Who Belays For You?

Throughout my career I have been privileged to have employers that have been willing to invest in my development. This has generally included two-to-three-day leadership or strategy sessions that are equal parts learning and networking. In April 2015 I participated in a unique and transformative leadership program. I enrolled in an Outward Bound expedition which consisted of hiking, camping and rock climbing in the Pisgah National Forest in North Carolina.

Outward Bound is an international network of outdoor education organizations that was founded by Lawrence Holt and Kurt Hann in 1941. Outward Bound courses follow the Outward Bound Process Model which is described as:

1.   Taking a ready, motivated learner

2.   into a prescribed, unfamiliar physical environment,

3.   along with a small group of people

4.   who are faced with a series of incremental, inter-related problem-solving tasks

5.   which creates in the individual a state of dissonance requiring adaptive coping and

6.   leads to a sense of mastery or competence when equilibrium is managed.

7.   The cumulative effect of these experiences leads to a reorganization of the self-conceptions and information the learner holds about him/herself.

8.   The learner will then continue to be positively oriented to further learning and development experiences (transfer).

In a typical class, participants are divided into small patrols (or groups) under the guidance of one or more instructors. The first few days, often at a base camp, are spent training for the activities that the course will contain and in the philosophy of Outward Bound. After initial confidence-building challenges, the group heads off on an expedition. As the group develops the capacity to do so, the instructors ask the group to make its own decisions. (Wikipedia)

I carry several instructive moments form the expedition. 

Facts Change: While serving as navigator for our patrol, I was sure that I had gotten us terribly lost. We were to turn right onto a gravel road at the next ridge, yet there were none in site. Only the paved road where our group stood awaiting my direction. I asked one small group to scout ahead and one to scout behind. Both came back with no additional data. After much spirited debate, we concluded that the road had been paved since the map was published. We ended up being correct, but as a leader I sweated that decision until we made it to the next discernible landmark. I had visions of us not making it to camp because of my poor decision. 

Good Enough is Sometimes Good Enough: Our expedition consisted of an overnight solo. I found myself a nice place to set up camp near a flowing stream. Most people who attended Jewish overnight camp are familiar with the line, “How goodly are your tents o Jacob”? Well, my shelter was pitiful. After I prepared dinner, the skies opened, and I crawled into my barely passable shelter. I would be lying if I said I slept like a baby or it beat a night at the Ritz, but I did wake up safe and dry.

Fess Up Fast: One evening I had the job of filtering water for the patrol. As I was passing water bottles out, I somehow realized that I had run the water through the filtering system without dropping in the requisite filtration chemicals. I do not know how my brain caught the mistake. I made the split-second decision to yell “stop,” own up to my mistake and collect the bottles. My patrol could not have been more gracious. In fact, one peer noted that the look on my face said it all. The group knew that I had a terrible fear of failing my team and we had a good discussion about that moment and how instructive it was.

I had planned to do another Outward Bound expedition this year, but circumstances have made that impossible. Instead, I just concluded a three-month one-on-one coaching engagement with a very well-respected individual in advertising agency management.

Times are different – our sessions were all over Zoom – me in my guest room in Baltimore with her living as an expat in Mexico. In our last session she noted, “I sense you sometimes feel you have to do things yourself in order for them to get done right and that can be debilitating.”

That one bit of radical candor brought me back to the most important lesson from Outward Bound.

Our expedition included rock climbing at Chimney Rock. I had never climbed before and I asked my patrol for measured encouragement and guidance as I ascended. I gutted through the climb and when I got to the top, I turned my neck and looked down at where the Broad River empties into Lake Lure. I tried to take in the moment and the beauty. I had made it to the top on my own. I was not the first climber in our patrol and I knew the protocol was for me to rappel down the front of the rock. That said, instead of relying on my patrol mates and rappelling down, I did the most dangerous possible thing. I started climbing down the front of the rock like a sand crab.

In retrospect, it was classic overcontrol. The climb up was supposed to be the challenge, but here I was struggling with the descent. I could not trust my teammates or the process to get me down safely. I had this innate sense I had to do it myself. With some gentle coaching from our patrol leader, I stopped my ill-fated descent and took a deep breath. I looked down at the patrol who had served as a source of strength and pushed off the rock and rappelled down.

When I got to the bottom, I was exhilarated and shaking from the adrenaline rush. Mary, a financial advisor from Charlotte who is twenty years my senior had belayed for me. As I unhooked myself, I realized that was the culminating moment in the trip. It was the point where I almost made the decision to put myself in danger to maintain a modicum of control.

There have been moments over the past six years where I forgot that valuable lesson. There are so many Marys in my life, personally and professionally, who I intellectually know that I can count on. People who would belay for me if I would just let them.

Next time you find yourself making a self-destructive decision because you feel you have no choice to achieve the outcome you desire; I’d urge you to consider my story and ask yourself a question . . .

Who belays for you?