This week I took a break from the posts, the networking, and the consulting hours to drive to Washington, DC and join my family in saying goodbye to my grandfather. We laid my grandfather to rest at Arlington Cemetery yesterday morning, right alongside my grandmother, on a sun-dappled hill overlooking the Pentagon. The 12-hour drive back to Chicago gave me plenty of time to think about our relationship, everything he taught me, and what his life meant to everyone he touched.
I don’t doubt that First Sargent George Cochran Dawe of the 11th Airborne was a good soldier. But what I know unequivocally is that he was an incredible grandfather. It would be silly to try to capture all the ways in which he influenced my life in a blog post, but as I sit down today and “get back to work,” here are four lessons that come to mind this week:
Take care of yourself first
We’re all taught the Golden Rule when we’re kids. Treat others as we would like to be treated. The Christian variation on that concept shows up multiple times, perhaps none more prominently than in Matthew, “In everything, therefore, treat people the same way you want them to treat you.” (Matt 7:12) But if you think about it – if you don’t first love yourself, if you’re not confident and proud of who you are, if you don’t care for your body and your relationships, then how do you expect to put this idea into practice? If you treat yourself like garbage, it stands to reason that you would treat everyone around you like garbage as well.
Another way to think about this is in terms of your capacity to care for other people. If you don’t first care for your own physical, emotional and mental well-being, it doesn’t matter how much you want to care for others or put them first. You simply won’t have any charge left in your batteries. Remember the last time you flew on an airplane? Yeah, I know – me neither. But if you could, you’d remember the flight attendant’s safety briefing:
Should the cabin experience a sudden loss of pressure, oxygen masks will drop down from above your seat. Place the mask over your nose and mouth and breathe normally. Please secure your own mask before assisting others around you.
Why secure your own mask first? Because without it, your ability to help those around you will be short lived. You won’t get very far before you slip into unconsciousness yourself. And before you do, you’ll be making all sorts of dizzy, lightheaded, irrational decisions.
My grandfather was one of the most selfless humans I have ever met. He put other people first with everything he ever did. But he cared for his own wellbeing first. He had a chin-up bar in his apartment, and my wife used to laugh when he’d hug her because even in his eighties he was strong as an ox. Most days he would get up before the sun and walk 5 or more miles with a friend or family member – caring for his physical well being, his peace of mind, and his relationships. It put him in a state where he could be present for other people.
He was constantly challenging himself and learning as well, buying a new computer and learning how to use various pieces of software. He never let his mind rest, and it stayed with him to the end.
You are more resilient than you know
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
Friends and family know that I have “invictus” tattooed on my right forearm to remind me of people like my grandfather and this poem by William Ernest Henley.
My grandfather enlisted in the US Army in 1946, and served for nearly 30 years. He served in WWII (as part of the occupation), Korean War, Vietnam War and Thailand, parachuting from airplanes behind enemy lines. My Mom was born on Fort Campbell Kentucky and lived on Army bases all over the world – including on base in Germany during the 50s – when his family was allowed to accompany him. My grandfather fell in love with opera later in life when I knew him, but then lost nearly all of his hearing. He contracted Meniere’s disease which gave him excruciating pain behind his eyes until one of them was eventually removed and replaced with a glass eye. He lost my grandmother to dementia years before he died. He fought cancer numerous times, and finally lost his final battle to esophageal cancer in his 80s. Before he passed, the tumor was so severe that it closed off the base of his esophagus to his stomach, forcing him to feed himself through a tube in his abdomen. And, I have intentionally omitted events of his personal life that are too private to share here.
Just one of these events or afflictions could have caused my grandfather’s attitude to be cynical and defeated. And, of course I’m not pretending that he didn’t have dark moments. But my grandfather was one of the kindest people I have ever known. He would have given the shirt off his back for anyone (and did). He always put other people’s concerns ahead of his own.
We are all more strong and resilient than we know. It starts with being grateful every day for the gifts we’ve been given. In times of transition, or in the midst of difficult projects (the valley of despair) I try to remind myself of everything for which I am grateful.
You are not alone
Despite all of these struggles, my grandfather had the fortune to marry his best friend. His resilience wasn’t rugged individualism. It was the product of a strong foundation he built in partnership with my grandmother. My grandparents shared everything with each other. They trusted and supported one another through difficult times.
In moments of my own life that demand tenacity and resilience, I am reminded that I am not alone. I am strong because I have the foundation, love and support of my family, my friends, mentors and colleagues who have supported me through good times and bad. I am strong because I have been privileged to lead some of the smartest, most talented teams anywhere. I am married to the toughest, smartest, most creative woman I know – someone who has weathered incredibly dark storms with me. Someone who shares my sense of adventure and mischief, and who I trust with my life.
Recognizing that we are not alone is both humbling and empowering. It’s humbling because it forces us to acknowledge that we would not be where we are without a foundation. Your wins are not your own – your accomplishments are the product of your own efforts, combined with those who have held you up.
It’s empowering because you know that you are not alone. In addition to colleagues, friends and family, I have had incredible mentors who have helped me navigate difficult situations, and given me direction when it was difficult to chart a path forward. Those mentors have seen the grit and potential in me. They have believed in me. And, they’ve recognized that with some help, I could have a positive impact on a business, on the world.
Those leaders have had my back, and I do what I can to follow their example when others reach out to me for help.
Stay humble, and be genuine
My grandfather was self-effacing. He never called attention to himself. He didn’t have an attitude of entitlement or self pity, and never once was he boastful. He was honest and genuine. My grandfather looked out for the families around him, and he worked incredibly hard to get the best out of people. He wasn’t chasing a title or a paycheck. Perhaps he had experienced too much firsthand to believe that truly mattered.
I used to get up at 5 AM, just so I could sit for hours as the sun came up on the porch, listening to my grandfather talk about his experiences in Vietnam, Korea and Thailand. He would tell me about the difficult decisions that he would have to make in order to keep men in his care safe. And whereas he demanded respect, he was never above the least of them.
I think of my own leadership style as a foundation – like a building or a house. When foundations work well, you never think about them. They’re literally in the basement, but they provide the structure with everything it needs to function. You can build a strong, tall building on a sound foundation without ever stopping to think about what it’s built on. To me – that is a life well led. Foundations naturally provide guidelines and limitations. You can’t build too far out where the foundation doesn’t exist. You can’t build too high unless the foundation supports it. Foundational leaders don’t need to be disciplinarians, micromanagers or despots.
Foundational leaders also teach through example. They too require respect, but they are honest and transparent about their own weaknesses. Their own faults and shortcomings. If for no other reason, you can’t confidently rely on a foundation and build a strong structure without understanding how the limitations of your foundation may limit the structure.
I put my energy into clearing barriers, providing essential tools (just as a foundation provides electricity, water and gas) and building up. I put my energy into seeing potential in people where others couldn’t. To empowering teams. To allowing team members’ ideas be their own, and letting them own their successes. (Words you will never hear out of a foundational leader: “no email goes to the CEO without me reviewing it first.” Hire people you trust, trust the people you hire.) If a foundational leader is doing their job right, then you should see a highly functioning team and hardly know they’re there. If I am doing my job right, you see Product Managers, Marketing Managers and Engineers promoted and moving on to be Directors and CEOs in their own right. To own the potential they had all along.
A little reflection
When I was 17, I flew from my family’s home in Paris to Boston, and I stayed with my grandparents in Revere before heading up to spend a summer at the University of Vermont. As I passed through Charles de Gaulle, I bought a case of Marlboro 100s (which were my favorite) at the duty free that I intended to smoke over the summer.
The next morning over bacon and eggs, my grandfather told me how proud he was of me. How I kept my head down, worked hard, didn’t get myself into (too much) trouble, and made good decisions. Did he know more than he was letting on? I still have no clue. But I sure as hell felt the hot shame creep up over my face at his breakfast table.
I am a far cry from perfect, and I have made all kinds of bad decisions in my life. But these moments in our lives give us an opportunity to reflect on the type of person we want to become. To think about the impact we want to have on the world. And given the chance to reflect this week, I want nothing more than to be the type of man my grandfather would be proud of.
