"Wow, you did good..." Words you do not want to hear from your orthopedic doctor as he comes into the examining room after looking at your MRI. Especially not when he is shaking his head and smiling. If I am going to do something, I guess I just do it all the way. Including injuries. Three weeks ago, I woke up late because I was exhausted and did not set my alarm properly the night before. As I was walking downstairs, carrying my dog in her crate (as I always used to do), I was thinking about a million things and I fell down the stairs. I'm not sure how it happened, but I destroyed my meniscus on both sides of my knee beyond repair and cracked my bone. On Friday, two weeks after the accident, I had surgery.
I feel like I have lost an entire month of my life. October feels like a blur because for a large part of it, I have been having to take it easy. I'm writing this from my bed, with my knee propped up, hooked to my ice machine.
I'm learning that it is not so bad to be the slow one in the store, the neighborhood or around the church. I get the chance to speak to more people and more people speak to me because I don't look like I'm in such a hurry.
I'm learning to let people help. My parents have had to stay with me for much of the last month to help me. Everywhere I go, I need help because I just cannot do it all. I have been pleasantly surprised by humanity, with the rare exception, as I've had people open doors for me or offer extra help and concern. I need to allow others to take care of me...at least occasionally.
Vulnerability is not easy for leaders. The truth is that some we lead will never be able to fully connect with us until we allow them to help us. We must wear our confidence and our competence in a manner that allows our humanity to show. We cannot be authentic leaders without our humanity.
So...take some time to slow down. Let someone else go first. Slow your pace. Allow someone to care for you. You never know how much it may mean to both of you.