Pilot vs. Passenger

I had an all-time “proud dad” moment last week while I was riding a ski lift with my daughter. Our family was up at Sugarloaf doing some skiing and snowboarding for the kids’ winter break, and on Wednesday, I got to spend a couple of hours 1:1 with our 7 year-old, Penny. As a recent Florida transplant, she’s new to skiing, and winter in general. But she’s really embraced it so far and enjoys being on the slopes. 

On this particular day, Penny had picked a route that she wanted to ski over and over again. We’d ride the lift to the top of the bunny slope, then cruise down some gentle terrain, dodge some lodge traffic at the base, and continue further down over some little rollers that the ski school sets up for the kids (and big kids like me). We’d then take two lift rides back to the top and hit it again, lap after lap, always meeting at the bottom for fist bumps and a quick recap of how awesome the run was. 

The funnest part of the whole thing was an unspoken, but very real race that kind of organically materialized. You see, I’m a snowboarder, and it takes me a minute to strap in my back foot after getting off the lift. Penny, being a skier, is able to glide off the chair and seamlessly start her descent down the mountain…which means she gets a head start! So, every run started a new race that went something like this: Penny would take off (always with a little wink) while I was fumbling with my bindings, and I’d try my best to catch her before we made it to the bottom. As you might imagine, the intensity started to ramp up once the competitive juices started flowing - we are Smiths, after all. 

On one of the runs, Penny was absolutely cooking down the mountain, going at a speed that made me (and certainly would have made her mother) a bit uncomfortable. She’s done this kind of thing a few times before, and it almost always leads to a very frightened little girl at the base of the hill. So when I met her at the lift, about 10 seconds behind her, I was expecting her to be a little shaken up…but she wasn’t. Not this time. 

I came skidding to stop and gave her a high-five and a big squeeze and we hopped back on a chair for another run. While riding up on the lift, I looked at her and said, “Wow, P! You were really flying on that one! Were you scared?” And then she said…”No, Dad. When I got going really fast, I just told myself that I’m the pilot, not a passenger.”

I was blown away. For a kid who can be very emotional, her calm and poise in that moment felt special. And that phrase seemed so clever and familiar. I asked her where she heard that. Had they taught her that in ski school? Then the big moment came. The one that we parents are always waiting for, but so rarely comes. Penny said, “Dad, you taught me that.” Holy shit! There it was. After almost 18 years of parenting, one of my kids took something I told them, put it to good use, and gave me credit for it! Single tear. 

Once I got over the initial shock and bliss of the moment, I couldn’t help but reflect on the lesson that Penny had just taught back to me. You’re the pilot, not a passenger. What a simple and beautiful metaphor for life. 

I can’t remember where I first heard that phrase, but it was probably in the context of jumping a mountain bike or riding a surfboard. When you’re doing those kinds of activities, it is normal to feel overwhelmed by the height or the speed or the fear and go into passenger mode, just trying to hang on for the ride and not get thrown off. It is a natural part of the learning process, but it is not a space that you want to be in for too long, because you will eventually get hurt. 

At some point, we need to work up the courage and confidence to really take the reigns, to be the pilot of that mountain bike and control its flight through the air, to steer that surfboard on the face of wave…to live our lives knowing that we are behind the controls, not just going along for the ride. 

It is easy to feel like a passenger in a world that is moving really damn fast while living lives that are chalked full of obligations and deadlines. I often catch myself clinging on to the proverbial handlebars, just trying to get through another packed week of work and family commitments. I suppose that’s ok sometimes, but it’s also not how I want things to be all the time. 

I really appreciate Penny giving me a win as a dad last week. It feels wonderful to know that I can help my kids handle new and scary situations. But I really, really appreciate her reminding me that “I am the pilot, not a passenger.”

Leadership on the Trail

Coaching individual leaders is probably the most enjoyable and rewarding aspect of my job. We live in a world that needs authentic servant-leaders more than ever, and my clients are all people who are striving to be better for their teams, companies, families, and friends. It's both humbling and inspiring, and it's hard to imagine a higher-impact use of my limited talents and time.

Something that I find very helpful (though probably annoying at times) is my constant use of metaphors and analogies to illustrate key concepts. In a recent discussion with a client, the topic turned to mentoring and developing junior members of the staff. In this particular case, we were trying to figure out how to move an especially promising young consultant to the next level. She'd quickly adapted to life in the company, was doing very solid work, and had earned the trust of her co-workers and clients. The specific question was: "How does my mentorship need to change? She's mastered the basics and is ready to do more." At this point, my brain flashed to one of my favorite metaphors and I said, "You've done a great job of coaching her to run track, but it is time to get her out on the trails." Said more directly, she'd been managed well, but only leadership could get her to next level. Here is a written summary of the rest of our call.

Management is an analog for coaching Track

• Conditions are generally known and repeatable.

• We are looking to improve through consistency, efficiency, and precision. 

• Standardization and processes are very helpful, even necessary, to get better.

Leadership is more like coaching Trail Running

• The leader must mark the path. It can't all be seen from the starting line. It is varied and imperfect, but requires clear guidance and direction. You don’t want your athletes slowing down or stopping as they try to figure out which way to go.

• The leader must identify and remove obstacles. Your athlete's horsepower is wasted if the path is blocked or too difficult to navigate.

• The leader must be there to pick people up when they fall. You have to give athletes permission to run hard, knowing that they are likely to trip - but you'll accept it and help them back to their feet.

So what might this look like in real life?

Mark the trail:

• She mentioned that she really values spending time with you and being exposed to client interactions - so it would be great to continue giving her more insight and access to your process.

• Include her on the bcc line of an email with a client

• Take a few extra minutes to explain the nuance of client relationship or a product/presentation

• Don't assume that she's picked up on everything. She may actually need some things explained further for context and perspective.

• Take the time to offer clear guidance up front. Confirm that she understands. Ask if she needs anything else - then let her run a little bit and see how she does.

Remove obstacles

• Ask her directly and specifically what she needs. 

• Where does she feel underdeveloped?

• What aspects of the job/business does she not understand?

• When does she feel overwhelmed or lacking confidence?

• What does she want to understand that she currently isn't seeing?

• Who would she like to learn from or interact with?

Pick her up

• Provide some positive reinforcement. She won't ask for it, but she'd definitely appreciate it. Catch her doing something well

• Just give her a little more responsibility with a project. Set her up for success, but let her take it and see how she does.

• Accept that it won't be perfect the first several times.

• Be clear on what she did well, and where she can improve. Clear is kind.

I hope that you find this metaphor helpful on your own leadership journey. If you don't, please feel free to roll your eyes and shrug it off - I take no offense, my kids do it all the time!

If you'd like to hear more, my partner Brandon and I would be happy to chat and maybe even join you on the trail. Just send a note to Blayne@AppliedLeadershipPartners.com and we can set up a time to talk.

The Beauty of the Smash-and-Grab Adventure

As much as I love an epic adventure, I think it’s about time for us to de-couple the words ‘epic’ and ‘adventure’. Most of us want more adventure in our lives, yet we struggle to find it. We dream of the day when we’ll finally thru-hike the Appalachian Trail or go on African Safari or ski the Swiss Alps, but resign ourselves to doing it ‘someday'. These kinds of adventures are expense and timing consuming. They require a ton of planning and preparation. And they probably aren’t going to happen until the kids are off to college (or we win the lottery). But it’ll be epic. Someday.

We don’t have to wait.

Adventure is never far away, and it can be had much more easily and affordably than you might think. Your idea of fun may be different from mine, but the same rules apply. The first step is simple - make adventure a priority in your life. Write it down. Say it out loud. Tell your wife and kids. From there, it just requires a little planning, saving, and a willingness to figure a few things out on the fly. Before you know it, you’ll be off on your first smash-and-grab adventure. Get in, have a blast, get out - and start planning your next one.

Short trips are long on benefits

Adventures are so much more than what physically happens on the trip. One amazing day-trip can provide months of excitement leading up to it and a lifetime of memories when its over. In my experience, an adventure offers four stages of good vibes: Planning, Anticipation, Experience, and Reflection.

Planning - Of all of the things you could talk about or work on, what is better than planning an adventure? Nothing. It’s the best. From brainstorming to researching to booking, the entire process delivers a ton of positive energy. The key here is to plan enough, but not too much. Get the bones of the trip lined up, but try not to get too wrapped up in the weeds. Remember that you’re planning an adventure, not a conference.

Anticipation - This is where having frequent adventures really pays off. If you’ve got something awesome on the horizon, it keeps you moving forward. Sure, today might be dragging, but this weekend, you’ll be cliff jumping. Don’t underestimate this aspect of the process. Hope and excitement about the future is a major protective factor against stress, depression, and all sorts of boogiemen.

Experience - This is supposed to be the best part, but it is also the easiest to screw up. The key to the short (smash-and-grab) adventure is not to try and squeeze in as much as possible. Just experience it, however it goes. I’ve found it best to have a basic plan, with one (maybe two) things that I’d really like to do, then just see what emerges. If you over-plan, you’re setting yourself up for two bad things to happen: 1) You’ll be derailed if one small thing goes wrong or out of sequence (and it will), and 2) You’ll miss some really cool opportunities that you couldn’t have anticipated before you set off, and these are often the most fun.

Reflection - You’ll always have your adventures. The way you felt standing up on your first wave or summiting a mountain is a part of you, and you can access it for the rest of your life. You’ll remember how that beer tasted after a 4-hour mountain bike ride, how the air smelled waking up in morning on the trail, and how much your ass hurt after snowboarding for the first time. You’ll share laughs with friends as you look back on all the foolish stuff you tried and somehow escape unscathed. Most importantly, you’ll think about your life and know that it didn’t just pass you by. You’ll have these adventures as guideposts to walk you back through the years, each one distinct, and memorable, and well-lived.

People matter most

What you do and where you do it matters much less than who you do it with. Some places and events are truly amazing and are absolutely worth the saving and planning required to make them happen. That said, I’d much rather hunt pheasants in East Texas with a bunch of my Army buddies than go on any exotic adventure without them. Sharing an adventure with the people you love is priceless, even if the location is ‘ordinary’. Kids are great reminders of this. I’ll never forget taking our boys to the Harry Potter world at Universal Studios. We had a good time at the theme park. It was cool. But then we spent 3 hours playing in the hotel pool, ordered chicken tenders, and watched a movie in our crappy room. And what part of that day are they still talking about? Sometimes I think we should just drive the 90 minutes to Orlando, skip all the hoopla, get a cheap room, and just rage at the pool. That time together, with no distractions and no agenda, could have happened anywhere.

In upcoming posts, we’ll talk specifics on some of our favorite smash-and-grab adventures. We’ll get into locations, logistics, expenses, and activities. But for now, I’d ask you to lower the bar a bit. Call up a buddy. Pick a weekend. Pack a bag. And just go…even if you need to be home for dinner.

You can also hear more on this topic on this episode of the Anthem of the Adventurer podcast. My friend, Dan Zehner and I have a great chat about family, friends, all things adventure.

Room to Grow

I've noticed lately that lots of people are "on the grind".  They "rise and grind" everyday.  I have to be honest with you, I'm not sure I know what that means.  What are we grinding?  Our teeth?  Our gears? Don't get me wrong, I'm a big believer in both hard work and discipline.  Nothing really great gets accomplished without them.  I'm just suggesting that we may be a little too inclined to grind away on the hamster wheel of life without paying enough attention to where we are going.  It doesn't really matter how fast you're running, if it's in the wrong direction or on a treadmill, you're not likely to reach your desired destination.

What if instead of grinding, we focused on growing?  What if we gave ourselves just a little more time and space to think, dream, experiment, and create?  What if I told you that the most productive and prolific people you know…are already doing this?  Those people that you see writing books, building small businesses, and otherwise doing cool stuff…they’ve all given themselves permission to look up, take a breathe, and think about what they really want to do with their time on this Earth.  They’re still working really hard, they’re just working on the right things…because they’ve taken the time to figure out what those “right things” are.

Here’s a short story that drove this concept home for me.  Last summer, my co-workers and I had the privilege of spending a day with famed business/leadership guru, Jim Collins.  I’d read his books (which are fantastic) and had really embraced the concepts of disciplined thought and disciplined action…but I know now, that my understanding was too narrow.  I thought that Jim was teaching me to “grind”, more like a soviet-era factory worker than an entrepreneur…and as soon as I met Jim, I knew that I had it (at least partly) wrong.  The first thing I noticed when I walked into his conference room was Jim’s “20-mile march” written in the corner of his white board.  The term 20-mile march describes the concept of adhering to a consistent and challenging micro-goal that you believe will ultimately get you to your desired BIG goal.  Guess what Jim’s 20-mile march was…spend at least 40 creative hours each month!  At first, I couldn’t believe it, but then it all made sense.

We can use the same discipline and drive that makes us good "grinders" to create room for thought, reflection, and creativity.  It was great news for me, because it showed me that not only was creative time important, but I didn’t have to quit my life and wander the Earth to make it happen.  While unplugging for a week (or even a few days) is a great way to create space, we can actually schedule it in to our regular lives.  You have the time. You’ll just have to carve it out. Here are a few things that I do within the normal rhythm of life to make sure I’m not on the hamster wheel:

• Meet my friend for coffee one day each month to discuss our current creative endeavors and review our progress.

• Get up extra early one morning each week to go for a light run and write for 45 minutes.

• Listen to stimulating podcasts like Freakonomics Radio, TED Radio Hour, and The Tim Ferriss Show when I’m riding in the car or taking a shower.

• Take a one-week vacation twice per year to a place without cell phone reception.

These are just examples that work for me, but please find a way to make this work in your life.  Don't feel guilty for taking some time to scribble on your white board, debate a topic with friends, or just sit back and think.  Give yourself some room to grow...there's still plenty of time left to be busy.