I hesitated a long time before starting this blog because I knew it would be a challenge to keep at it, even when my schedule got busy as it has these past few weeks. I knew I would just have to bear down, set my alarm for 5 am on some days, and just push myself to do it.

Pushing ourselves. This has to be one of the most interesting topics in my work with clients. When to push, when not to push. When is it injurious, even suicidal to push ourselves past limits, past fear and uncertainty, and when is it an act of courage, a needed force for change? On the one hand self-help advocates urge us to take it easy, to love ourselves, just as we are, and not only for what we do. On the other hand, we are urged to push past identities of smallness, to get out our comfort zones, and to go for our goals. How do we know which direction to take? There is no rule. Managing this inner use of power requires self-awareness.

In Deep Survival, a book exploring the psychological and biological reasons some people survive disasters and life-threatening situations, while others don’t, Laurence Gonzales writes, “the Rambo types are the first to go.” He quotes a Navy Seal commander that believing in your abilities too much can lead you to overestimate what you can do elsewhere. A certain respect for the conditions is necessary to calculate risk.

The problem with courage is that it is often used against weakness, fear or limits. We interpret difficult external conditions, or inner fear as an enemy to overcome. But courage is not fearlessness. The best warriors understand that fear is an important signal of danger, and only by listening to it do we know whether it means stop or proceed with caution. If we just push past fear, we can leave ourselves open to injury or death.

It takes just as much courage to retreat than it does to go forward. Courage can be used as a defense because we are afraid to admit defeat, shamed to fail, and hating weakness. This doesn’t take more than the most cursory reading of history to see how many follies, disasters, and collapses of empires resulted from a false sense of courage and fear of looking weak.

Sometimes courage is a suicidal impulse. When I facilitate groups, there is often someone who stands up, takes a deep breath, and says: “There’s something I have to say,” or, “This has to be said.” I cringe because I know what’s coming. Cops call it”suicide by cops:” someone kills themselves by provoking a lethal response. In groups or social settings, and increasingly on email, someone finally decides to put it all out there. “What the hell,” they think, “I’ve kept my mouth shut all this time, now I’m going to tell it like it is.”

I call this launching yourself over the edge – the force we need to get over our inhibition overshoots the mark, and we end up way out on a limb. We pump ourselves up, after having been passive too long, and blast through our inhibitions, going way past where we need to go. We do this because confuse the target of our actions with the inner inhibition we have lived with. In blasting past our inhibitions, we blast the other.

Similarly, we confuse doubts with inhibitions. We think doubts are just a sign we lack belief in ourselves. And popular psychology contributes to this by promoting self-esteem above self-reflection. While we can get past some doubts with encouragement, we can’t get past them all. This is because doubts are thoughts. Our thoughts. The thoughts we’re not identified with. We decide to go with one thought and not the others, so the unloved thought pesters us as a doubt. And the more we don’t love our thoughts, the more dissociated they become. At first they are just nagging doubts, next they come back in drag, clothed as someone else’s thoughts, “John thinks this is stupid.” This only fortifies us, and now, with an “enemy” to fight, we become even more intractable and one-sided, determined to go our own way, and prove ourselves right against naysayers. But decision making is strengthened by considering all the doubts. Bringing in all the possible problems, and truly considering them, makes robust decisions. It’s aikido – open up to the energy and force coming towards us and use it to go forward.

If we are to take the ecological crisis to heart, we have to consider sustainability as a psychological issue, not just an environmental one. What business calls the triple bottom line means factoring social, environmental and ethical factors into profits. For us, it means factoring in our psychological and physical health by having the courage to recognize limits – our own and that of others. Our bodies are like the canary in the coal mine: fear, hesitation and uncertainty are important signals that can help us create more sustainable leadership practices for ourselves and for the people we lead.

I don’t believe leadership is best served by the parallels drawn to war and sports. It doesn’t capture the sense of service and eldership at the heart of leadership. But I do see one reason why military and sports metaphors are so often used to describe leadership challenges. War and sport have in common the need to develop mental toughness, so what you learn can be done under terrific psychological and physical stress. For an athlete, learning what to do is only part of the preparation; learning to do it on game day is another. That’s the difference between just being athletic, and being a top competitor. The professional athlete’s training includes psychological toughness by simulating game day conditions: high stakes, bad calls, mean crowds, horrible weather, and ruthless opponents. Because every athlete and coach knows that once you cross a threshold of stress, learning and thinking goes out the window. If you get triggered by stress, choking is inevitable. (more…)

Photos taken of U.S. Presidents before and after their terms in office show what a huge toll that job takes on the body. In the four years between inauguration day and the end of term, Presidents often look like they’ve aged 10, not just 4 years.

It’s a grueling job, with a lot of pressure. What we see on the outside is only the tip of the iceberg. Many of us, while not quite as high profile, are in leadership positions that put a terrible strain on mind and body. What happens to the body and mind under the weight of public pressure and tensions of leadership? What toll does public attack and humiliation take on the mind and emotions? What about our energy and drive, after plans and ambitions are torpedoed by opposition, sunk by the weight of inaction, or stalled by endless rounds of skeptical questioning? (more…)