The Quiet Inheritance

I’m in Augusta, Georgia for my son’s basketball tournament this week. We flew into Atlanta after a four-and-a-half hour delay from Dallas and made the two-and-a-half hour drive to our quaint little AirBNB. Arriving at three in the morning meant that we didn’t stop to take a look around but put our heads on our pillows and fell right asleep.

I woke up in the morning to find the most whimsical, wonderful little house afoot. Each corner carries a charming piece of art, a thoughtfully curated tchotchke, and colorful contributions to the aesthetic. It delighted me. Especially when I realized what I couldn’t see the night before: we are sitting in the middle of a rundown neighborhood. Abandoned homes sit on several corners.

But here in this house is a hopeful little space with a sign over the fireplace that says, “Normal is boring.”

I found myself recalling a precious line from the book I read on the flight over, The Calamity Club,

“Nobody needs to remind me to count my blessings, I could count to a hundred for what I have done in just the last two hours.”

I’m as guilty as the next person of getting bogged down in the TO-DO’s and the TOP PRIORITIES and the CHECK-LISTS and the weight of the BIG ROCKS and the discipline of the STRATEGY and the direct line of sight to ALL THE THINGS THAT NEED TO BE DONE.

But as I walked across these creaking hardwoods, I was pulled out of the urgent and into the important: whimsy, joy, gratitude, delight.

When Gallup recently polled, it asked respondents to answer what the leaders with the most positive influence in their lives contribute, it wasn’t great feedback, clear role expectations, or a great comp structure. More than half the respondents answered with the same word: Hope.

Every week I sit with leaders carrying what I've come to think of as the quiet inheritance of modern leadership. You still have to have that coherent strategy in place and ensure you hit the numbers and make that next executive hire. And you have to be a beacon of hope.

It’s a lot to carry. It is a difficult task to master the “and” - to become the clear-headed leader in full grasp of the reality of the market, the demands, the decisions, the team and to be a hopeful person who continues to remind us that Life Life is much bigger than the next strategy. That in spite of the conditions we may find ourselves in, it still means something to bring some joy, delight and hope into the lives of the people around us.

These homeowners understand the “and.” Everything here had to be in working order. The pillows are comfortable. The coffee is waiting. The shower is hot. And. They sent us watermelon smoothies on day 3. They refused to let the conditions surrounding this house determine the experience inside it.

The strategy still matters.

The numbers still matter.

The difficult conversations still matter.

But somewhere along the way, many leaders quietly inherit another responsibility:

To become someone who helps others believe tomorrow is worth building.