weLEAD Online Magazine
Copyright
2004 ã weLEAD, Inc.
We all question our
ability at times. Uncertainty plagues
us. It is even more intense if the
ability we are questioning relates to something we have never tried or not
succeeded at in the past.
Set backs are common, but we rarely welcome them. We are inclined to respond negatively to
adversity. It may be time to revisit
that reflexive response.
I had an experience recently that caused me to reconsider whether a
negative response to adversity is always justified when I was confronted with a
life-threatening situation.
It was mid-morning on a warm and pleasant Saturday. I was in the midst of my first skydive of the
day. It was my 2,123rd jump since having
taken up the sport fifteen years ago.
After about one minute of freefall and 5,000 feet above the ground, I
parted ways with my fellow jumpers to get far enough away from them to open my
parachute safely. I initiated opening
around 3,000 feet above the earth.
My parachute opened with some twists in the lines between the parachute
and me. This is not that uncommon. What was different this time was that I was
not able to clear the twists.
The twists in the lines caused my parachute to take on an asymmetrical
shape. Receiving asymmetrical inputs,
the canopy did what it is designed to do and initiated a turn -- that's how
it's steered. The problem occurred when
the turn quickly became a rapid, diving downward spiral
that was spinning me a full 360 degrees
about once every second. This was a
problem.
I looked up to assess my canopy and saw something I don't often see -
the horizon clearly visible ABOVE the trailing edge of my canopy. This meant my canopy and I were
now on roughly the same horizontal plane.
In that I could see the horizon behind it, I was actually above my
parachute and
it was leading our fast spinning
parade rapidly towards mother earth.
My first need was to acknowledge that I was not going to be able to
solve this problem. This is not as easy
as it seems. Having successfully
completed over 2,100 jumps without having to resort to my second parachute, it
was hard for me to believe I had really encountered a problem I could not
solve. I had a natural inclination to
assume I could fix this problem as I had all those in the past.
Sound familiar? It's always easy
to lapse into denial when confronted with a problem. Until we acknowledge the problem and our
possible inability to solve it - or to use the methods we have used in the past
- we don't have a chance of making things better.
Fortunately, the urgency of this situation caused my hard-headed nature
to yield much quicker than usual. That
decision probably took a second or two.
The next step, having accepted the need to follow a different course
than in the past, was to determine the course.
Fortunately fifteen years of training and practice before every day of
jumping took hold.
I looked straight down at the two handles on either side of my chest -
one to release me from my malfunctioning canopy and one for deploying my
reserve parachute - and realized I needed to quickly get them in my hands. I could not help but notice when I made eye
contact with them, as had been ingrained in me during my First Jump Course way
back in 1988, that by now the rapid spins had turned me back to earth and there
beyond my toes was once again the horizon.
This was bad!
Time was of the essence at this point not only because I was now rapidly
progressing toward the horse pasture below me, but also because the centrifugal
force I was starting to experience would soon make it impossible to get my
hands to those two handles.
With my hands now securely on the handles, I was confronted with a
bothersome question, "Now, which one goes first." The wrong order could cause my reserve
parachute to deploy into my spinning main parachute which would result in an
incurable entanglement.
Fortunately, ingrained training once again took over and I pulled them
in the right order. First the handle on
the right side which released me from my spinning main parachute followed by
the handle on the left side to deploy my reserve parachute.
This brought on a
wonderful experience. My malfunctioning
black, teal and magenta canopy was replaced with a bright, yellow never before
used reserve parachute. What a lovely
sight! And all this by
1,700 feet - plenty of time to spare.
Many years ago, I read a book about the challenges and responsibilities
of Secret Service agents. One of the sad
aspects of that profession is that agents who never have the chance to validate
their years of training by responding to a threat sometimes struggle severely
in retirement. They
are faced with not knowing - with
certainty - how they would respond when faced with the paramount challenge
their career can deliver. For this
reason, agents who have faced such a challenge successfully are admired within
the culture of the Service.
That Saturday morning, I had the privilege of facing a similar,
life-threatening and I now realize life-defining challenge. I faced what Secret Service agents call
"the dragon."
For all of us the greater dragon is not the external threat, whether it be an assassin's bullet, the unforgiving and fast
approaching earth or another challenge.
The real dragon is the self-doubt we carry within us.
For those few splendid moments after landing safely, I was able to put
my foot firmly on the neck of the dragon ... and it felt great.
Keep this in mind the next time you are confronted with adversity. On the far side of the experiences the
adversity presents, there could be a valuble gift - a
renewed confidence and certainty.
(c) 2004, Jim McCormick.
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About the author:
Jim McCormick draws on his engineering degree, MBA and experience as a
Chief Operating Officer of an international design firm to help organizations
improve performance. He is co-author of
Motivational Selling, editor of 365 Daily Doses of
Courage and author of the forthcoming book Seize