one’s decisions in life and starts toting up the pluses and minuses, one begins to realize where one could have made better decisions. Can those decisions be changed now? Of course not. Each decision in life acts as a lesson taught – whether or not it is recognized as a lesson learned. I’ve tried hard to learn from my prior decisions in order to make better ones in the future. I guess I just need more practice.
Psychiatrists will tell you that when something is causing you distress, you can do one of two things about it – one internal, one external. You can change how you feel about the situation or you can attempt to make a change in the situation itself.
My method has almost always tended toward the latter rather than the former. So now, I find myself in a situation caused by my reactions to a situation which was caused by my reactions to a situation which was caused by my reactions to yet another situation a few years ago. Am I in a “bad” place? Heck no. I have a great job, a decent roof over my head and a life that many would envy, certainly. I have nothing to complain about – honestly. Am I “happy”? Well, that’s a whole other question. I’m certainly happy that I have health and life and friends and family. What little I can complain about is stuff I really have no right to. It’s all whiny, selfish, unimportant, self-absorbed crap. I’m in a city and state I don’t like. I’m dealing with a climate I don’t like (and it’s not just the heat in summer … I never in a million years would have thought I’d ever get sick of sunshine – but I’m sick of it). I run in to people around this place every day that I don’t like and I really miss my old friends.
And when two weeks ago, my home was burglarized … well, that didn’t help either. That’s never happened to me before. No matter where I’ve lived.
But, one thing I can say without doubt. The actions and leadership of a single person can make a difference. In some cases a huge difference. I used to consider myself simply one cog in a large, immovable, unchangeable machine. I used to hear compliments that people would make about my talents and abilities and slough them off – after all, I was raised in New England humility where you didn’t trumpet your accomplishments because you were told, confidently, that good, hard, high quality work would be rewarded on its own merits when seen by others. I used to think that my presence – or any one person’s presence – on a project or on a team or in an organization wouldn’t matter one way or the other. Sure, the team matters, but most teams don’t do very well or feel very good about themselves without a good leader – or a good coach.
I wish I’d come to realize this earlier and I wish I’d come to realize earlier that I am that good leader. I am that good coach. People have been telling me this for years. Now, staring 50 in the face, my ears have finally opened to the news.
