#5 Are we there yet?
I have heard that phrase only a few times in my car or on an airplane. I don't know if that happened because I trained my kids to respect the natural flow of things and avoid focusing on what they cannot change or because I've been lucky. Let's say it is a little bit of both. "Are we there yet?" It's a popular phrase children use during travel times, but I've heard it more at work from adults eager to reach their next project milestone or personal target. Project milestones, such as the arrival at the next gas station or holiday destination, are easy to set and usually easy to measure. You should know where you are, where you want to go, how to get there, and continuously check your progress. You should reach your target on time if you calculate everything correctly and have the means. If anything fails (children throwing up in the car or budgets blown away), you might fail as well to get where you wanted at the right time. That's life. You learn from it, and the next time, you pack more paper towels and care more about money. Traveling with children and project management are very similar: the more you plan, the fewer surprises you should have. "Should" is a key word.
Personal targets are a different thing. You might know where you are, what you want, and how long it should take you to get it, but the amount of stuff out of your control requires much more than "just" planning. Getting a salary raise, a promotion, more visibility, recognition, or weight in an organization does not only depend on what you do but how others see it. You have to match your personal style to the one of those who will judge you. You have to be a team player and play according to the rules. You have to smile, but not too much. You have to be tough but caring. It would be best to have a strategic mind, but you must remember to deliver on the operational side. You have to manage people but not manipulate them. You have to understand who sits at the big boy's table, and then, maybe, one day, they will let you sit with them. It's not only about "what" you do but "how" you do it. It is important as well to never forget the "why." Why do we do the things we do? Both in business and personal life, through the years, I've realized that many times, busy with what happens and the worries of how to do it, we forget about the why.
A long time ago, someone at work asked me how I would know one day if I was successful in my career. Funny enough, it was clear as water to me at that time. I would consider myself successful the day I could buy a pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes without regret or remorse. The thought of red open-toe high-heeled shoes gave me hope. For years, that was my personal goal. I dreamed of them and worked for them after setting my goal. I decided I had reached my goal and deserved my reward when I was leading my first project while pregnant with my first child. Committed to bringing my Manolo's home, I found a website that only delivered to the US, friends that could get my package to Europe, and an unbelievable discount that secured my lack-of-regret purchase. I was successful.
I waited for a month for the package. I opened the show box and felt a chill in my spine. Something was not right. There were two pretty shoe bags, a pair of shiny red shoes with rhinestones, with a name on them... but they were not the real deal. I tried them, and they did not fit. I couldn't even fake it; I couldn't walk on them. There I was, eight months pregnant, trying to walk on ten-centimeter heels that did not fit me. That day, I felt defeated. I had no remorse for the faulty deal but fear for what it could mean. Was it a sign? Was my success as fake as my shiny shoes?
I put the shoes in their bags, the bags on the box, and closed the package. In the following months, I delivered my project, and my daughter was born. After my maternity leave, I solved issues no one did during my time out. I lost the opportunity for promotion because I had been time out, but I still picked up new projects, kept working... and never looked back into that shoe box. Not for many years.
A few years ago, three hiring companies and three children of my own later, I moved to my third house. There I was, surrounded by boxes and hoping my newborn baby would not wake up while unpacking when I found the white shoebox. I took the pretty red shoes out of their bags and stared at them for a while before trying them, and you know what? They fit perfectly. I looked at myself in the mirror: old jeans, baggy t-shirt, messed hair, and high heels. I walked into the corridor, into my bedroom, and finally, I sat in my bed, looked at my sleeping baby in his crib, and took the shoes out. I put them in their bags and box and stored them in the walking closet. I realized I did not need them. In fact, I did not even want them, but I accepted them as part of my wardrobe. That day, I was on maternity leave from my full-time job. I had three kids, a loving partner, a new house, and a comfortable and sometimes stressful life. I had the life I had worked for. I ran projects that challenged me and kept me on my toes and a fulfilling personal life. Those shoes in the box were just a reminder of who I used to be. I thought about that question someone had asked so many years before about when to know we are successful, and I realized it is a very tricky one. As it happens in projects, things change in life. While traveling with children, only some things can be planned or controlled. Time passes and changes everything, even if we don't like it. Despite we don't like it.
I then remembered my "why". I once wanted my red Manolos to show people I was successful. Today, I know I am where I want to be, independent of what others might see or think. If that's not success, I don't know what it is. The shoes are still pretty, but I learned they don't define me.
