It’s not about the Roar

Lion roaring, sitting, Panthera Leo, 10 years old, isolated on white
Originally published December 3, 2014

I have a plaque hanging over my desk that reads, “Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow’. “

 I have lost count of the number of times that sentiment has given me comfort at the end of a particularly challenging day. Sometimes, leadership is about two steps forward and one step back. It’s about continuing to push on the flywheel, even when you don’t see any progress, because you know it is cumulative efforts that get things rolling. It’s about persisting in putting one foot in front of the other, even when the path is covered in fog. Courageous is not usually the word we think of to describe ourselves in such situations, but maybe it should be…

How many opportunities are lost because we don’t have the perseverance, the courage, to push on through the difficulties, setbacks, and disappointments? Or the courage to step out into the unknown, even though such a move could advance your mission? How many times is it dogged (courageous) determination, rather than singular pronouncements, that make the difference in achieving the win?

In some respects, roaring courage is “easier”. That courage we call on at a moment of crisis, or when we draw a line in the sand. Those moments when we have to act — when people look to us to roar — do take courage, but in many cases, the situation is forcing our hand. Not so with quiet courage. Quiet courage is about making the hard decisions even when it is likely that no one will notice. Quiet courage is about continuing through the challenges in your pursuit of a goal because it is too important to stop short. Quiet courage comes from that small, still, voice inside that won’t settle for less.

Most leaders will have to display roaring courage from time to time, but it is episodic. You make a roaringly courageous decision, and then do your best to get back to business as usual as soon as possible. Quiet courage is more of a characteristic, it’s how you approach your leadership responsibilities — or at least try to — day in and day out.

Quiet courage may be overlooked or mislabeled, but make no mistake, it is courage …

… After all, it’s not about the roar.

It’s not about the Roar

Lion roaring, sitting, Panthera Leo, 10 years old, isolated on whiteI have a plaque hanging over my desk that reads, “Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quite voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow’. “

I have lost count of the number of times that sentiment has given me comfort at the end of a particularly challenging day. Sometimes, leadership is about two steps forward and one step back. It’s about continuing to push on the fly-wheel, even when you don’t see any progress, because you know it is cumulative efforts that get things rolling. It’s about persisting in putting one foot in front of the other, even when the path is covered in fog. Courageous is not usually the word we think of to describe ourselves in such situations, but maybe it should be ….

How many opportunities are lost because we don’t have the perseverance, the courage, to push on through the difficulties, setbacks and disappointments? Or the courage to step out into the unknown, even though such a move could advance your mission? How many times is it dogged (courageous) determination, rather than singular pronouncements, the make the difference in achieving the win.

In some respects, roaring courage is “easier”. That courage we call on at a moment of crisis, or when we draw a line in the sand. Those moments when we have to act — when people look to us to roar — do take courage, but in many cases, the situation is forcing our hand. Not so with quiet courage. Quiet courage is about making the hard decisions even when it is likely that no one will notice. Quiet courage is about continuing through the challenges in your pursuit of a goal because it is too important to stop short. Quiet courage comes from that small, still voice inside that won’t settle for less.

Most leaders will have to display roaring courage from time to time, but it is episodic. You make a roaringly courageous decision, and then do your best to get back to business as usual as soon as possible. Quiet courage is more of a characteristic, it’s how you approach your leadership responsibilities — or at least try to — day in and day out.

Quiet courage may be overlooked or mislabeled, but make no mistake, it is courage …

… After all, it’s not about the roar.

Fallow Seasons

Fallow Field

As an old farm girl, I know that sometimes it is best to plow a field but leave it unsown for a season to allow the soil to regain its fertility. I have also observed that sometimes fallow periods are necessary for leaders — a time to resist planting new things to better prepare for what is to come. That sounds like a good thing, right? Well, it may sound that way, but for me (and I’m guessing most Type A leaders), when I’m in the midst of it, I hate the fallow season.

Fallow seasons aren’t like a retreat or sabbatical, where I consciously choose to step back and gain perspective. No, for me, the fallow seasons have a mind of their own. My typically strategic decision-making gets bogged down in gray fog, with no clear path forward. I feel like I’m spinning my wheels . . . and trying to force my way forward only drains my energy level. During these phases, working harder at resolving whatever issue I’m grappling with doesn’t’ help (trust me, I’ve tried). But I’ve also been doing this long enough to recognize that some of the greatest successes come when you finally break through to the other side of the fallow season.

Call it 40 days in the wilderness, exploring the shadow side of opportunities, or your subconscious jerking your chain, I have not found a way around occasionally getting stuck in the middle of a fallow season. Nor have I found a way to gracefully move through it. For me, it is a matter of perseverance and running out numerous scenarios, sometimes without even knowing what I’m moving toward on the other side. Although most leaders don’t talk about their fallow seasons, I find it hard to believe that I’m the only one who experiences them.

So if you find yourself stuck in the middle of a fallow period, how do you get to the other side? For me, in part, it’s a matter of recognizing that it’s not about me, but it’s up to me. The fallow seasons force me to seek God’s guidance, process far-flung options with my team, and search out additional perspectives from my colleagues or experts in the field. I mean seriously, heaven help us if I have all the good ideas! But no matter how much input I get from others, at some point as the leader, I have to make a decision. In most cases, after wading through the bogs of the fallow season, I am able to make a decision from a place that I never would have come to without the challenges of journey.

Maybe you’ve found a way to avoid the fallow seasons, but in case you haven’t, follow your instincts, trust your gut, and just keep putting one foot in front of the other. . . . the harvest is bountiful when you get to the other side.