A Leadership Lesson for All
truggle well. It is a phrase I have come to embrace more and more in life as I come to a better understanding of how best to navigate life’s challenges, particularly when failure emerges from unexpected places, at unpredicted times, in the middle of life’s pursuits. That struggle can feel all too real, almost visceral, to those stung by failure. How we respond and how we struggle through adversity is often the best litmus test by which leaders are created and then re-created from their former selves. I am a work in progress when it comes to these things, probably like a lot of others, no longer staring down at our failures themselves, but rather, beyond them and rounding the bend. Struggling well, you might say.
From a lessons-learned perspective, our response to failure can take many forms, and it often does, before we settle on a course of action geared toward overcoming the challenges that at times jolt our core beliefs and identities, the foundation upon which we have stood. I have found that amid personal struggle over failures, leadership, regardless of its application, requires brutal honesty with oneself, first to suss out its roots. This is a difficult task during trying times, those times when doubt and a lack of confidence over failure can muddle our views and cloud the reality around us.
Time in military service is one of those rare gifts only offered to a few. For me, it was a lifetime of experience and lessons well learned that I credit with turning me into the person I am today: someone whose mistakes and failures have been overcome through resiliency, recovery and sharing setbacks, disappointment and failure with others. There were plenty of opportunities to witness tragedy, failures and personal shortcomings throughout my 26 years of active service. And like a lot of others, the learning presented through each experience provided me insight, wisdom and teachable moments through which to further develop myself and those around me. One tool in particular, the After-Action Review (AAR), became a favorite vehicle for reflecting on areas that required improvement and sustainment. The AAR has stuck with me for life as an effective vehicle for constantly assessing areas requiring additional attention, a personal tune-up following tough moments to become more self-aware and engaged with taking care of myself and others.
That unfamiliarity and isolation led to an ever-increasing work ethic, a form of overcompensating for something that was missing, based on the belief that I could out-work those around me through sheer determination and grit. I was the one everyone could rely on to get things done and take care of people every step of the way, just as I had been while serving in the Army. I realized that my attempts to always be superhuman led me to abruptly becoming human. This is the most important lesson I have learned to date: I am human, someone prone to failure at times.
A colleague once commented, “My god, you actually are human. What happened to you?” As I described to her my experiences with always having to be “on” all those years, I realized that in so doing I had failed those closest around me. After giving my all to those I worked with, I had nothing left to give those in my personal realm. I avoided my responsibilities. Failure, it seemed, had found me.
