Signing Off:
You’re STILL Here?

With the best leaders, when the work is done, the task accomplished,
the people will say, “We have done this ourselves.”
—Lao Tzu

And so, my friends, it has come to this.

This is pretty much a wrap. I’m getting that misty-eyed last-day-of-camp feeling. Which proves that pouring a healthy dose of T into an F doesn’t change the core temperament.

I’m wiped out. You can take things over from here. I’ll back up just about any management hypothesis you espouse at this late hour.

Speaking of which, let’s talk about what happens when you release control. In my experience, despite complaints about having much to do, letting go is one of the scariest feats for a manager.

One of my favorite team problem-solving activities involves a challenge with a Koosh ball, an all-time great invention if you ask me (no one has asked me yet, so it feels good to get my opinion out there). Without going into all the details, I’ll tell you that the team’s task is to figure out how to get the Koosh ball to travel through the hands of every participant as fast as humanly possible.

Most teams I work with eventually achieve the stated objective. I consider less than one second as fast as humanly possible for teams of eight to twenty people. Don’t you?

I’m not going to tell you the whole rigmarole, because if you find yourself in one of my programs you’ll be tempted to be a big show-off.

The point (one of several, actually) is that teams can only accomplish the task as fast as humanly possible by surrendering control of the Koosh ball. Rather than passing the ball from hand to hand, the team needs to figure out a way for the ball to roll of its own accord, letting gravity take over. Getting out of the way (chapter 1) becomes a metaphor for the value of relinquishing control. This generally goes over quite well with your employees, particularly when they know you’ll support them as needed.

At a certain point, you just have to get out of the way.

Instincts! Or… What If I Screw It All Up?

Let’s discuss that gut of yours. Would it kill you to do a few sit-ups? Just kidding. You’re gorgeous as is. What I’m really interested in is your inner gut. (Forget that inner child; he just riles things up.) Befriending your inner gut can do wonders for your management style, decision-making ability, and confidence.

Modern times don’t give the gut its due.

Technology permeates our lives and can be used to weigh options, provide heaps of data for “logical” choices, and just about everything else. And yet…

Guts are low tech. You can use them on takeoff and landing. The gut instinct is a subtle messenger, requiring us to temporarily exit the chaotic din of our hectic lives to hear what our intuition has to say. Many people are too distracted, impatient, or frazzled to bother.

This is an error.

Your gut—call it intuition, sixth sense, or instinct—is a gold mine of wise decisions, choices, and actions. Why do so many managers disregard or suppress it?

You’re asking me? I’ve no idea. Disregarding a free, accurate, travel-ready resource makes no sense. Inquire around and let me know what you find out. It’ll be fun to poke holes in the arguments for why ignoring intuition is a sound leadership practice.

In my book (this one, to be precise), dissing instincts flies in the face of being successful. We must be the strongest version of ourselves to climb past the plateaus and up to that coveted management pinnacle. And the road map to the path up is way deep inside your core. I love the following quote from a decidedly unsentimental, very T, retired U.S. Navy captain:

“The more you trust yourself and your instincts,
the better manager you’ll be.”

I’ve been so adamant. Here’s a caveat. Check instincts against facts and account for the input of others. I had the unfortunate experience of working with a manager who held his intuition in singular regard above all else. No data was checked; he did what he sensed was right, even when his direct reports provided compelling cases for why another path was better and all exterior information shouted the opposite truth. He needlessly derailed his career at breakneck speed.

And now I will share a humiliating true story that I can’t believe I’m putting into print. Too many late nights, I suppose. You need to be a very loyal reader for the right to peruse this story. If you haven’t already, go read everything else I’ve ever written. Make it snappy; I don’t have all day. Also, if you’re recklessly skipping around in this book, happening upon this story randomly, that doesn’t count. You need to have read your way this far for me to expose myself in this way.

Okay, then! Now that you’ve demonstrated your overall commitment and support, I will allow you to continue reading.

This event occurred at the U.S. Space and Rocket Center in Huntsville, Alabama. USSRC is NASA’s first visitor center. It opened in 1970 and has hosted more than 12 million visitors on expansive grounds chock-full of real rockets, an impressive museum, and a multifaceted educational center. I was a leader-in-training for a team-building program and having a blast. In the following activity, I was a regular participant.

The stakes for success were sickeningly high. Get this: If we didn’t locate our lost-in-space fellow astronaut within thirty minutes, he would be permanently lost in space. They gave us no information, however, about where this astronaut might be hanging out. I can say those facilitators had a real gift for making everything seem urgent and real. My partner in crime and I looked at each other frantically. Spontaneously, side by side, we began running as fast as our legs could carry us. After a sizable sprint, the facilitators caught up to us, huffing and puffing.

“Wait! Wait! Where are you going?” they asked. My teammate and I looked at each other, mortified. We had no idea where we were headed.

Until that charming moment, I may have denied that my take-action impulse could so override my create-a-strategy business school training. Suddenly I realized how easy it is to “just do it” without thinking through things for a split second.

Participating in this enlightening experience cemented for me the value of discussing before doing. And yet…! If I had merely attended a lecture on the value of strategic planning compared to reactionary leadership, I would have zoned out. How pedestrian! How obvious! Instead, experiencing firsthand my own authentic and frankly ineffective natural response to a challenge was something I couldn’t skim over. I was forced to face an aspect of my style that needed attention. Noticing my reactive tendencies enables me to modify them to best match circumstances. Sometimes fast action works; other times it needs to be calibrated.

The same can be said for thinker and feeler reactions. Sometimes we respond to adversity best in a pragmatic, calm, disassociated manner. Sometimes we do better letting empathy lead. Other times a mix is most effective.

You’re in charge, so grab the reins and make a grand entrance on your own terms. It’s the only way to go.

Here’s a joke I heard years ago; it stuck. Two construction workers are sitting on a high beam way up in a building site, preparing for their lunch break. One opens his lunch box and says, “Tuna again! I hate tuna.” His buddy responds, “Why don’t you ask your wife to make you something else then?” To which the first worker grumbles, “I make my own lunches.”

Are you him? Fix yourself up a management sandwich that fits you. Why suffer needlessly?

From Me to You: A Closing Gift

Although reproduction of sections of this book must be cleared through my publisher (see opening pages), I grant you permission to adapt and use any of the activities described in these pages. It’s an infinite pie out there; savor your favorite slice.

My writing goals are to help improve work life, relationships, productivity, and your satisfaction as a manager. Enjoy!

Tell me your stories.

One last assignment before we part ways:

Be fabulous.

Oh, wait. You already are. Check!

See you again soon… Time to clock out.