One of my favorite childhood memories happened one cold winter Saturday afternoon, swimming at the indoor pool of a nearby university. Present were my dad and two brothers.
The scene was this: my youngest brother, who was about 8, wanted to jump off the highest platform. From what I remember, there was the low diving board, then the high dive (10 feet or so), and finally, the very high platform—“the tower” (about 30 feet high).
In a moment of impulsive, youthful enthusiasm, little bro asked Dad if he could jump off the tower, which he’d never done before. Actually, none of us had ever jumped off the tower. In fact, I don’t remember anyone jumping off of it that day. It just stood there, like some big, menacing monument, taking up space, mocking us.
So, Dad gave the “thumbs up”. I think he said, “But if you climb up that ladder, you can’t climb back down. You gotta jump.”
Actually, the tower was so high that it didn’t have a ladder. It had stairs. Not a good sign.
Little bro ran over to the opposite end of the pool, and started making his way up that long, winding staircase of that bad, scary tower. We all watched with wonder, maybe a little fear, at the audacious boldness of this pint-sized young’n. It felt like I was watching some circus act unfold before me—like the tightrope guy getting ready for his act, making his long ascent above the crowd.
Now my favorite part of the story: little bro gets to the top of the staircase, steps onto that long, wide platform where he can see the whole world below him, and “slows his roll” a bit, as if he suddenly wakes up and realizes what he’s actually doing.
He inches his scrawny little shivering body to the edge of the platform. With knees knocking, he tells Dad he’s changed his mind—he’s climbed to the top, he’s seen the beautiful view, now he’s ready to come down . . . via the stairs, thank you very much.
What does Dad say? “No way, son. You gotta jump.”
A moment of drama. What will happen? Will Dad have to go up and rescue the kid? Or maybe go up and push him off (I was hoping for this option)?
Dad stood his ground. “You gotta jump, son. You can do it.”
I don’t recall how long this standoff lasted—Dad saying jump, bro saying he wanted to come down. But what I do remember is my brother standing on the edge of that tower platform, timidly crouching down, and eventually jumping (he dropped like a small sack of potatoes).
No, to my disappointment, I didn’t get to see Dad go up and push him off. But what I saw was even better. My little bro being courageous—moving forward in the face of fear, and doing the hard thing.
Very cool indeed. Way to go little bro!
And, way to go Dad! A brilliant piece of leadership.
Ok, so what are the lessons here? So many. Here are a few:
1) Be audacious. Dictionary definition: “showing a willingness to take surprisingly bold risks”. Yes, take risks! Go outside your comfort zone. It’s the only way to grow and advance.
2) Yet, think it through. Acting first, thinking second, doesn’t always serve us well. We may get lucky sometimes, but more often than not, a “Ready, Fire, Aim” approach to life will often bite us in the butt. There may be some “towers” that really are a bad idea to jump off of.
3) When fear strikes, walk into the fear boldly. “Touch a thistle timidly, and it pricks you; grasp it boldly and its spines crumble.”—William Nichols
4) Being afraid is ok--it’s normal and human. What’s important is what we do with the fear. What’s the end result? I believe most, if not all, true acts of greatness are preceded by fear.
Only two kinds of people don’t experience fear: crazy people (who are too disconnected from reality to realize when they’re moving into more threatening situations) and lazy people (who never do anything to stimulate fear—never “climbing the tower”, let alone walking to the edge of the platform).
5) Have at least one person in your life to encourage you, AND challenge you, to climb the tower. And then to jump.
Left to ourselves, we may just back our way slowly off the platform and down those stairs.
6) The one who conquers his or her fear and jumps off the platform will possibly have a life-shaping experience. Nothing energizes us like this kind of thing, giving us momentum, maybe even changing how we see ourselves and our own competence. Success breeds success.
7) To leaders: know when to challenge your people to go beyond themselves. Give the challenge to take smart risks, wrapped in a ton of support and encouragement.
Any other lessons that you can extract from this story? Add a comment and share your wisdom!
--Sean Cox, Chicago