"You don't paddle against the current, you paddle with it. And if you get good at it, you throw away the oars."
--Kris Kristofferson
Photo credit: Sue Bakkila
One of the reasons this blog is named “Like A River” is that the river metaphor beautifully expresses the tension between “going with the flow” and “steering your own ship.”
Last summer, my daughter and I camped with friends who invited us to kayak the Upper Platte River in Northern Michigan. We both enthusiastically agreed, rented kayaks, and hopped into the water. Until now, most of my kayak experience was limited to serene lakes and slow-moving meanders. I’d often canoed or kayaked the Lower Platte River, which is slow and lazy, and I anticipated that the Upper would be much the same. In short, I was wrong.
The Upper Platte River has “tight turns, fast currents, low hanging branches, and underwater obstacles.” I tipped over moments after entering my boat. After that first capsize (and for the many more that followed), anxiety had me. The river had deadfall across the current in many places, in addition to the turns, branches, and obstacles described above. Anxiety and competitive ego took over as each turn, tree, or branch approached (at speeds I could not control). I dug in. I was going to best this river!
As you have likely already surmised, that strategy was a complete failure. By trying to avoid obstacles, I fought against both the kayak itself and the currents in the river. My anxiety caused me to grip my paddle and hold my body so stiffly that I could not work with the boat or the river. In general, the water's current won every time.
I found myself pasting on a smile for my friends and daughter, hoping my distress would not ruin their trip. My daughter finally said, “Mom. You need to quit fighting the river so much and go with the flow.” At first, that was exactly right. Loosening the grip of fear and anxiety enough to work with instead of against meant that I was avoiding more obstacles. It turns out that one of the fundamentals of kayaking is “don’t freak out.” I was violating that first fundamental.
Unforrtunately, that was not enough. Although my daughter correctly pointed out that I needed to loosen up, this was not a river where I could just “go with the flow.” The flow would take me parallel to breached trees, into rocks, and perpendicular to fast currents. Going with the flow also left me in the river instead of on the river.
Somehow, I needed to strike the right balance between over-paddling and under-paddling and work with the kayak and the river.
It seems to me that “tight turns, fast currents, low hanging branches, and underwater obstacles” could describe leadership as well as a river.
I have been richly fortunate with teachers, managers, mentors, advisors, and coaches. They notice when I am over- or under-paddling, share techniques for getting down the river, warn me of upcoming obstacles and have even helped me right my boat after tipping.
These gifted humans have slowed me down. Their non-anxious presence allowed me to release some anxiety. Their ability to set aside their ego allowed me to be vulnerable.
The best teachers know when to guide and when to observe. The best managers know when to intervene and allow teams to move independently. The best organizations serve clients by providing tools to navigate without disrupting their lives or business.
I believe that is what we, as leaders, are called to do. We should set aside our ego and anxiety to walk with partners, team members, and clients. At the same time, we remain engaged, and we don’t just sit back to go wherever others or the situation flow. At our best, we strike the balance between the two.
I’ll be camping with my friends again in a couple of weeks. They have already asked me to kayak the Upper Platte with them again. I am considering how I might do it differently this year.
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