Category Archives: Growth

The Realtionship

A few months ago I was listening to The Tim Ferris Show.  If you are not familiar with Tim’s podcast, I encourage you to check it out. On this particular day Tim’s guest was Jocko Willink, a retired Navy SEAL, author and in every sense, a guy that gets stuff done.

On the podcast Jocko spoke about the book that he had co-authored with Leif Babin.  Extreme Ownership is a great read.  The book holds a lofty position on the New York Times bestseller list so I am not alone in my opinion on this one.  There are plenty of ah-ha moments in the book, but it’s how the information is conveyed that sets it apart.  No waffle, just straight up and at times confronting.

Jocko recently launched his own podcast.  He is five episodes into it so I am late to the party.  This morning I listened to Episode One of “Jocko Podcast”.  The guy is a powerful story teller.  The content was all real world stuff and much of it quite emotive.

In the podcast Jocko spoke about his SEAL Team and the relationships they had built.  His team would do anything he asked of them.  Anything.  Jocko felt this was not because of the directions he had issued as their commander, but because of the strength of the relationships they had forged.  In return he would do anything for them.  Jocko feels none of this happened because of orders, it was all by choice, to support one another.  The power of the relationship.

Hold that thought and consider our environments at work.  Do we have those sorts of relationships with our teams and the individuals within them?  Would they do whatever it took to acheive an outcome?  By choice or through compliance?  What would we do for them?

We spent a lot of time and energy looking out the window at our customers, external stakeholders, investors, etc.  Maybe we need to invest more in our own house.

Combat, service, life and death will build bonds that we will likely never replicate at the office, but that is not an excuse to let it go.  We don’t need to talk about it, consult and over plan.  We just need to get after it.  Make it a priority to demonstrate our commitment to our people through our attitudes and actions and I suspect many of those metrics we like to track will head in the right direction.  As Jocko says, outcomes require action.

 

 

 

 

 

 


So what’s in the box?

Despite my protests, the last few long weekends have brought many DIY projects.   Things were cleaned, rooms have been painted, windows repaired, trees were cut down and others planted.  When all of this started a few weeks ago the list was fairly long.  As I have worked through my projects the list has remained daunting with new tasks added at about the same pace that I cross off the others.  The DIY treadmill?

I know I am not alone in my toil.  Familiar faces bond at the local DIY store were we seek advice, supplies and tools we will probably only use once.  We all have our DIY loyalty cards, but we openly weep when we overhear someone quote the trade price.  Regardless of what we buy, our cars are always slightly too small.  You can spot us DIY guys on Saturday mornings, seat wedged ridiculously close to the steering wheel, our peripheral vision impossibly obscured by fence posts, bags of cement and a forest of bargain-bin plants.  The pièce de résistance in all of this must be the box of 250 screws sitting on the front seat when just one will get the job done.  Of course it is not impossible to buy just one screw.

Over hundreds of weekends and an equal number of trips to the DIY store I have amassed a treasure trove of nails, brackets, handles, fasteners and miscellaneous bits of timber, adhesives and putties (the list goes on).  Every project yields extra parts.  Predictably though still mysteriously, even those projects that had no parts to begin with seem to produce left over stuff.  All these extra parts need to live somewhere and so is born the DIYer’s collection.

It was after regular store hours when I found myself lacking one stainless steel screw to repair a gate that was apparently damaged by the Easter Bunny (or so In was told).  In my panic I looked for a DIY store open late.  Who doesn’t fix a gate at 9.45pm on Sunday (Easter Sunday at that)?  None of the DIY stores complied and I sat down to contemplate some other solutions.  I was desperate, really desperate.

As I sunk to the depths of despair over another incomplete project, I was struck with an epiphany.  Could my DIY graveyard yield the missing piece of hardware?  The giant metal bin was bulging with a lifetime of project castoffs.  With the use of a well placed skateboard I was able to position the bin just so.  Calling on what was surely super human strength, I upended the great DIY bin.

It was like Christmas.  Yes I found the stainless steel screw and I fixed the gate.  More importantly I found reminders of the many MacGyver inspired solutions I had come up with over the years.  Experience is a great teacher.  Of course attaching this piece to that would not stand the test of time.  I know that now, but didn’t when I tried it the first time.

What can we learn by revisiting those long forgotten projects?  Are we really learning or are we moving from one project to the next, relying on the same insights and capabilities, but expecting bigger and bigger outcomes?

SDG

 

 

 

 

 


A Guy Named Tom

Tom passed away last week.  Cancer.

He worked for one of my clients and by all accounts was a genuine good guy.  Talented, passionate and driven.  People told me stories of Tom’s last few weeks with the company and I was moved by the integrity and grit of the man. 

As Tom’s illness spread he chose to step away from his role.  He felt he could no longer deliver to his own high standards.  On one of Tom’s last days with the company he sent a note to his colleagues, thanking them for all they had done to enrich his life.  People had told me of Tom’s note, but I had not seen it until this morning.

Tom wrote with humor, gratitude and emotion.  He shared stories of his adventures and the things he learned along the way.  Tom loved the culture that had been created by his employer and he was saddened when he had to step away.  This sits in such contrast to the employer bashing that we hear so often.  I have done it so won’t be throwing any stones.

I never met Tom, but I have learned a lot from him.  His 500 word note has challenged my own attitudes and caused me to ask some hard questions of myself.  I will just say I don’t like all of the answers.

I am sorry, but I can’t share Tom’s note, it wouldn’t be right.

SDG

 

 

 


With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility

For close to 10 years I have been a member of the local rowing club.  My outrigger canoes, k1s and surfskis have all lived in the historic shed.  I was always the odd ball, the non-rower, but over time I was accepted (ish) into the clan.  I am not on the water much anymore, but I still use the gym and do my best to keep up with the regulars on the erg.

The rowing club is not a fancy place, just enough to get the job done.  Many of New Zealand’s rowing elite have trained at the club and their pictures and stories adorn the walls.  Much of the equipment is rusty and only a fool would go near the place in a white shirt.  The rowing club is a place of serious work.  Rusty, serious work.

Club members are issued a key that is sacred.  The key allows us to keep our own hours which is of course the glorious benefit of membership.  Do what you want, when you want.  The keeper of these keys has little tolerance for any tomfoolery.  Should a club member misplace a key, that member is forever besmirched.  As punishment, lost keys seem to take months to replace, in addition to the $10 replacement fee.  Oh my…

The club is run by a group of veteran rowers.  A rowing mafioso of sorts.  It is unwise to cross the club officials as their power is absolute.  The key guy is part of the mafioso.

In the early hours of this morning I was in the gym, rust covered hands, doing my thing. I was approached by one of the club officials.  I sensed a turning point was looming.  The veteran rowers were soon to depart for the World Masters Games in Italy (of course) and they needed my help.  Feeling that I was about to be invited to join the inner circle, I jumped to my feet.

I was given a special key though it was made clear this was a temporary loan.  I was half expecting a blood oath or secret handshake to follow.  I was told the mafioso would be away for five weeks and in their absence someone had to keep an eye on things.

The instructions were precise.  Every other day I was to use the special key to ensure the supply of toilet paper was at an acceptable level.  The high school rowing programmes would be commencing soon and failure was not an option.

While the responsibility is not trivial, I believe I can exceed expectations and conduct myself with distinction.  My ascension has begun.

 

 

 


Rusty

For the past six months I have had some big distractions.  I tried to adapt by focusing on the tasks right in front of me.  Looking back now, I realize I did more harm than good.  I relaxed on some of the things that help me perform at my best and there were flow-on effects from this.

The short version is that I began to settle, things became good enough.  I was content with the effort I was putting in and the outcomes I was achieving.  I am all for contentment, but it has to be real.  If I was doing my absolute best and still mid-pack, then so be it, but I was nowhere near my best.

A few weeks back a friend of mine sent me as note about his partner and their plans over Easter.  It turns out Richard’s partner is one of those people that just does stuff.  She is an MD with interests well outside of her medical practice and a thirst for challenge and action.  Reading Richard’s note, I could sense the anticipation and maybe a little trepidation over his pending adventures. This is what I was missing.  I had become comfortable.

With Richard’s note in the back of my mind and some well timed closure on those distractions, I got into action of my own. I am just a few weeks into the rebuild, but the process is fantastic.  I am rediscovering the rhythm that helps me perform.  I am also rusty and sore.  Many of the things that I let slip over the past six months have to be relearned and this is uncomfortable.

Relearning is great though, a chance to do things a little better the second (or tenth) time through.  The challenge of setting new goals is hugely empowering as is the opportunity to learn from some epic failures (a personal specialty).

Roll on new day…
SDG


Playing Against the Wall

I was into tennis when I was a kid.  I used to spend hours hitting the ball against a wall at the local tennis courts.  I wanted to be Bjorn Borg.  Things didn’t work out very well for me in tennis and Bjorn Borg I am not.

Practicing against the wall is great.  The wall always gives something back.  Sometimes its not what you expected and you have to adjust pretty quickly.  Over time, I found the better I placed the ball, the better the return.

Parenting is a bit like practicing tennis against a wall.  You always get something back.  Yes, sometimes what you get back forces you to adjust quickly, just like tennis.

I have enjoyed a great summer with my kids.  We have had a lot of adventures and continued to build memories.  We did all the things people do over summer.  Most of all we laughed.

School started a few days ago for one of my daughters.  I walked her to school and into her new classroom.  I spoke with the teacher and the parents I had not seen over summer.

My daughter said goodbye and she ran off to share stories of her summer with friends old and new.  I walked away feeling proud of how much she had grown and pleased she had so many great friends.

A few seconds later I felt a familiar pair of arms around my waist.  In the rush of the first day back, my daughter forgot to tell me she loved me.

Kids just keep giving back.  Like I learned in tennis, the better I give, the better I get back.

 

SDG


Ropes and Chains

A few weeks ago I decided that it was time to put some extra effort into my fitness (yes, again).  I had been on my bike a bit, but not enough to avoid weekly floggings at the local group rides.  Watching people ride away with relative ease is always a good reality check.

This past week has been filled with work travel, sick kids and other challenges so for the most part my bike has collected dust.  Instead I did a lot of circuit training with all sorts of different bits of equipment.  I scheduled a few sessions around my work travel and connected with various masters of torture/ fitness gurus while on the road.  An interesting and uncomfortable week, but incredible with yet another reality check.

For years I had been to the gym off and on.  The usual stuff did not provide the return on investment I was looking for.  I joked with friends that it was a result of my all-butter diet, but the lack of results did bother me.  I would go to the gym for awhile and then drift away, only to return a month or two later for another dose of gym mania.  No doubt this is a cycle many people know well.

This past week I did not step foot in a gym, but had some incredible sessions.  I fielded many questions as to why I was walking and moving like an old man over that last few days.  I joked that I was an old man but did not admit to the volume of anti-inflammatories required just to get around. I have chopped wood, lifted tractor tyres, pushed cars, thrown some big rocks and only just survived a session with ropes and chains  (not those kinds of ropes and chains).  None of the workouts were very long, but all were very effective.  Apparently this is all called functional fitness, though I doubt I will feel very functional for at least another week.

People talk about game changing innovations all the time, changes to the old way of doing things to deliver a competitive advantage.  Some of my best examples of creativity and innovation have come from the past week.  An axe, some logs, a big rope and a rusty chain all provided an experience I would have never expected.  The thing that made these innovations work so well was the passion of those using them.  The people I met during the week were fiercely committed to what they did.  So much so that I pushed simply because I did not want to let them down.

During the combined five minutes where I was allowed to stop wheezing, I thought about this learning and how it relates to leadership.  In the presence of true innovation and absolute commitment do you also have pure leadership?  Over the past week I was inspired to raise my performance, take some risks and trust the process.  I think that may answer the leadership question.

SDG

 

 

 

 

 


Week Two or Weak Too?

I decided to shoot the lock off of my wallet and buy a new road bike.  I had ridden a lot when I was younger, but had not done much in recent times.  At great expense I updated my riding kit and headed out to rediscover the fitness of years gone by.  A few times a week I did some short rides and when possible I would squeeze in a longer ride over the weekend.

I was pretty pleased with my efforts and thought I was going along okay.  My rides were more about keeping active than really training.  To my thinking, this cycling stuff gave me a license to eat whatever I wanted.  The reality was slightly askew from my perception. The output was just a few percent behind the intake.  You can see where all of this is headed.  Let me just say cycling gear is not always flattering, nor are chocolate croissants.

Two weeks ago I did a group ride with a great bunch of guys.  Great because they kept waiting for me.  The physical discomfort and the psychological damage of being repeatedly dropped from the group made this a humbling experience.  As I said, the guys waiting and were very supportive. No one said anything negative, but I knew what they were thinking.  No one wants to be a scrub.

Upon arriving home I tried to find a problem with my bike that would explain the poor performance.  Every component was scrutinized.  I cleaned and adjusted every moving and non-moving almost wishing for a flaw, anything that would rescue my self esteem.   Sadly everything was working just fine.

The solution was pretty clear. GIGO comes to mind, but that would just show my age.  If I wanted to keep up with these guys I would have to put in some effort.  Two weeks into it and I have taken a few steps in the right direction.  I am on the bike more often and with purpose.  I have also made the necessary (and painful) modifications to my diet.  My expectation is that the floggings from the training group will not stop anytime soon and I am okay with that.  As I improve, so do they and for now I just want (and need) to narrow that gap a little.  Misson #1 is to not get dropped.

So my original question week two or weak too.  Yes I am in week two of my “project” and begrudgingly I have to say yes I am weak too.  Heading out the door now to change that…

 

SDG

 

 

 


The Towel

I was lamenting with a colleague about the seemingly one-way information flow we often encounter.  You will know the feeling as well.  We agonize over every word to ensure the intent is precise.  Misinterpretation has killed many a good person and we will not be on that list.  Heart on sleeve we press send…

Having raised our game changing comms piece from nothing but a pixel on a screen, we await the glowing responses.  Then we wait some more.  The next step in the process usually involves early stage denial.  Surely, such a beautiful piece of work would have elicited a response by now.  Our friends at the help desk assure us the message has been sent.

By now desperation has set in and we revert to asking those around us if they have received our email.  Yes, we have hit rock bottom.  Salt on the wound would be a welcomed alternative to the affirmation that the message was received but a reply would not be forthcoming.

After awhile we do question if the return justifies the effort.  At what point do we throw in the towel?  We have other stuff to do and if no one cares, why should we?  My colleague’s brilliant advice, “Hold on to that towel.”

Lack of response should not limit the enthusiasm of effort.  People do hear us, it just so happens that our words are so amazing they cant possibly reply in kind. No really.

 

SDG

 


Meeting Someone New

Like everyone around me, I was sitting in the hospital waiting room reading magazines from before my kids were born.  At the request of my doctor I was having a few tests done.  Nothing major, just playing it safe.

A lady in her late 60s sat down beside me and started a conversation.  We talked about her battle with cancer and how she had used a strict vegetarian diet, eating only organics in an attempt to win her fight against the disease.

As with most people that have been around for awhile, she had great experiences to share.  The key is listening.  I learned so many things from the stranger next to me.   After 30 minutes she was called away by one of the doctors.  As she was leaving she mentioned today was a big day for her.  She said that her test results would determine if she was to stay or go.  These were her words, not mine.

When we are open to learn, lessons are everywhere.  Now it’s up to me to do something with it.

SDG