Roman Emperor and Stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius said: “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.”
There are so many ways in which I find this perspective useful when approaching change. One is to see change as the mountain that needs to be scaled in order to achieve desired outcomes. From this perspective, the bigger the change, the more ominous the mountain. But just like mountain climbing, you prepare and plan before setting out. You also identify the plateaus. You don’t master a really big mountain, or a really big change, in one non-stop charge forward.
Each plateau is a place to rest, to recharge, to reassess the path you are on and where it is taking you. It can be the place to replenish your resources and your spirits — the place to not only look ahead at the next big challenges but also to look back at what has been accomplished. It can be the place to celebrate both the successes that have been achieved and the mistakes that have been overcome.
One thing a plateau is not, however, is a destination, unless you choose to make it one. All too often, organizational leaders get to a plateau, plant the victory flag, and declare success, even though they are far from the outcomes that they claimed necessitated the change in the first place.
There are certainly legitimate reasons to terminate a change before it has been completed. Perhaps the external environment has shifted, and the change no longer makes sense or is no longer possible. Maybe the resources necessary are much greater than thought and are just not available. Perhaps leadership has lost its commitment or its will. To terminate the change under these circumstances may be exactly the right thing to do. But to claim success is disingenuous; it is exactly the type of action that causes followers to lose trust in their leaders.
My trip to the Himalayan Mountains of northern India involved a series of two-day treks with layovers in between. We drove between the ending point of one trek and the starting point of the next. The day before we set out on that first trek, we each declared our intention for this Himalayan pilgrimage. I carried a small journal with me, trying to capture my thoughts throughout the day and recording them at night. Early in the journey, I wrote, “Sometimes the only thought can be, ‘Where do I plant my walking pole, where is my next step? Where do I plant my pole for the support I need and so it doesn’t get wedged? Where do I plant my foot so there is a place to plant my next foot?’" Mentally, physically and spiritually, this was one of my life’s most challenging experiences. It was both literally and figuratively the mountain I needed to scale.
The morning we prepared to leave the guest house to travel to our second trek, four of my fellow journeyers declared they were ending their journey. One had mindlessly wandered off the trail while daydreaming and had rolled down an embankment; although he only suffered minor bruises, he didn’t feel safe continuing. Another conceded that he was not physically prepared for the challenges; he didn’t have what was required to continue. In both cases, while we were saddened by their departure, we appreciated the integrity of the reason given for the decision.
The other two took a different approach. Much like the organizational leader who reaches a plateau in a change initiative and declares success rather than continuing the journey, they each stated, “I have proven to myself that I could do this, so I don’t need to continue.” We had all declared our intentions at the outset; no one had set out to stop part-way through. This explanation, while self-justifying and perhaps even believed by those who spoke it, rang hollow with the rest. We had heard their intentions. We had seen them struggle just as we struggled. We knew that whatever their reason for stopping at that point, the claim of victory was hollow.
The rest of us continued the journey. Along the way, we encountered a landslide that took out the road and delayed us for a day. I became violently ill from some form of food poisoning. We crossed over Gaumukh, the glacier that is the source of the Ganges main tributary. We climbed Tapovan, reaching the summit at 14,640 feet above sea level. We experienced a major accident as the trek leader was struck by a boulder that broke loose on the way down, shattering his femur hours from the nearest assistance. But in the end, we each scaled our own mountain. We each had taken our obstacles and turned them into the way in which we found victory. We each returned a different person than we were when we set out.
As a leader, approach each plateau with integrity. Take advantage of the opportunities it provides for restoration, replenishment and reflection. Decide whether the change journey will continue, or whether it is time to end it. Then whatever that decision, communicate it honestly. Doing so, whatever the decision, will strengthen the loyalty that your followers have as you prepare to take them into the next big change.
