Oh man, did I mess that up.

I’m a quick decision maker, and a lot of the time, that serves me very well.

As someone with an entrepreneurial mindset, I have a real bias for action and decisions. In my business, I can change things on a dime, and I do all the time. I experiment and see what’s working and what’s working less well. And I love that I get to do that!

But…not every organization is like that.

And I was recently reminded of that the hard way.

Since September, I’ve been president-elect of the Alumni Association board at Carnegie Mellon. In this role, I’m committee chair for one of the board’s committees—a committee I’ve never served on before.

At our first meeting in the fall, I walked into the room with some ideas about changes that would benefit the committee. I had spoken with senior members of the board and thought I had some really solid and necessary ideas.

So yeah…I walked in guns a’blazin’. < pew pew! >

But remember, I didn’t know any of the people on the committee well. I also didn’t know the inner workings of how the committee functions because I’ve never even audited a meeting.

But still, because of how?I?operate, I was hopeful the committee would make quick decisions about the processes that, in my mind, were really not working. I laid out the options as I saw them and advocated for a decision that day.

Spoiler alert…this did not go well.

The committee comprises?extremely?accomplished people, mostly scientists. And they had a totally different approach than I did. I’ll be honest, they really put me in my place.

Because they weren’t even convinced that what I saw as a “problem” WAS a problem. And they didn’t want to make decisions without doing some heavy evaluation of the situation.

My bias for action and their bias for research and analysis really went head to head here. It was a clear conflict—one that I should have seen coming.

This meeting was such a clear example of me needing to flex my communication style to match theirs—something I talk to my Presence Studio cohorts about?constantly.

My tendency towards quick decisions isn’t better or worse than this group’s tendency towards analysis, but my approach simply did not mesh with the experience and energy of the room.

If I could go back in time, here’s how I would flex to meet the moment:

I would remember my audience and pivot accordingly.?This was a room full of Carnegie Mellon science nerds (“nerds” said with respect and love!), not small biz solopreneurs like me.

I would also be more cognizant of the variables that made me pretty hyped up during the meeting, like the fact that we were behind on time.?And, I was?itching?to get something done during my first meeting as committee chair. My adrenaline was going and I wish I had realized how much that was affecting my presence and approach.

I would also take a minute to remind myself that a nonprofit board is a whole different animal.?It’s not a task force for a corporation. It’s not small business ownership. Yes, people want to make progress and get things done, but everyone on the board is a volunteer, and things tend to move a bit more slowly than they do in the corporate world.

And I would listen more and talk less.?If I had listened more, I would have more quickly grasped the wealth of analytical experience in this group, and I would have known how to flex towards them…instead of, you know, making?kiiiiiiind?of an ass of myself.

Now that I’m going at the committee’s pace versus my own, everyone is more invested. And while things are definitely taking longer than?I?personally would like, that doesn’t matter. Because we’ve been able to get a lot more creative and our solutions are better.

That’s the power of flexing.?Take it from me—it’s not always easy, and if you don’t spot?when?you need to do it, you’ll quickly find out. That may result in an uncomfortable learning experience, yes, but those experiences are also reminders of how powerful presence skills can be. We all need that reminder sometimes, including me!