Blinded By My Own Ability

It was exactly the same feeling.
That feeling I experienced when launching my own business.

The wild possibilities dancing in my head.
The delirious excitement of impacting the world… my way.
The tasks already half complete before I clambered out of bed.

And there I was.
In charge. In control.

And that became the problem.
The blind spot.

This was not so much a business project…
as a community and church project.

But it was a big one.
International in its scope.
With a deposit already placed… £25,000… to hire part of Brighton University.

And I’d persuaded the Powers That Be to let me grab the reins.
“I’ve Got This.”

For 8 weeks… while running a thriving coaching business…
I directed and coordinated a country-wide team.

Bright, talented, technically whizzo young adults.
Ranging in age from 18 to 30.

With a brief to attract their peers from the UK and Europe.

This was going to be a big event.

Hundreds of conversations throughout evenings and weekends.
Virtual meeting after phone call after email after physical get-togethers.

Tough decisions to make.
Not always the most popular ones

I was on fire with ideas and creativity.
I could hardly sleep.

And then… just before the Friday launch of this International Convention…
I received my first angry phone call.

A member of the committee I’d formed.
Angry with me.

“Why didn’t you listen to the idea I proposed?
Can’t you see the problem we’re going to face as people arrive… from across Europe?”

And that was just the start.

“Your website brief was far too vague.
Now I’m getting complaints from people trying to book their rooms.

If you’d asked me… I would have told you there’s a better packaged solution!”

By the time that first night arrived…
I was ill.
Flu symptoms.
But I knew it was stress.

And the weekend’s Convention?

Well, it was a success.
Visiting dignitaries congratulated me.
There were hugs and “Thank You’s” from many bright young things.

But, when the dust had settled… I’d lost more than the praise I’d gained.
Trust. Respect.
Perhaps friendship.

And I had learned a painful lesson about being a Founder.
Being a Leader… others want to follow.
My strengths became my weakness.

My responsibility wasn’t to direct.
Was it?
Nor to be The Visionary.

My responsibility was to see this reality.

That their thinking mattered… because they mattered more than the success of the event.

The silence around the table was not them agreeing with me.
It was me not waiting for them to speak.

Reading this, you’re likely to be someone with the ability to sway others.
To persuade.
To direct.
To get things moving.

And perhaps that’s where the danger lies.

Because you can become so good at making things happen…
that you stop noticing what other people could make happen.