A Wellspring of Leadership When Nobody is Coming

Thank you for subscribing to Mann on a Mission newsletter, which I write for servant leaders just like you, every month. My mission is to address the Churn of Disconnection that's tearing us apart, propose best practices for bridging that Churn, and ways to get big sh*t done when nobody else is coming.

What tracks are you leaving?

I think this is the most important question any of us can ask in these crazy times. It's a topic I dive into deeply in my new book, Nobody is Coming to Save You. But, I'd like to get into this before the book even comes out.

What tracks are you leaving? It's a question my Dad, Rex Mann, has been asking himself and me for decades. My Dad is a woodsman. He grew up in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina and then went on to spend 42 years in the U.S. Forest Service. He fought big wildland fires all over the country. He mentored hundreds of fire fighters. He raised kids and grandkids. He led his community. Through all of it, he focused on leaving his tracks.

He used to take my brother, Travis, and me into the woods for character building talks and he'd point out tracks in the earth. "You see that boys," he'd say in his gentle, country tone as he pointed at a set of animal tracks, "I don't care what you do or where you live...you make sure you leave your tracks in this world. You hear me?" We'd say, "Yes sir", and then roll our eyes and move on with him. Typical teenagers. But now, all these years later, I'm more aware of tracks than ever before. They are everything to me.

Now, as my dad fights cancer for the third time in a life and death struggle, his tracks are at the epicenter of everything he does and talks about. He wasn't talking about actual tracks in those walks in the woods, he was talking about those indelible impressions that each of us can leave in the earth. They are actions that don't necessarily serve the people around us right now, but those who follow us. Tracks are a metaphor for our legacy.

And as meaning-assigning creatures, it makes a lot of sense. We seek and assign meaning to everything we do.

At a time when the disengagement scores of employees, associates, and managers are hovering around 85%, we need people leaving their tracks more than ever. Tracks, in my assessment, are the North Star of our life's journey. They are the wellspring of leadership and a life well-lived because they lead us to clarity in times of chaos. People follow clarity. We feel safe and connected to leaders who are clear. Think about the leaders from your past - teachers, parents, coaches - those handful of people you would run through walls for, who you would follow to hell and back, how clear were they on the tracks they were leaving? How focused were they on the things that defined their legacy? That's leadership. When your deeds serve people you will never even meet, that's when people follow you up onto the proverbial rooftop. We are craving leaders who are clear and who lead from a place of legacy bigger than themselves. And frankly, it's a hell of a metric to help guide you through challenging times.?

Try this: go someplace quiet and take a pen and paper. Imagine it's your last day on earth. Who would you want holding your hand and sitting at your side? Close your eyes. Breathe. Picture their face. Breathe. Hear their voice. Now, imagine this special person who was there with you in your final moments is having coffee with someone 15 years after you've passed on. That new person didn't know you and is asking about you. The person who was with you at the end of your life describes the tracks you left behind. What would you have them say? Maybe it's about the capacity you built in your movement or organization that lasted beyond your time. Maybe it's the way your kids navigate the world based on what you gifted them. Or maybe it's all the incredible relationships you built that still flourish.

Regardless, move the pen and let those answers spill onto the page. Don't think. Just write for about 10 minutes. You may get emotional. That's okay. Just feel your feet on the ground. Take a big breath and let go. The emotion will pass in about 45 seconds. It's necessary in some cases. Then, take a break and walk away from it. Go back and look at those tracks. Share them, if you can, with that special person. Work them into the things you talk about with your vision. Tell people about your tracks, about what you're building. Ask them to help you leave those tracks.

Put the tracks somewhere that they "stare at you" all the time. It helps you stay focused on what matters. I keep mine in my bedroom closet and I look at them every morning.

Consider updating your tracks quarterly. Each time do the same process. Go somewhere quiet and select a different person to hold your hand in your final moments and then let them have that conversation with another person 15 years after you've gone. You'll start to develop a really cool, holistic and 360-degree view of the tracks you were born to leave.

Tracks. They are indeed the wellspring of leadership. We are hungry for leaders who do this. Nobody is coming to save us. The good news is that next chapter of your life - the tracks you'll leave - has yet to be written.

Give it a shot. Leave your tracks. And lead us into better days.

I'll see you on the Rooftop.

If this article resonated with you, then go to?scottmann.com?and pre-order your copy of “Nobody is Coming to Save You.” When you get your book on Oct 1, 2024, Leaving Tracks is one of many tactics for purpose-based impact you’ll dig into in this antibody to today’s Churn of Disconnection.?