longitudinal leadership. [pt. 2]

For a period of time in middle school, I wore a forest green woven bracelet that read, “GO THE DISTANCE” in white stitching. They were handed out at a Christian sports camp I attended summers before. When it came to sports, I preferred being a spectator. Attending camp challenged me to try something new. Over several summers, I learned that I preferred individual sports like tennis and cross-country to team sports, like soccer. I never considered myself much of an athlete, but the bracelet gave me a small sense of belief that I had it in me.

I’ve turned those three words, “Go the distance,” over in my mind countless times since then. They lift me when I want to give up. They apply to weary seasons I find myself in, to finish strong. They remind me that life is a series of decisions. And all my decisions write the stories that make up my life.

Leadership is a long game. It’s navigating through circumstances with people. And it’s a series of decisions. Decisions that tell a story about what we value. Decisions that affect the future. Decisions that either unify our words with our actions, or divide them.

Some day, people will tell stories about my leadership. My kids will tell stories about my parenting. My co-workers will share what it was like to be on the other side of me in meetings. My resumé will have two dates between a dash. I can only guess at the stories they’ll tell, but I hope they say I was the type of leader who could go the distance.

I hope people will sense that I applied myself to every situation. That I gave my best and that I saw the best. Especially when I was tired and overspent. I hope they say I was a leader who lasted. Who weathered storms. Who built character during high tide and kept others from coasting during low tide.

I’ve got miles to go. And in this chapter, I’m trying to walk alongside experienced leaders who have something to teach me. So here is what has been illuminated for me lately.

2) Leaders listen to learn.

One of the benefits of working remotely is that I’ve been forced to pay closer attention to the nonverbal aspects of communication. Tone can hint at someone’s mood. Pitch can reveal stress. Pauses between speaking can signal thoughtfulness, confusion, or ideation. Nonverbals may suggest things to me, but asking questions helps me find out if they’re accurate. Sometimes I’m wrong, and read into things. But more often than not, people reveal themselves through what they don’t say out loud.

If there’s any skill I hope to develop deeper over my lifetime, it’s listening. I think I will always be a student in that sense. I’m discovering the wisest leaders share this sentiment. I’ve been on the other end of the line many times to know when someone is distracted or when someone is really interested. I’ve answered work FaceTime calls and have legitmately watched a person swipe mascara on their eyes, using the camera as their mirror. Not being listened to, feels a certain way. And I too, have been an inattentive listener many times.

I’ve cared more about what I want to say next. I’ve readied my comebacks, thought about what I’m making for dinner, texted someone else, all while acting like I’m listening. But what I’m learning is, 1) people can always tell if you care about what they’re saying and 2) leaders are motivated to listen because they believe there’s always something to learn.

Seasoned leaders often talk about who they were in the first half of their leadership compared to wiser versions of themselves in their second halves. When I listen to their stories, a common theme throughout is that they realized there was more power in listening than there was in having the last word.

I’m long winded. I can talk in circles and rack up minutes doing it. But when I get really intentional, and posture thoughtful questions towards others, my days get really exciting. In listening to one leader talk about their struggle to get organized, I realized I had heard another leader share the same difficulty. Dots connected as I listened. A solution became clear. We implemented it the same day. The tiniest of weights lifted for all of us. And we got to move forward a little lighter.

Other times when I’ve practiced listening, solutions don’t come dancing to the foreground like we hope. Sometimes, no matter their effort, life is still challenging. In those moments, relatability is all I can offer. “I’ve been there, too. It’s hard.” helps people alleviate more leadership pain than I ever thought. Leaders often come back later and say, “Thank you for making me feel like I’m not crazy.”

Reflecting on my growoth over the past year, I still battle my insecurity. A lot of that is worrying that I’m the only one who feels a certain way. Listening so I can learn from someone else has shown me, I’m not crazy either. What I thought would erode my credibility with leaders, has been the very thing that connects us.

If a leader can listen with the intent to learn, they’ll always learn. That’s the gift of having agency. I am learning that leaders find solutions for themselves faster when you give them permission to name reality first. “You’re not crazy. That’s valid.” has been the most helpful thing I can say. It’s been an onramp to building trust.

Listening to learn builds trust. Trust builds secure leaders. Confident leaders are solution-oriented. Solution-oriented leaders go the distance.

The world needs stronger leaders and better listeners. Why not be both?

Finding Joy in the Ordinary

You’ve Got Mail is my favorite movie for many reasons. One of my favorite Kathleen Kelly lines as she is emailing Joe Fox is,

“I like to start my notes to you as if we’re already in the middle of a conversation. I pretend we’re the oldest and dearest of friends–as opposed to what we actually are, people who don’t know each others names.”

You’ve Got Mail, 1998

So as my oldest and dearest friend, I feel safe sharing with you what I am learning as of late. I’d like to go on record and say that my mind is having an incredibly challenging time fully expressing myself. So prepare for me to talk in circles to you in hope that they make some sort of sense.

Several months ago I was on a walk with my dad, something that we do together often. I am the type of person who never wants a conversation to end and he is one who likes an exciting experience to last as long as possible. We make a good team in this way, where he can walk with a freed up mind, and as long as I can keep up with him, I am welcomed to share my endless stream of unfinished thoughts.

One of the things that came out of our conversation is that we need to continuously find joy in the ordinary. As my favorite Podcaster Christy Nockels has worded it: to find the glorious in the mundane. Reading those words sound like a simple to do, but for me, that is probably my biggest challenge in life.

Have you ever experienced the unsettling feeling of something missing from your experience? I get that. For me, that’s when finding joy in the ordinary seems impossible. Knowing what’s missing and not knowing how to fix it is like feeling an itch on your back, but not being able to reach it yourself.

With that being said, it has taken me a while to find myself here. If I had to give a summary of who I think I am at this very present time in my life, words like overwhelmed, doubtful, and weary come to mind.

My name is Natalie and I am learning to press into Jesus’s grace and truth as I wrestle with all of my fears and failures that I’ve let life rent-free in my head for far too long. I’ve believed many lies about myself, especially in this last year. Some of them were simply spoken over me and I crumbled under the weight of not being enough. Some lies I formed for myself in my darkest moments.

I have allowed myself to become and play the victim card for years and I’m finally here because I am exhausted and desperate for something better. Maybe all of this sounds very vague, but if you for any small reason you relate–I hope to pursue the grace and truth of Jesus with you and what that means for our lives.

At the end of the day, I know that I am His. I know that I am beloved as a daughter of the king of the universe. Knowing and believing though, are two separate things. You can know a lot of things without ever believing them in your heart.

So I am Natalie and I am ready to believe in the God who knows exactly who I am, even when I doubt truth. Welcome to the story of grace.