Every year at about this time I take a weeklong sojourn to a far-off place to ride horses. Then I come back and share something about what I learned that may apply to all of us.
This year was the same—yet incredibly different in every significant way. The ride was called the Long Ride, advertised as a “Sahara Desert Horseback Adventure”. I took this month-long trip to ride over 570 miles (which means about 24 miles a day for the 24 riding days) across the desert in Morocco from the western border of Algeria to the eastern seaboard at White Beach just south of Agadir. And instead of it being a quick, lighthearted adventure pursuing my passion, it was a grueling physical and mental experience that challenged every aspect of my being. From sunup to well after dark we had a schedule of preparation, riding, camping and dining that didn’t conclude until after 10pm each night. I felt a bit like an Oregon Trail video game participant who had to figure out how to navigate what lay ahead with only what I had brought with me, and hoped I survived. A bit dramatic to be sure but every day we were faced with new travails, some uncertain trails, changing weather conditions and new challenges.
While I rode with 9 fellow riders, I spent most of my time on a journey of one, alone—either on horseback or in my tent. My horse had a thing about riding beside other horses—he didn’t like it and avoided it so not much daytime conversation with others besides lunch. We each camped in individual tents big enough for a sleeping bag and a suitcase, so after bedding down horses we usually retired to our own tents to prepare for the next day, until dinnertime which was served around 9pm. We then dragged ourselves to bed to rest up for another long day to follow.
The number one question I get is, “Was it fun?”. All of my trips have had various degrees of fun and it has been a mainstay of every ride, until this one. For this one, fun wouldn’t be one of the top ten words I would use to describe it. Just before the trip ended the whole group went around in a circle and talked about why they joined this ride. All the answers were some variation of “to prove to myself I could do it” and/or “to get a reset” after a retirement, a relationship ended or just being at loose ends with their current path. They varied in age from mid 20’s to mid 60’s but we were a team, all there for essentially the same reasons. I joined because I wanted the challenge—I had no doubt I could handle the riding as I do endurance rides and had just completed a 50-mile race before Thanksgiving. Long hours in the saddle weren’t a concern. But camping, I don’t really care for, and being cold is usually a nonstarter for me. So, no warmth, baths, flushing toilets, wine, or consistent hygiene, and we were there during Morocco’s winter which is cold at night (mid 30 degrees) but warmed up during the day. In our case we were told to expect 60’s and it got to 80’s. Note to self, needed clothes that were not so warm!
Camping was point to point as we moved to a different campsite every night and we had a crew of 5 who helped set up and tear down camp, (dining tent, cooking tent, shower tent and toilet tent) and provide our meals. Those of you who love to camp probably thought that it was glamping. For the brave there were warm bucket showers available in the evenings, but by then the temps were mostly in the 50s and below. It took us a week to figure out how to operate the porta potty so most of us never used it. I can count the number of times I have slept in a sleeping bag (in or out of a tent) on one hand, so it was definitely a different way for me to live. And we did it long enough that it became a lifestyle, not just an experience!
So why do it? I am not really sure. I think I felt if one week is good then four weeks is better; I expected it to be fun at least part of the time and figured I could put up with some discomfort to show how tough I am for a few weeks. Yes, I could prove that I was determined, persistent, and disciplined. By now, if you are like my family, you are probably laughing because you realize I didn’t have to go anywhere to prove that!
So what did I bring back with me besides a few sore muscles, a cracked cell phone screen, sand in every crevice of my suitcase and orifice of my body? Two things: I did bring back a feeling of accomplishment. There are now 20 people in the world who have done this, and I am one of them. But the second thing, the thing I didn’t expect, was I brought back myself.
In those hours where I was by myself thinking about the world, issues that I would have to deal with when I returned, and how life has turned out, I had an awakening. I made a commitment to deepen my connection to my values and to live my life according to them even better and more out loud than I ever have.
In the desert everything was stripped down to the essentials. The clothes on our backs, the elements, finding our way, the steadfastness of the horses and sustenance. Not much room for anything else. It is amazing how when you are at your raw essence you discover what really matters. Day-to-day we get caught up in living, making decisions, taking positions, solving problems, acquiring things, and navigating challenges. We want to do the right thing. But what is that? Did I even know who I was and what mattered the most to me? Was I consistent with how I approach life and decisions? Could I name my values and honestly say I honored them in everything I did? Can you?
If you are reading this you are part of this tribe, and if you are one of our tribe, then I already know you work hard, and like me, try to do the right thing every day. Like attracts like. The question is, do we know what that is—for us? Personally? Individually? Do we live our values every day?
For me, there are things I now know I want to spend more time doing and learning. There are things I don’t want to be a part of anymore. And there is a greater need for significance—to make a difference in a positive way for others. I didn’t return with souvenirs and a bunch of fun stories. I returned with a pared down list of values of what really matters. And it is not things. We lived simply for 30 days. I wore the same clothes, ripped and torn, over and over because I didn’t pack all the right things. And my tent was my castle for 30 days and I actually grew to like it—the solitude, my layout organized just so, and crawling into the sleeping bag with nothing to worry about but getting a good night’s sleep. It is also not to make life easier. I struggled through sandstorms and weather hotter than we expected. We rode through some sketchy places, took our horses through questionable creeks, walked for miles on rocks, found our way around mountains, and rode around dams through a two-foot opening beside a cliff. All in a day’s ride.
My big takeaway is I am blessed beyond measure. I have been given the most awesome gifts life can offer—a spiritual leader, family, a curious thirst for learning, a wide variety of experiences to help me grow and develop professionally and personally—so in turn, I can invest in others. It is that simple. From here on out, my goal is to make others’ lives better. It starts with my family of course, my friends, my clients, my community, and many I have yet to meet. Decisions become easier. Can I help make it better? Will my involvement make a difference? What will be better if I do it?
Where and how I spend my time is guided by those things. Now that seems underwhelming, I am sure. I would like to believe there is no real surprise in that. But the truth is how much of our time is spent doing things we “should” do, going through the motions, doing things others expect of us? Do we live authentic lives, or do we just try to live good lives? And who defines good? Or better? Do you really know who you are and what you want to contribute? Can you imagine a world where instead of doing what we want, we make a difference?
I just finished reading an article in the Harvard Business Review titled, The Power of Strategic Fit, The Seven Essential Elements of Strategic Success, by Rigby and First, both partners in Bain & Company. It is about aligning operational priorities with strategic direction. Novel, huh? Not really. Strategically every company is always challenged to walk the talk of their strategy. There is a gap between what companies say and what they do. The only question is, how big is the gap? The article defines strategic fit as “the degree of alignment and amount of synergy in a company’s business system.” To be frank, that is the concept underneath GrowthDNA™. Doing the things that lead to growth in an aligned and sustainable way. The seven essentials defined aren’t new either but they are described differently than in our model.
Strategic fit is usually the true north of the company. Where do they ideally want to go? But unfortunately, current circumstances, capabilities and cash flow take them in different or non-aligning directions. Just as it happens to companies, it happens to us. We lose sight of what matters most; we find ourselves stretched too thin and doing good things but not making a difference.
In people as in companies, if we are to be effective, we must focus. Our focus is not the same as the person or company on our right or left. It is authentic to each of us. Once defined, only pursuing those things that are pure, a “fit”, that accomplish what matters, will take us along the path that is our purpose.
There is an interesting phenomenon I have observed. The best leaders are authentic people who desire to make others’ lives better. They genuinely care beyond the outcome for the company to the people who must make it happen and create alignment between the two. And because they are authentic, there is buy-in and trust. Call it a two-fer. Being a more authentic person, true to your values, and working in a space that enables that strength, will yield big dividends for many. Will the real you please stand up? What difference will you make?
