“Impossible only means that you haven’t found the solution yet.”
— Jim Rohn
In the following story, I put into action some advice I originally heard from business great Peter Legge. At that time, in 1998, I was leading a $200 million desktop lifecycle business (Desktop Lifecycle services are all about completely owning the customer’s I.T. infrastructure environment and charging a simple recurring operating expense each month while lifting the I.T. expense off the customer’s balance sheets).
It was the beginning of the new fiscal year, so I was rolling out the new targets for the team to achieve. We had just come off a fantastic growth year, and our expectations were to do much the same level of business during the coming twelve months.
I had the team together in a meeting room. I put up on a screen a slide showing the revenue forecast that needed to be delivered for the coming year. Well, you would have thought that I had asked people to rock by rock disassemble Mount Everest, move the pieces to Antarctica, and reassemble it rock by rock. The moans and groans! The excuses! “There is not enough market out there to support that kind of revenue. We don’t have enough resources. That’s too hard in this economy. We pulled out all the growth opportunities last year. Customers are getting too cost conscious. The competition is charging way less than we are. Inflation is too high…” The complaining went on and on. Despite my reasoning that the research had been done and the target was very achievable, no one was listening.
Finally, after about fifteen minutes, I calmly interrupted and said, “Go get your car keys and meet me in the parking lot in five minutes.” I packed up my meeting material and left the room.
Even though what I was about to do was pushing the edge of leadership sanity, my team members needed a shake-up in their thinking. I went to my office, grabbed my jacket and car keys, and walked out to the parking lot.
Minutes later, the entire team had assembled in the parking lot. Still looking dazed and confused, they stood around my car and continued with the questions and complaining. I stuck my head out the car window, said, “Get in your cars and follow me,” and drove away.
I drove very slowly out of the parking lot—constantly checking my rearview mirror to see whether they would follow. They were dutifully, albeit reluctantly, falling into formation behind me. Out on the street, I led a procession of ten cars on a journey of left and right turns and right and left turns. We winded our way through commercial areas and residential streets. All along, I kept checking my mirror and controlling my speed so everyone could keep up. Like a mother duck leading her newborn babies to water, we wandered through the community for about twenty minutes.
Once I was completely satisfied that the team was thoroughly frustrated with the seemingly pointless journey, we arrived at the Royal Oak Cemetery. I stopped my car, got out, and started to walk into the cemetery. I casually checked over my shoulder to see whether they were still following me. They were. About 100 meters into the pristine park-like setting, I stopped on a hill overlooking most of the expansive cemetery. It was a beautiful winter morning in Vancouver. The sun was shining. A light fog hung over the cemetery’s lower end. It was surprisingly warm for January. One-by-one, the team strolled up beside me. When the last one arrived, an irritated and outspoken team member blurted out, “Okay, Bob, what is this all about?” I raised my hand in front of me and slowly let it roll across the landscape of headstones. Then I replied, with almost a whisper, “You see all those people out there? Every one of them would gladly change places with you in an instant. Do you think we could focus on what a great team we have? On how we have an amazing product, solid financial backing, a very loyal customer base, and figure out how we are going to make it work this year to the best of our ability?”
You could have heard a pin drop onto the dew covered grass. Reality hit home for each and every one of them. Most of us, including you reading this book, have it really good. We have a great life. A home to go to. Food in the refrigerator. Family and friends who love us dearly and cannot imagine life without us. The beauty of life for most of us is that we have the ability to choose to be the very best at what we do. Or, we can choose to wallow in selfpity and focus on why things will not work versus using our unlimited brainpower to make them happen.
After a few minutes of quiet reflection, I turned and walked back to my car. Every one silently followed. When I arrived back at the office, I went into the meeting room where we had started that morning. Within minutes, everyone had joined me. Some thanked me. It was like a brand new day. Charged with a fresh outlook and new energy, we got down to the task of planning how we were going to achieve our target without even a hint of negativity.
People in general will usually take the path of least resistance. It is in our DNA to save time and energy. Sometimes, that comes out in the form of pushback and negative energy. It is a leader’s job, however, to see that and push through it, building compelling visions for the organization to follow— to inspire them to go where they would not normally go on their own. Sometimes, a leader really has to push the boundaries to show everyone on the team just how capable he or she really is.
That year, we achieved 160 percent of the forecasted target we were given.
How do you respond to seemingly impossible challenges that are put in front of you?