An experience I once had on a road trip was a stark reminder that even with expertise, life can throw unexpected turns at you.
By my early 30s, I was an experienced driver and quite confident on the road, but on one particular night, the road held a hidden challenge. I was on the way back from California where I'd picked up precious cargo - my sister. The road looked clear, but suddenly my tires hit a pothole. What I didn't realize is that I'd driven onto a patch of black ice, and the pothole we'd hit was actually a break in the ice. You see, I had no experience with the potential aftermath of snowstorms, and a monster of a storm had passed over the area we were in the day before. That divot in the road was enough to break traction and the illusion of control I had. In a matter of seconds, my back wheels lost traction, and the vehicle slipped into a spin, rotating like a top before careening into the median. Thanks only to blind chance, there were no other cars on the road, no other hazards, and we were okay. But I was shaken. My thoughts flickered between the responsibility I had to my sister beside me and my complete lack of awareness. How had I been so completely clueless? I was thankful that we were alive, but the thought of what could have been was haunting. That day served as a humbling reminder: no matter our expertise or how well we think we know a path, life will forever challenge our expertise.
Whether you're a business owner or an employee, a Director or a PA, manager or team member, life will continue to expose our weaknesses. It may be an unexpected technical issue that arises with equipment on set, or unique obstacle that reveals itself when discussing creative decisions with clients or collaborators. Perhaps, while up against deadlines, certain choices don't seem to be yield the results you need. When we do experience a loss of traction, we have a choice to make. We could panic. We could blame. We could attempt to leverage the same mindset or thinking that led us to where we are, determined to affirm the "rightness" of our path. The pressure to find a fast solution can be overwhelming, and admitting that you don't have the answer can feel like a sign of weakness or incompetence.
The Pressure to "Get it Right"
The truth is that there will be times, in every adventure, when we chance upon new terrain. We will stumble, trip, and occasionally even face-plant. It's been that way for us since the beginning. When we were babies, we were champs at bawling our eyes out but absolute novices at almost everything else. Crawling? Maybe. Walking? Nope. But there's beauty in a baby's attempts at walking; one set of small outstretched arms reaching for another. Fast forward to adulthood, however, and suddenly fear of failure sometimes morphs us into obsessive perfectionists. Imagine babies with diva-sized egos. A topple would lead to a meltdown and a vow to never walk again. We can learn from their petite pride, which allows endless tries, tumbles, and remarkable successes.
To be fair, a tumble is rarely fun, and we'd all agree that it is better to understand the rules of the trail. When we do, we're able to move through it with greater ease, charting a secure route for ourselves and winning the admiration of our fellow travelers. Who doesn't appreciate a sense of stability and control, that respect? From the moment we step into the schoolyard to our final days in the corporate world, there's constant pressure to "get it right!" But insert the reality of an ever-evolving landscape driven by a fast-paced world, and you have a recipe for road hazards. Inevitably there will be times when we think we're on the right route, when we have actually stumbled upon treacherous terrain.
However, when you consider what it takes to reach your destination safely, is success about doggedly sticking to a direction, or is it about learning the path and how to adapt to the conditions on it?
On that icy night after the accident, I drove very slowly and deliberately, and still, the road insisted on gifting me a few more reminders of my ineptitude. I'll spare you that story. What I will say is that I stopped at the first motel I could find. It was a good thing, too, because when we finally took to the highway the following day, the shoulder was littered for miles with capsized cars and semi-trucks, the ice, in places, still as thick as a brick.
Owning Up
In navigating the unforeseen potholes, detours, and fender benders of life, there's an invaluable tool: The Genuine Apology. When we hit a patch of ice, admitting our slip-ups and apologizing isn't just good etiquette; it's the first step in recommitting to a successful journey. It's about admitting both to ourselves and the others that count on us that we missed something important, learned something new, and are resolved to move forward in a better way. It gives the people we support and lead peace of mind because it affirms that we are committed to doing better.
Let's be honest, we don't always see things this way. Admitting missteps is hard. In fact, admitting a mistake can sometimes be as hard as the consequences of our misstep are large. And culture can make it even more difficult if we and the people around us are trained to see apologies as admissions, not just of ignorance, but of a fatal character flaw. Who doesn't want to feel worthy, valuable, and esteemed? If having the answers makes one esteemed, one must always have an answer, right? That same culture may push us into the belief that having the only answer is what makes one valuable. But, given the truths above, what a precarious position we would put ourselves in if we cultivated such an attitude.
From A Fellow Bumbler to Learners Everywhere
Finding our way out of that mindset is difficult to parse, but what I can say is that both professionally and personally, I've discovered the profound value of surrounding myself with people who wear the title of a "Learner" like a badge of honor. People who identify as "Learners" bring invaluable perspectives. They ask questions readily, and because they do, they're fonts of wisdom themselves. They not only admit when they're in the dark about something, but they recognize that they are always missing something. Their awareness of that fact doesn't paralyze them. Instead, it's motivation for them to keep seeking, asking, and growing, and they're excited to expand their perspective with you.
This growth mindset is a game-changer whether one is a seasoned Producer or an eager intern. It's one that great leaders cultivate in the spaces they curate. Spaces where each voice, every idea, and even clumsy missteps are valued. In these spaces, diverse ideas thrive, and amazing things happen because the most powerful achievements emerge when many minds and hands can contribute to a task, with humility but without apprehension. This nurturing of mutual respect and trust - that's the secret to shared success.
So, the next time you find yourself in unfamiliar territory, maybe ask for directions. But, even in "familiar territory," why not consult? After all, you never know what you're missing. You never will. And what if you spin out, maybe even taking someone with you? Do yourself and your fellow travelers a solid - apologize. Whatever the case, pin on that Learner's badge. After all, we're all just trying to make our way down this road of life.