Awareness is not an emergency

They will boil whether you’re watching or not. In fact, you should keep an eye on them. (Image by David Mark)

The realization hit me before my eyes even opened on the morning after the conference. It was like a voice from someone else, somewhere else, even though it was my own.

The voice said, “It’s time to close The Little Middle School.”

I was jet-lagged, sleep-deprived, and dehydrated after several days at more than 7,000 feet above sea level in Mexico City. I had blog post to write and a plane to catch. But this was the truth, radiating its inescapable light and heat, and it could not be ignored.

However, though this truth was not to be ignored, it did have to wait. After all, I did have a blog post to write and a plane to catch. And after that, I had to process what this insight meant and how to move forward. I had to consult with others, develop a plan, and carry it out. Now, more than six months later, the plan is almost complete.

There was a time in my life when I would bury a bright, shining truth because I was too afraid to deal with it.

I have also had times when I felt compelled to act on my feelings immediately and believed that to do otherwise would be a lapse of integrity.

It’s true that when you realize that it’s time to quit a job, end a relationship, have a difficult conversation, move to a new city, or make some other decision, you’ll have to take action. You’ll have to do something about it.

That doesn’t mean you have to do something RIGHT THEN.

It becomes an integrity issue if you never do anything about it. However, it’s not a lapse of integrity to slow down, make a plan, and prepare to act.

Decisions often have gestational periods. When people decide to get married, they usually don’t do it right away — they get engaged. When they decide to have a child, they have at least several months of waiting before the child arrives. A home buyer has a due diligence phase.

If we are unable to tolerate the uncertainty of the liminal state between recognizing that a an action is to be taken and taking that action, we will likely react with impulsivity. We have to understand that our discomfort with the awareness of what needs to be done doesn’t mean that we need to do the thing now. Our awareness is not an emergency.

When I realized that I needed to close my school, my stomach roiled with anxiety. I had some emotional work to do before I could do anything else. After I had made peace with the decision, which took a couple of days, I was able to work out the logistics, which took a few weeks. Only then was I able to make the announcement and follow through with the plan.

Did it feel weird to walk through my school the day after I got back from Mexico City, knowing already that it was over? Yeah. I felt a little like I was lying as I interacted with students. But I wasn’t lying — I was working out the details of the transition. To include twelve-year-olds in that process would not have been appropriate.

Declining to share information that might be confusing or upsetting isn’t necessarily evasive or paternalistic — it’s courteous. My aim was to make sure people had the information they needed, when they needed it. If it felt weird to be a step ahead, well, that’s part of the deal when it comes to leadership.

People didn’t need to know the school was closing on the day it first occurred to me — and the school didn’t need to close on that day, either. I was simply setting in motion a process that would unfold in due course.

When there is a dawning awareness of some change that needs to be made, you do not have to make the change immediately. Armed with this new awareness, you can watch and wait, looking for a good moment to take the next step. Sometimes there is urgency, but not always.

Even if a revision or revolution is long overdue, you may still have to bide your time. You may still have to be patient and let things play out before you have your opening to step forward. It may take mere seconds, or it might take years. When the time is right, you’ll know. Waiting until then isn’t weakness — it’s wisdom.