A couple of months ago, I wrote about what my daughter was teaching me about high performance. At the time she was three weeks old.
Now she is a few months old, and lessons keep coming thick and fast. So much so in fact, that this article will probably pose more questions that offer answers.
On a walk with her the other day two lessons became clearer. This article is my way of clarifying those thoughts. (That's why I started writing articles in the first place).
The Daily Struggle
Being a parent for the first time is a challenge. This experience, in the midst of a global pandemic, only adds to that.
But the lockdown has afforded me some wonderful opportunities. I have been able to spend more time on the job of Dad than I ever would have in 'normal' life. At the time of writing, there has never been a day of her life where I have not been with her.
This is a blessing - make no mistake. In the fullness of time, only good things will come out of this time for me and my family. We will be closer, because we had more time to forge greater bonds of connection.
But there is one part of being a Dad that I have found to be particularly draining. I have only now put my finger on what it is. It is the balance of being a great Dad and doing great work all at the same time.
I am nowhere close to having the answer to this. I'm working on it daily. I am both succeeding at it, and failing at it, on a minute-to-minute basis.
The Prize Fight. In the Red Corner... In the Blue Corner...
The nature of the conflict is that there are now two sides to my identity.
The pre-existing side (The Incumbent) is the Ambitious me. I am an A-Type. I do like to be busy. I like to feel productive. I love my work and it is important to me. So much so that I can be really quite selfish about how I spend my time doing it.
The newer, but no less robust, side of me is the Dad (The Challenger). I also love my daughter, and want to be present in her life (literally, mentally and emotionally). I know that my time with her is finite. All too soon she will have zero interest in spending time with me.
Both go to war - every minute of every day. And both have strong cases to make.
The Ambitious me reasons that more work equates to more money which makes me a good Provider.
The Dad in me responds. It points out the fleeting passage of time, and the importance of this first year of her life to bond.
(You may have reached this point in the article and are now hoping for a glistening insight. Alas, you're in for a disappointment. But if you have the answer - please let me know.)
But on that walk I had two thoughts, that make the struggle easier, and (I hope), will make me a better Dad and a better Coach.
A more honest relationship with Imperfection
I and many A-Typers I know spend most of our energy trying to be perfect. It is the lofty goal we pursue (because maybe one day we will be the one to reach it).
We won't. Perfect doesn't exist.
What does exist is ever expanding levels of 'better'.
When your principal concern is your own wellbeing, you can just about evade this truth.
Being a Dad has made that impossible.
I aim to make the right choice for my daughter both now and for the long-term. The wrong choice could affect her in unimaginable ways.
I have quickly realised that perfection in parenthood (and life) simply cannot be done. There are too many variables. Too much subjectivity. Too much you cannot hope to control.
Even if we were only Parents (no work, no running a house, no exercising) - we still wouldn't be perfect, because we are human.
There is good news in this. Once you truly make that realisation, things become easier and potential becomes greater. Because now your measure of success is not the right choice, but the best choice. Now you can direct your energy away from chasing perfect, and into doing the best you can do.
As long as you're doing your best, you can allow yourself to rest easier.
And that brings me to my second thought
Potential - destination or guide?
In the world of coaching, 'potential' is a key theme. It is the basis for the whole Craft. It is what drives humans forward.
We speak about potential as a destination or fixed location.
"Reaching your potential"
"Discovering your potential"
"Achieving your potential".
I agree with this.
Potential is a horizon that we can only reach if we move towards it - it will not come to us.
We also tend to think about it as a personal thing. Something within us. (And it is). But the external can have potential as well. The potential of a team. The potential of a creative piece.
And the potential of a moment.
I said before that I want to be present for my daughter. But that is hard to do when I'm tired or stressed. (And as a new parent I'm finding I spend most of my time either tired or stressed).
But a combination of these two questions are helping me at the moment:
"What is the potential of this moment?"
"What is my potential at this moment?"
The two questions are similar, but different.
The first question asks what is the best that this particular moment could be. A free morning with the sun shining has the potential of a quiet coffee if my daughter is asleep. Or a Daddy-Daughter walk if she is not. (The coffee can wait, or be taken with us.)
The second question asks what is the best I can do at this particular moment. My best will be different when I'm relaxed and rested than when I'm tired and stressed. But if I identify what my best is, and do it, I can at least feel reassured that I did so.
This is all just a lighthouse
Neither of these questions is a panacea. For this idea to follow through, and to be of benefit for my daughter, I must be honest and accountable to myself.
But they do offer a guide, just like the two ideas I have just written about. They offer something of a lighthouse in mist weather, minute to minute, on what the best choice I can make might be. That helps me feel more like I'm on the right path.
Plus they keep both Prizefighters in the corner for a few minutes.