I want to stop the Fear of not being part of the world that has kept myself from growing. Trying to stay small when I’m built to grow. Stalling backwards on a hill, instead of going forward. I must embrace the real me no matter what others do or say.
The most important person I must keep happy is myself. Everything else will follow.
Something I wrote about this time last year. Departure from the grind of work and stuff
Under all the wrappings and tough act, the fragile parts of me breaks into million pieces once exposed.
The heart cries and sobs not knowing how to let go of past demons. Too many what ifs and unanswered longings. Too many regrets. Unresolved pains of the past.
Holding on, not wanting to let go. Too precious to forget. Too angry to forgive. Too blind to see how I’ve grown. Too blind to see how small the world has shrunk.
Until one day I decided to open my eyes. Bravest and closets to me reminds me to live the life based on who I am today, instead of the past me. Unbeknownst to me, I had been stuck on me from the past. The person that I used to be.
I hate this game, but if forced to play, I will. And if forced to play, I’ll play to win.
But I don’t like this finite game with winners and losers. I like the game in which we don’t have to check the contract because we are one team with one goal. Instead of pointing fingers and pushing back, saying ‘we’re not supposed to do this before xyz…’, I welcome, ‘We can if …”
I just sent a series of mails to a senior leader after playing ‘nice’ and seeing no traction.
Eish.
I look forward to the invite game with no clear winners and losers. I hope we can all adjust to the new rules to have fun instead of playing hokey pokey all around.
The controller in me wanted to take a back seat to give the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she’ll do a good job without so many check points and prodding. So I let go and don’t check up for two weeks.
She tells me I can move in, so I schedule movers and furniture delivery. Upon arrival, I see defects everywhere. Painting must be redone. Paint is everywhere. The cabinets are not done. The floor re-sanded, varnished, and polished. The curtain doesn’t hang right. The spaces in between pleats are uneven and looks cheap. The fan in one room spins one way. The other one, the other….
An overall shoddy work. No sense of pride in the work or ownership.
And so, I’ve moved in, but they’re going to have to fix it in the next two weeks.
Why do we hurry and do things half way just to fix it and do it again? Why do it thrice what can be done once?
And so, I am back to my controller way of working. I’ve posted red post-it notes around all the defects.
He tries to walk past. He’s too quick. His smile too bright. Something must be wrong…? So she stops him and calls him in. One by one, we grow to a size of 6. We all sit around a table fit for 20.
To get to the real problem, she digs deep. Her questions are designed to invite yes/no answers. Once she gets to a ‘no’, the how is asked. Then the clincher. Why is this happening, and why are we only finding about this now?
“So, it works for one set of data, but not the other? The logic is broken for the other set?”
Apparently a known issue to one party but not the rest of the team.
“…Wait… didn’t someone raise this two months ago, and you told us everything was fine…? You’re telling us now, less than 24 hours before going live that the system will only give us 50% of the solution?
After we told you…this is the biggest game changer for us?”
Her sharpness cuts through the silence. No one dares to speak. When she resumes, her voice is devoid of anger. She grows calm and asks how we can solve the problem.
She asks whether we can still turn things on. We have a promise to keep. She asks for practical and comprehensive plan of action based on real timelines, effort required and impact, before close of business Monday.
“…But that’s too short of a timeline…”
“Please present us with standard operating procedure. Further, this is a product defect you’ve known for months. We trust you to come back to us no later than Noon. Thank you.”
She adjourns the meeting.
What can we do when the service provider fails and is unable to deliver? The person in charge can’t do the work so he makes circular excuses. The money spent on the provider is wasted. Sunk.
We find out too late…the very people we’ve been berating for failing to deliver, they’re not the problem. They’re suffering just as much. Worse than the rest of us. Their shepherd has failed his flock of hard-workers.
All this time, we’ve been faulting the herd for flying blind, not the Shepherd.
The leader who gives zero Fs about his flock. The leader who knows nothing and can’t be bothered to learn. Doesn’t care to ask questions. And so, everyone under his leadership flairs and fails.
What do we do when they fail and bring others down with them?
We have to fill the gaps once again. If we don’t, we’re just as bad as the lazy Shepherd. Perhaps worse because we see how hard they’re trying. We see how much they want to learn. We see them grasping for straws.
Frustrating? Yes. Annoying? Totally.
But if we care. If we want to succeed, we must do the impossible. We must do what no one else wants to do. We must do the things that others are too afraid to do.
Once fixed, and not patched. Once the strong foundation is built and maintained, the flock can pick up the pieces. They can carry on without their blinders on, no longer leaning on the incompetent.
Once done and done well, our work is done.
I leave work at 3 to go home early to nap before pumping out more content.
Good to have plans, but life’s got plans of its own.
What usually takes me 30 minutes takes 3 hours. Why? Disgruntled workers driving slowly to make a point.
To be told over a text message that you no longer have a job is no small matter. No letter. No face to face. How cold and callous is that? Not even a month’s notice… Don’t we all have bills to pay? Mouths to feed?
I feel for them, but can’t help but feel frustrated.
After exiting the car, I let out a small scream.
I’ve never heard you say, “I was speeding with the intent to kill.”
Instead, I often hear: “I’m so sorry. I was in a hurry, running late to an important meeting. I didn’t mean to hit your car. I didn’t mean it. My intentions were good…!”
Or, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I’m breaking up because I don’t find you attractive.”
Intentions are important, but they’re not everything.
Intentions don’t hurt people.
Actions hurt people.
What hurts more?
Doing nothing.
Saying something different from what’s on your mind.
I’ve been ‘homeless’ for three months. Not having one place to rest my aching bones. Wasting time packing up and unpacking. Not quite settled in. Forgetting my sneakers and missing a gym session. Forgetting flip flips at the gym showers (gross). Not knowing where my nail clippers are. A side project taking up space in my head. Not knowing where my things are! Being nudged to live minimally and to be honest, it’s been refreshing.
I have 3 sets of keys that’ll get me into
I have access to three houses. And access to two more.
It’s been inconvenient being ‘homeless.’ Yet I’m glad, because living with friends has been fun. Spending unplanned time. Cooking and eating together. Chilling and talking throughout the day. It’s been nice to have a nice person to come home to and say good morning when we first wake up.
I have access to three generous homes and kind-hearted friends.
I’m not ‘homeless.’
Some people make good decisions while the rest stagnate and stall out with the bad. What separates the best from the rest?
Before acting, the best ask ‘the why’ before answering ‘the what’ and ‘the how’
They are not people pleasers but expert expectation managers.
Everything they do, they do with integrity and transparency.
They distill relevant information to get to the what.
They escalate if necessary.
They understand the repercussions of their (in)decision.
They don’t shove decisions down people’s throats.
They greases the wheels so the cogs are able to turn on their own.
They do what is right.
They’re confident contrarians because nothing is more dangerous than group think.
They’re in for the long-term.