Getting Organized, Part I

Nearly two years from my last leadership role, I am still muddling through the beginning of my next chapter.

Normally, my current state would create a boatload of anxiety, fear, and insecurity about the future. Not the least bit surprising and unsettling every time. And if past is prologue, I will fall back on my go-to move. Getting organized right quick.

Far too often and with mixed results, I would assert more control on my everyday life to dampen my feelings of discomfort and self-doubt. At work I would seek short-term relief by focusing on deliverables, logistics, meetings, and projects. And at home there is always something–or more important, someone–that needs attention. Each and every task then becomes a welcomed distraction from my feelings de jour.

Most New Englanders might get a whiff of the Protestant work ethic in my narrative here. After all, hard work and sacrifice are wholesome and necessary ingredients to advance common good in community. So too is efficiency and frugality. But what if my story is nothing more than hubris in disguise? What if I am simply pursuing my own needs under the invisibility cloak of self-righteousness? I would not be the first leader to fall under its beguiling spell. I too can rationalize with the best of them. And then there is that voice inside my head that often whispers my words and actions are virtuous and my motives are beyond reproach.

Now and with a hint of maturity and wisdom, I confess that my go-to move is not aging well. For starters, it requires a sizable investment of energy every day which only increases my risk of exhaustion and poor judgment. Next, my response is physically unsustainable because it generates elevated stress levels over time that harm my health and well-being. And then there is the third strike and the one with the greatest personal cost. Its toll on my relationships. Time after time my overreliance on getting organized creates unnecessary distance and weakens vital connections with those who love and support me. Even with this awareness I am still drawn to it like a moth to the flame.

Suffice it to say that my go-to move is in dire need of an overhaul. The case for personal growth and change is compelling and gaining momentum. On the horizon lies a pilgrimage with a yet-to-be destination. By now my emotional state should be screaming for my go-to move. Queue the soundtrack for more cowbell, control, and influence.

Yet for the first time in many years, I am at peace with the overall direction and pace of my life. I am not running towards something in pursuit of personal or professional accomplishment nor chasing a bright, shiny object to fill an unspoken need. There is no major strategic goal, new program or facility, or professional pursuit in the works. Instead, in their place lies the precious gifts of time and space to ask important questions about what I want to do with the time I have on the planet.

A newfound freedom lights my night’s sky. I have the luxury of time and space to explore parts of me that took a back seat for many years to family commitments and professional obligations. Candidly, it feels a little too woo-woo for my New England sensibilities. And I still have no earthly idea what will replace my go-to move of getting organized. But for the second time in my adult life, I will create space and see what happens next. No agenda, no pre-determined outcome, and hopefully no self-delusion. Just time to be still and know.

Maybe my replacement gig finds me on its own schedule and emerges quietly and without fanfare. Or maybe it reveals itself during one of my conversations with community leaders or clients. Or maybe nothing surfaces at all. The only certainty is that I will learn more about myself and that will prepare me for whatever lies ahead.

Nearly two years wandering in the wilderness, I am slowly finding my footing with the help of my trusted traveling companions–authenticity and intentionality. Each day I try to stay open and live in the moment, but this does not come naturally to me. And through it all, one life lesson resonates something fierce in me. Starting a new or next chapter can be downright scary no matter what stage of life we are living through. It takes time, planning, action, and most of all self-reflection. It requires the love and support of family, friends, and colleagues to counteract our self-criticism and self-doubt. And it means giving up some control or influence over our daily lives—something that can be counterintuitive and extremely difficult for many leaders.

To all those who are beginning a new chapter or seeking a fresh start in 2024, I offer the following questions for personal reflection:

• What is my primary motive for change? And why now at this point in my life?
• Who most directly benefits from this change? And why?
• What am I willing to let go of or sacrifice to create the time and space for such change?
• Who will I rely on to help me process my doubts, fears, and insecurities that will inevitably surface along the way?
• And how exactly will I determine when my pilgrimage is complete?

I too am exploring these questions as I begin anew in 2024. This year I will serving as an interim Executive Director at a local nonprofit organization. Please know that I look forward to traveling with and learning from you in the days and weeks ahead.

Buena suerte y buen viaje!