Anger. Frustration. Laughter. Depression. Cynicism. Hope.
And that was just the last twenty minutes. Stay with me here, because I want to get real. This pandemic has forced us to play a new game, and we’re still making up the rules, figuring out the proper uniform, and trying to discern what type of game it is we’re playing exactly.
Many of us find ourselves asking questions such as:
- Is this new game a sport, a dance competition, or might it involve dice?
- Do we learn plays, steps, or moves?
- Who are we competing against? Really?
- Who’s on my team? Are you sure?!
- Do we break it into quarters, halves, matches, turns, or moments?
- How much of winning depends on strategy versus chance?
- Who calls the fouls and what makes for a penalty?
- Should our shirts be solid for Zoom or made of flannel for comfort?
Most days I’m all in, ready to tackle any of the above, but this past Sunday I simultaneously felt waves of distracted frustration with rushes of energy I didn’t know where or how to channel. Scott beautifully summed it up when he said, “You’re a bee stuck in a jar.” He was right. I was buzzin’ every which way with no clear direction, but with a whole lot of annoyance.
Can you relate?
Initially, we were all so busy adjusting, adapting, adrenaline rushing, toilet paper searching, PPP or unemployment applying, and #pivoting that our survival instincts kicked in and we took action. We were helping clients, colleagues, family members [or all 3] navigate choppy waters while simultaneously searching for another oar in our own boat.
And that’s just COVID. That’s not even the senseless loss and tragedy of the soul of George Floyd, the protests and violent counter-responses, the long-overdue conversations about unacceptable yet still pervasive systemic racism, and the need to learn and unlearn so much about what is actually happening to people around the globe.
And here we are now, still saying goodbye to numerous lives while not being able to squeeze their hands in their final moments of life. We’re mourning a beloved civil rights leader while hearing about more rights being threatened. We’re seeing friends and family members lose their livelihoods, while hoods are being taken over by unidentified watchmen.
It’s understandable to have days where we feel like we’re spinning a bit. And we need to stay in the game.
If you’re spinning out, feeling unmoored, or thinking about your five o’clock cocktail at noon, I get it. There’s a lot to absorb. There’s a lot to process. There’s a lot to take action on to move you, one another, and our world forward and better.
None of it can be done well nor done with love from a place of aimless, agitated buzzin’ and spinnin’.
None of it can be done if you opt-out and refuse to stay in the game.
But you can sit on the bench for a moment and refuel. And I highly encourage it. While you’re giving yourself a needed timeout, ask:
What’s one thing [not two, not five, not eleven] I can do to be physically fueled, emotionally connected, mentally focused, or spiritually aligned today?
And then do that one thing. If you need a moment to refuel, reconnect, get re-focused or re-align, please put yourself on the bench. It’s not punishment. It’s smart.
As this game continues to morph and evolve, one of the very best things to keep you engaged [so you can continue to be the awesome, positively impacting leader you are] is to take care of you, the player.
So what did I do last Sunday? I asked myself, What’s one thing I can do to be physically fueled, emotionally connected, mentally focused, or spiritually aligned today? And I did it. I put myself on “the bench” so I could refuel.
Cyber safe hugs,