It's the midpoint of the year. Which in corporate America is an inflection point. A time to rally your troops, motivate your stakeholders, and build confidence in your shareholders that momentum will continue, no build. That domination is inevitable.
In Daniel Pink's Masterclass he talks about timing, and the importance of the middle. He talks about basketball teams who are down by one point at half time. Statistically speaking, they are more likely to win the game.
Why?
Because they galvanize around the midpoint; they reflect, knowing they need to catch up, then they carefully run the plan and the plays over the remaining minutes of the game to come out on top. I'm no basketball player, but I've been using the analogy. It's midway through the year, we are here, where are you, what opportunities do you have, how are you adjusting your goals, how are you going to show up to win. win. win.
I sell hamburgers for a living, but the philosophy is transferable.
While I dish out feedback and inspirational words of wisdom, I end up on the receiving end of perspective as well. Superiors, peers, and even family members tend to weigh in during my mid-year check in.
The positives are never that surprising. They are trending strengths I've utilized my entire career to get to where I am. But boss to boss, the negatives vary. In a new role, in a new function, with yet another new boss, I crossed my fingers that my defined for me opportunities were familiar coaching points far from uncharted territory.
On Friday, my mid-year review was delivered to me with mostly predictable content. I nodded and accepted, realizing just how momentous this check in actually was, given the role and risk I had taken on. But then there was an area of gray in my opportunity set. Huh. I spent some time marinating on it and am in fact still marinating 48 hours later. The feedback came from my boss and then was reinforced by my family later in the day.
Boss: Delegate work better so you are not so stretched.
Me: Hmmm.
Margaret later in the day: I wish you had a Mommy job.
Me: What does that mean?
Also Margaret later in the day: Your job needs to be us.
Me: But what about all the people that I help at work?
She jumped in the pool after that, leaving the deeper meaning of this rich feedback to me.
As I've studied and applied Leadership techniques, one of my favorites is framing a most valuable problem to solve with a narrative baked in analogous material that brings additional dimension and emotion to the job of seeking resolution.
In London a couple months ago, my week-long enterprise leadership education was saturated in metaphor. We painted on water, explored a museum not to observe the artifacts but the gallery walkers, listened to a string quartet, had dinner at Shakespeare's Globe theater, laid out ropes and argued on either side of them, and took off our shoes and tried to run a business barefoot. Through these sessions, I learned that true partnership creates something more beautiful, there is inspiration in the most unusual places, leaderless teams play in perfect harmony, it's my role to shape culture and elevate talent, and when you argue against the aptitude of 24 people representing different functions and markets in a big global brand, you find the value in the other side of the aisle of the most contentious topics.
Inspired by the curriculum in London, I've been reading more and reflecting on the intersections between the learned and lived experiences.
I've been through Row the Boat, Unreasonable Hospitality and the Culture Code. I've underlined and applied, but nothing had quite the right metaphor for the intersection of professional and personal advice I received this week. So, I went a different route - to an unsuspected genre of literature. Children's books. Yesterday, I pulled out one of my favorite books from childhood and read it to the twins before nap time. It's called the Country Bunny and the Little Gold Shoes. Growing up, I liked it for the pastel pictures. And I recalled the part about the Country Bunny training her 21 children to do all the chores in the house, including politely pulling out the mommy Bunny's chair at dinner. Brilliant.
The story goes like this. There was a Country Bunny who wanted to be one of the five Easter Rabbits when she grew up. Yes, there are five, not one. To do that, she would need to be the kindest, wisest, and swiftest rabbit in the world. But then she got married and had 21 baby bunnies. [Favorite part.] Who she paired up to do the cleaning, cooking, sewing, gardening, and even music making to keep everyone happy around the household. When the time came that an Easter Bunny retired, she and her family went to the palace of Easter Eggs to try out. Grandfather Bunny, the selector of talent, saw that she was wise to have all her kids helping around the house, she was kind to have a house that was so merry, and she was super swift because she had to keep up with her kids. Damn, Grandfather Bunny thought, I need that bunny. But he lamented. 'I wish you could be my newest Easter Bunny, but you will have to stay home to take care of your kids.' She cunningly replied, 'my kids can take better care of our home than I can.' She was hired. She got some gold shoes. And became the best Easter Bunny around.
Legendary.
And back to my feedback. Delegate more, do a Mommy job, stay at home. It's the midpoint of the year, do better.
Last night, Mary made chicken pot pies for dinner. Salad on the side. Afterward, she helped me get the twins bathed and dressed for bed, read to them and sang them songs, tickling Jacqueline's back as I tickled Caroline's. This morning, I went upstairs and my three oldest were cleaning their rooms up showing me different things they had made or discovered during another week where I was mostly away. It's not just the kids, Peter has come to my rescue doing just about everything around the house this year. Perhaps challenging Margaret's understanding of the roles parents play. Which is good. Why shouldn't mommy rabbits get to be the Easter Bunny?
Directed or not, the housework has been delegated. And the kids have grown, matured, and become pretty amazing citizens of the world because of it. Yes, taking a step away from being in the trenches of the household day to day has been uncomfortable for me and the family, and it's probably made things a little harder at times, but we are learning and growing through it, shooting for a country den as clean, cared for and happy as the Country Bunny's.
Now could I delegate more at work? Sure. And that is something I will take to heart. But the stretched thin thing ... I just don't know. Because I am stretched thin. Period. While I can push stuff off, polish my frazzles, create a calendar that gives me breathing room, and outsource as much as possible, having a big job and five kids is a stretch. But it's not impossible. And perhaps, perhaps, showing up a little late, slightly askew, a little apologetic, gives other working parents the permission they need to dream a little bigger. There is humanity, vulnerability, and ultimately empathy in a working mom who is stretched thin. And as I take on the second half of the year, as a likely underdog, in a bigger role than I could have ever dreamed of, I'm taking into account the well-timed feedback, adjusting my goals, and showing up for others at home and at work in a way that breeds true partnership in our common mission.
And maybe buying a pair of gold shoes to remember that if the Country Bunny can do it, so can I.
Lo.
