What if I’ve just made a HUGE mistake?
I’ve just made a major, irreversible change to my professional life. There’s no going back to being the principal flutist of the Boston Symphony Orchestra.
Ever.
What if I wake up one day and realize I’ve made a big mistake?
This ^^ is the question that could keep me up at night.
But it doesn’t.
Not because I have a crystal ball and can guarantee that 1, 5, or 10 years from now I won’t look back at my decision to step down from the BSO and wonder if maybe I should have stayed. I might!
It’s because, at this point in my life, after plenty of big decisions that have taken me to unexpected places, I’ve learned to trust my future self — and to trust how she will deal with the results of my choices.
Whether it's making a major business decision, deciding to start a family (or not to), choosing to leave a big job … life is full of risk.
Especially a life lived fully and boldly.
Big decisions often require a leap into the abyss. And we simply do not have the power to guarantee the outcome. But we do have the power to shape our response when things don’t go as planned; when that big scary leap dumps us on our butt, hard; when the risk doesn’t pan out.
“What if one day I see this all as a big mistake?” comes up for my clients, too.
And it might even come up for you, sometimes?
This question can paralyze us before a decision, and it can take up a lot of mental and emotional space after we’ve made the decision, too.
When clients ask this question we slow down and we play it out. We don’t focus on predicting external outcomes. Rather, we ask questions like, “If this risk doesn’t pay off, how will you talk to yourself? If you discover that the other side of that decision looks different from what you imagined, what version of yourself will be there to guide you?”
How will you meet yourself, in the face of regret or disappointment?
Will you show up as a supportive partner, or will you beat yourself up with your own personal version of “you are such an idiot.”
When clients make big decisions I help them to create agreements with themselves. They make an agreement that no matter the outcome, they will have their own back. They agree to remind themselves that they made the best possible decision they could at the time, with the information they had at hand.
Hindsight is 20/20. We can agree not to weaponize that clarity.
We can also agree to remind ourselves that we are resilient, resourceful and that we will regroup.
These agreements (and the willingness to practice them) allow us to come back to the present, to focus on what’s right in front of us, and to let go and trust that we can handle whatever’s next.
These agreements definitely don't protect us from falling on our butts. But they limit the “ouch” to just the fall. We don’t compound the injury with harsh self-judgment.
Of course it’s important to look back and learn from our mistakes. But it’s pretty darn hard to get curious when we’re feeling defensive and attacked. It's a lot easier to learn when we’re not berating ourselves.
These are the agreements I have with myself. This is why I’m not afraid of a day when I might look back and think that, given whatever has since unfolded, maybe this risk was bigger than I realized.
This is why I’m calm, even after having taken a big (and scary) leap.
(That, plus the fact that I absolutely love my coaching work and my days are immensely rewarding.)
INVITATION TO REFLECT: What would it look like for you to partner with yourself differently the next time you take a risk? What might be possible if you did?