There have been a few pivotal moments in my career in which, when faced with what seemed like an insurmountable challenge, I mustered up the courage to do something absolutely... audacious. (I know that word gets a bad rap, and I'm proudly here to reclaim it.)
One memory that always stands out in my mind was an interview for a university position in public management. The school provided me with a list of topics I could lecture on. After reviewing it, I made the decision I was going to "hulk up" and go rogue.
Why the decision to rebel? First of all, I wasn't interviewing in my field (in fact, I had never worked with city government, law enforcement, etc.), so I knew I couldn't wow them with my industry knowledge. Second of all, my skillset wasn't particularly aligned with any of their existing topics. What I knew I could teach, however, was continuous performance improvement. As a hospital leader, Lean had shaped the way I thought and worked, and I had a strong suspicion that my passion would be contagious.
After researching more about challenges in the public sector, I could see how this expertise would directly aid leaders who were constantly being asked to do more with less. So, I took the approach of "high risk, high reward." I told the university I would be speaking on accountability, I instead gave a pitch on continuous performance improvement, and I walked out of the interview with the opportunity to develop a new branch of programming for the center. This position became one of the most rewarding in my career.
I've been reflecting on those moments when I decided to seriously hulk up, including how I brought myself to do it. I think the biggest thing in common between all of the hulk preparation processes was simply this: visualization of the highest degree of success.
If I end up accomplishing something really noteworthy one day and get asked one of those "did you ever dream you'd be here receiving an XYZ award?" questions, I'm going to have to answer that honestly yes, I did dream of that exact moment, many times over. At that point, I'll probably be flagged with some sort of personality disorder, but hear me out:
You can envision yourself accomplishing amazing things and still practice non-attachment to the outcome. (Yes, I'm back on the non-attachment train for a second...)
Visualizing success doesn't mean I fully believe it's going to happen, nor does it mean I feel entitled to it in any way. Instead, it's essentially the story I tell myself about what's possible in an upcoming scenario. If I had chosen instead to play back a story in my mind that what I was about to do was destined to flop, I can guarantee that energy would've been felt by the room, and the outcome may have been completely different. But because I had prepared myself for a positive response, I stood tall, spoke with enthusiasm, and responded to questions with openness and optimism.
Sure, there was a very real chance that my approach would be ill-received; on the flip side, I knew that if it went well, I'd hit a professional high point that could propel my career in a new direction.
(Also, for whatever it's worth, flops are just bound to happen sometimes, especially when you're trying something new or innovative. As I often tell trainees, if you don't fail, you don't learn anything new about the system. [See my very short-lived American Ninja Warrior course test run.])
So, the next time you find yourself needing to hulk up, you might consider a quick review of your internal mixed tape to see what songs are playing. I'm not telling you what to put on (you're the DJ), but just make it something good.
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