I’ve always been jealous of anyone who could be called a force of nature. You know the type. Once they decide something is a problem, nothing and no one will prevent them from fixing it. That’s not me. I lose steam without validation, encouragement, or fine I’ll say it: permission.
I was talking about it with my coach last week. I told him one of my goals is to become a force of nature. So of course, like any annoyingly good coach would do, he asked me to define it. I said something like “a hurricane but instead of destroying things, I’m fixing things.”
Then he hit me with a one-two punch:
- Punch one: Hurricanes aren’t the only forces of nature. They imply chaos and unpredictability, which isn’t my style. Maybe by aiming to be a hurricane, I’m trying to be someone I’m not.
- Punch two: A river is a force of nature too. Rivers are steady and consistent and reliable. But if you throw a rock in there, the water will calmly go around it.
And hey, there’s nothing wrong with being the hurricane. I’ve worked with hurricanes before. They move around with flurries of action, production insane amounts of value wherever they appear.
But that’s not me. I can still be a force of nature by being a river. The “just do things” principle still applies, but it matches my style: consistent and incremental. Be a river.