How slow can you go?

Dear Humanity,

I feel stuck. Our team has worked hard over the years to cultivate a peaceful, serene, and loving environment in our retail stores. Our customers walk in the door and say it feels like a spa, and they love the energy in the place. Unfortunately, our behind-the-scenes workplace has also become slow, peaceful and serene. Normally this is a good thing, right? Except I find we’ve moved from chaotic and frenzied to a state of relaxation and serenity. People move in a dream-like, laid-back state. How do I strike a balance between peace, and a healthy urgency? How do I lovingly coach hustle without creating stress? The more laid-back and slowly people perform their daily tasks, the more I feel myself feeling frenzied because I see the payroll dollar signs ticking up ever more quickly. Help!

Signed, Fast Feet, Warm Heart

Dear Fast Feet, Warm Heart,

When I read your question what I hear is a belief that you can’t be simultaneously productive and serene. It’s easy to think maximum effort produces maximum results, especially because our culture tends to glorify busyness. I can see those ostensibly motivational memes now.?

Rise and grind! No pain, no gain!?

While there are times hustling might be helpful—like if a bear is chasing you for example—I’d offer that hustle is neither sustainable nor the best way to create the results you want. I say that as a scientist who used to work in human performance augmentation, but also from personal experience.

As a kid, I knew I had a pretty narrow path to the life I wanted. My Dad’s life and career had fallen apart, so he chose to live vicariously through me—and there was a lot he wanted me to accomplish. His methods were all stick, no carrot. If I succeeded, he bought me a jar of maraschino cherries. If I didn’t, he threatened to withhold money for college.?

I applied to exactly three colleges, all military academies, so he wouldn’t have financial leverage over my decision making. But once I got accepted to and graduated from the Air Force Academy, that sense of urgency didn’t go away. By that point it had become second nature. I convinced the military to let me get a Masters degree and then a Ph.D. I became one of those people who, when friends asked how I was doing, brightly replied, “Busy!” And from the outside, everything looked great, enviable even.

One night, my husband and I were lying in bed, talking about the week ahead. There was a big award that was about to be announced at work and I had this sinking feeling I wasn’t going to get it. I sobbed into his shoulder, explaining that I had to win it because I’d worked so hard.

When I look back now, I see I was crying from exhaustion as much as a sense of loss. And the more tired I became, the less intrinsic motivation I could muster, which meant I had to increase that sense of urgency just to stay at the same place.

I wish I could tell you that I felt a bolt of insight in that moment, that I saw clearly how much my internal nagging was costing me.?

But I did win that award. And I did not slow down.

I thought: how could I argue with success??

Besides, I told myself, I was handling it. I was sure I could slow down as soon as I hit my next goal. In the meantime, my lovely husband and daughter got the worst of me instead of my best. I had a string of disappointed friends who told me, “I always thought we’d be closer.”?

I was anxious all the time. I mean, that’s where the hustle comes from.

You don't hustle because it's fun, you hustle because you're afraid. I started to notice how I used fear to squeeze a little more out of myself, the bar getting higher and higher over time.?

Fast Feet, Warm Heart, maybe you’ve already realized what it took me decades to learn: I had essentially re-created the fear and anxiety of my childhood and I was not better for it. Not emotionally better, and not better in any of my roles as entrepreneur, mother, wife, or friend. I made the mistake of thinking my success was the result of my drive, but I was actually delivering subpar performance across the board.

I’m sure your story doesn’t sound anything like mine.?

But whatever got you to this moment, it sounds like you might be as afraid of slowing down as I was. One of the things that struck me when I read your question was that your concern seemed to be based entirely on feelings. I didn’t get the sense your business was any less successful, there was just an anxious voice inside you that told you this lovely atmosphere you’ve worked so hard to create, that your customers love, must be a problem if also adopted by your employees.?

The answer is to coach for performance, not hustle.?

My suggestion in the short term is to focus on a few objective measures of success. Are your customers complaining or happy? Are you hitting your revenue and profit targets? Have a short list of the top 3-5 metrics that tells the story of how the business is doing.?

The staff needs to know what these metrics are, how their efforts contribute to those metrics, and regular feedback on how things are trending. You will need these metrics as a reminder that things aren’t as bad as they feel.?

And if the metrics aren’t where they need to be? That’s a great opportunity to coach your team as they troubleshoot and problem solve. Just remember that coaching isn’t about solving the problem for them or giving them advice. You’re creating a safe space for them to experiment, reflect, learn, and grow.

When that feels uncomfortable, and it will, probably often, remind yourself how hard you’ve worked to get to this place of collective serenity. That’s not easy. Plenty of businesses try and fail at exactly what you’ve already accomplished. Relish it!

The truth is, stress and anxiety are like those self-absorbed, popular kids who show up to the party already drunk, tell jokes at everyone’s expense, complain about the food, and then urinate on the lawn on their way out.

Then they deny ever doing it.?

I promise you: you don’t need them.

Don’t get me wrong. Stress and anxiety still show up at my psychological door on the regular, uninvited.?

But on my best days, when I know I really need to bring my A game, I know better than to let them in.