Softening the Edges of the Hard Stuff

“Water is the softest thing.
yet it can penetrate mountains and earth.
This clearly shows the principle of
softness overcoming hardness.”

— Laozi

I took myself away in February.

I left an environment that I know very well, and where my routines are well established.

I traveled alone and — it will be surprising to those of you who know me well — I spent great swaths of time being quiet.

I practiced self-care. I tried to maintain a balance between working and resting. My time away still was guided by goals, scheduled events, commitments, and responsibilities. Working remotely is a way of life that works anywhere in the world you choose. Or happen to be.

I relocated to find rest and clarity while catching up on many projects that require space and time.

My hope? To clear the decks and reconnect with myself and my working relationships.

I chose to travel outside of the US, to a place that was a visual feast for my eyes and all of my senses. I wanted to secure a fresher perspective. I do my best when I am surrounded by newness — a different climate, a different language, and different foods, sights, and sounds. Yet, I was in the same time zone, understanding the currency, and speaking enough of the language to communicate my respect.

My cell and laptop worked just the same. You might not have even noticed that I had relocated. If you follow me on Facebook, you saw glorious pictures of turquoise seas and beautiful plates of food.

I did, however, follow the daily news and weather.

I made friends along the way.

As we learned about each other, I shared my thoughts and stories in response to some of the new friends’ questions. The conversation focused on the years of the pandemic, our career lives, and on what is happening in the US Capitol now.

I was in this exact, same location in 2020 when COVID was moving through the world.

I arrived home just a month before we were locked in place and our lives were changed forever. I never dreamed that the pandemic that blurred the last four years of my life and reset the landscape of my working life would still be affecting us all. But I have come to accept the change and understand we aren’t returning to “the way it was.”

I am moving forward, redesigning my life and work life. I am responding to the continued changes we face. I spend time pondering my role, my contribution, and how I should spend my time.

In a new place — in conversation with people I am meeting for the first time — a metaphor came to the surface. (You know I like metaphors! They make the complex understandable and soften the edges of hard stuff.)

I watched the earthquakes of Mykonos, Greece on the news this week with concern.

I have often said that in the early stages of the pandemic, I observed cracks forming in the working relationships and working environments of my clients. Those cracks are now crevasses, showing up in organizations where the fabric of the culture, the values, the quality of the relationships, innovation, learning, mentorship — and so many other attributes of healthy, high-performance environments — risk falling into the void. Some of the casualties, sadly, are people.

This is not to say that hard work isn’t happening, it is.

Or, that we haven’t learned to be remote, hybrid, and flexible in our working structures. We have.

That good work isn’t occurring, it is.

But, I am observing and experiencing for myself a level of fatigue and stress unmatched in my years of working. The use of email is overwhelming. I have yet to see a conflict resolved or a misunderstanding healed via a Zoom call. Researchers are reporting the highest levels of disengagement and leadership/management exhaustion.

I believe that since the beginning of the pandemic — as with Mykonos — the tectonic plates of our lives have been set in motion. We are experiencing a perpetual earthquake that is escalating in intensity.

• Can you relate to this metaphor?

• Have you felt the tremors?

• Have you experienced the figurative ground moving beneath your feet?

• Has anything in your life been destroyed by this perpetual movement?

My metaphor uses a natural phenomenon. I want to acknowledge that real natural disasters are happening all around us. Whether metaphorically or in real life, there is a constant change, trauma, and concern.

I don’t write this to generate fear or pain but, to acknowledge what is happening. It helps me label it gently and allows me to begin questioning.

• What do I need to do?

• How can I contribute in a meaningful way?

• What do I need to change in the way I work and support others?

This earthquake isn’t ending. I have never experienced a challenge to my working life that has lasted this long and is still in motion.

Since the metaphorical ground beneath my feet is ever-shifting, I need to shift too. My mindset is positive, forward-looking, grateful, and concerned.

I am sorting.

Sorting myself out. Supporting individuals, groups, and organizations to sort, shift, survive, and thrive in the conditions.

I may not have many answers, yet. But I do have awareness, commitment, and renewed energy for finding the path.

• Want to journey along with me?

• Or do you need a Sherpa guide?