The Natural Pitfalls of Improvisational Leadership
I was thinking of the act by which ships are “christened”
for their maiden voyage as the empty glass soda bottle in my
eleven-year-old-hand connected with the giant oak tree at the Polish Veteran’s
picnic grounds. That was most definitely
NOT what the adults around me were thinking as they swarmed in my
direction. I vaguely remember dropping
the bottle and looking at the faces of the one or two younger kids with me, yet
now I cannot remember who they were. Lucky them. I do remember that as we had finished our
sodas I declared: “Let me show you what
to do with this.” It was ceremonial in
my head. Yeah, the adults didn’t feel
that way.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” The road to hell has that spray-painted along
the sidewalk, and with good reason.
People believe that there are such things as “born leaders.” To a certain extent, I disagree. A person may have leadership qualities, a
certain charisma that causes others to listen more readily to their opinions,
or other non-common traits that set them apart, BUT, (and this is a big but)
they have to have a good role model in front of them to steer the zeal in the
correct way. (Television does not
provide that.) That role model can be a
contemporary person or a set of principles or morals that are clearly
articulated (ie The Golden Rule or the Ten Commandments, etc.) but no one can
be a leader in a vacuum and not get it wrong at least sometimes. Perhaps the things that actually go right are
just moments of the kindness of God saving them from lifelong humiliation? I don’t know.
I just am willing to go on record agreeing with the quote of the late
Thomas Merton, monk from Gethsemane Abbey, “No man is an island.” We need the example and influence of others.
My first moment of trying out the theory of improvisational
leadership kind of spooked me about leading anyone or anything again. Mainly the adults at the misunderstood-event
YELLED … particularly that woman who was scary-looking
already. She was stocky and pale and had
a wild eye and always seemed to be ranting about something. I am sure that my kid-brain locked her in
that way forever… just like the other
adults I knew who didn’t take the time to ask, “What was that all about?” Thank
Heavens, I was too big to spank. My
father was “working the wheel of fortune” table so I bet he was preoccupied
enough where I was told, “Yeah, don’t do that again.” After I am done writing this, I will ask him
if he remembers the incident. Five bucks
says he won’t.
Improvisational Leadership is the term I would use to
describe what Type A personalities do when given the chance to lead in an area
where they have zero life experience. I
remember speaking with a man about thirty years ago who told me he was a
consultant. I asked him, “What do you
consult about?” He answered: “Everything.”
THAT MAN was an improvisational leader in order to get a paycheck. He would either have to research the areas of
his consulting that were weak and foggy, or he would just have to make crap
up. I hope he didn’t do that. But it is probably not the first time that an
improvisational leader made up details to suit the occasion.
Improvisational leaders can be misunderstood. They can have the best of intentions … which
end up inadvertently paving the same, extremely southbound-road that I
mentioned above. They move forward
because they were given – or interpreted that they had – a moment of confidence
from followers. They often have noble
ideas. It’s just that the raw material
of the universe doesn’t always build nobility if you have no clear model to
follow. You take a risk, because you are
a risk-taker by nature, always believing that somehow a special star shines
above you and if you do “just this one thing” your greatness will be
revealed. So yeah, I guess that puts
them in a fantasy world at times. It is
a benevolent fantasy world with great ideals being achieved and justice and
fairness and who wouldn’t want to be a part of bringing that about?!
Permit me to take you to the bathroom at about the same time
period as the bottle event. My younger
brother, at my elbow, we stepped into the family bathroom and I proceeded to
take the singular bottle of Chanel No. 5 perfume from the closet. It was half-empty. In my world, anything half-empty demands to
be addressed. My mother deserved more. So by the amazing principle of Liquid
Expansion, I just began to add water to make “more” perfume. Why not?
I will tell you why not. The next
sound we heard was my mother at the door demanding we OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT
NOW. “Just a sec,” was not an acceptable
response, but it did buy a few more minutes for my Father to get to the door
also. “Great.” Now two parents would see how generous and
noble their children are! Yet, oddly,
that is not how it shook down. All I can
say is that an appropriate punishment might have been to force me to take a
Chemistry class in high school a few years later so I would grasp why my
nobility principle didn’t work with the water in the perfume. Had they recognized my Improvisational
leadership leanings, they should have made sure I took Chemistry. But it did not happen that way.
I would like to propose that leading-with-no-clue, while
dangerous, might be a better option than the alternative: no leadership at all. Sometimes in the swirl of daily life things
take on a hectic, yet predictable, rhythm.
And while I have a few friends who willingly elect that lifestyle, I am
desiring very much to step to the edge and see what else can be done in
whatever situation I find myself. So for
all the risks and pitfalls of this disposition, it is to me a much more
attractive option than a slow death amidst the march of time.
On more than one occasion upon visiting a new
city or event, I want to take the road-less-traveled. I don’t want to eat the hot dog from the street
vendor’s cart in D.C. I want to take the
Metro and find the Post Office Mall and get a franchise taco or slice of pizza
and then take the elevator up to the top of the roof and “see the city.” When I am in a mountain Adirondack town and
the drizzle is threatening overhead, I still
want to walk through the rain to see if the log cabin gift shop still
exists down the street, as it does in my memory, even if I step in an ice cold
puddle on the way. Discomfort is a part
of life. I detest it only because it
slows the journey and hampers the exploration.
Well, that, and it makes my foot crinkly and prune-ish.
Do not bail me out of my journey. Do not shake me from my dream world. I am putting my “all” into finding my way and
improvising as I go. Join me, won’t you?
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