What Commuting Taught Me About Leadership – Stay Humble
The only way we can GET better is to believe that we CAN get better—which requires humility.
Recently I left a job at a great company but with a long daily commute. This is the final entry of a 7-post series on things I learned about leadership on those long and tedious hours on the road.
– – – – –
I believe I’m a reasonably accomplished driver. It’d be easy to relax and not work at improving my driving skills, based on miles I’ve driven and the success I’ve demonstrated at dodging other drivers’ poor decisions.
Yet I must face the facts. There are still times I’ve started to change lanes unaware that someone was in my blind spot, or turned a corner roughly or braked sooner—or later—than I could have.
If I don’t face those facts, I’ll start thinking I don’t need to get better. Which leads to thinking I can’t get any better. Which tells me that I’m better than anyone else. Then I’m convinced that accidents only happen to other people. Which leads me to believe that accidents can’t happen to me. Then I stop using my skills. Then I get careless. Then I’m a bad driver—who still thinks he’s a good driver.
Scary.
“If I don’t face those facts, I’ll start thinking I don’t need to get better.”
And Your Point Is…?
The only way we can get better is to believe that we can get better.
So What?
I have a favorite leadership development mantra: You can’t get better by continuing to do what you’re already good at. It’s easy to over-leverage what has made us successful, whether that’s experience, personality, intelligence, tenacity … whatever.
“You can’t get better by continuing to do what you’re already good at.”
But to borrow Marshall Goldsmith’s perfectly titled book, What Got You Here Won’t Get You There, all those success-generating traits have a ceiling, a limit. Overusing them can make us think we’re a good leader, when we’re really just riding the wave of past success.
This creates blind spots, where we miss opportunities to lead more effectively. And it won’t prepare us for the leadership challenges to come.
“Overusing them can make us think we’re a good leader, when we’re really just riding the wave of past success.”
This requires a level of humility, and a dispassionate, objective view of ourselves. All with a sense of self-acceptance (i.e. my value isn’t based on my performance), coupled with a drive to improve (to fulfill our potential).
The Big Picture
It might seem odd to pair personal development with humility, but there’s a very strong correlation. People who aren’t humble aren’t hungry to learn and grow; there’s no incentive to get better. It takes humility to recognize you have untapped potential.
Your Next Step
Get someone who knows you and has your best interests in mind to reveal how you can improve. Do a 360-leadership assessment. Get a coach. But above all: Believe that you can get better.
Then never stop trying.
Want more leadership insights?
Check out:
What Commuting Taught Me About Leadership – You Hit What You Aim For
If you don’t have a clear picture of what kind of leader you want to be, is it really a surprise that you’re not as effective as you could be?
recently left a position with a great company, but with a long daily commute. This is the fourth post of an 8-week series on things about leadership that I learned on those long and tedious hours on the road.
– – – – –
It’s easy to get bored driving the same road every day. To break the monotony I started attempting to avoid the reflectors when I changed lanes (when there were no other cars around, of course!).
After months of trying I had some occasional successes. But truth be told, I sucked at it—which troubled me because I knew I was a better driver than that.
Then one day I had an epiphany: Instead of aiming to miss the reflectors, I needed to aim for the stripe between them. The difference was instant and amazing.
As soon as I adjusted my aim point, I had almost immediate success. I could predict where my wheels were going. I could anticipate when to initiate the lane change and intentionally drive where I wanted to go. Ultimately, getting really clear on my target allowed me to get better.
And Your Point Is…?
You hit what you aim for.
“Getting really clear on my target allowed me to get better.”
So What?
First (and most obvious), not aiming is the same as aiming at nothing—you’re going to hit something, you just don’t know what it will be. When I first started my game I tried to “feel” my way into the next lane and hope for the best. Didn’t work.
Second, if your aim is off target, that’s what you’ll hit: everything except the target. This was my aha experience with the reflectors: In attempting to miss them, I was actually still aiming for them. The reflectors is what I was concentrating on. In focusing on the challenge, I was blind to seeing the solution.
“Not aiming is the same as aiming at nothing—you’re going to hit something, you just don’t know what it will be.”
The Big Picture
Consider how your aim comes into play when you compare A) aiming for success (the stripe), to B) aiming for avoiding failure (missing the reflectors). Aiming to NOT fail is NOT aiming for success.
“In focusing on the challenge, I was blind to seeing the solution.”
Some simple real world examples might be “I’ll be less critical in my feedback” or “I’ll be more aggressive in producing outcomes.” Typically, any goal stated in such squishy terms is likely not to be met. Not only is the outcome not measurable, the path to achievement is obscure. This is a common concept in managing performance (a la setting SMART goals), but for some reason many people have difficulty applying the concept in managing development—especially their own.
Your Next Step
What’s an area you’d like to improve in that you’ve set goals around not failing? How can you reset them so they’re focused on the target?
“Aiming to NOT fail is NOT aiming for success.”
Want more leadership insights?
Check out: