The First Major Breakdown

I previously mentioned receiving a call from Cindy while I was in Cozad, Nebraska, telling me about yet another car issue. I can’t remember what the problem was that time, but I don’t remember it being significant - at least not mechanically. At that point, though, even the most minor issue created a tremendous strain on both our budget and our mental health. Interestingly enough, that car was reliable overall. The sunroof was a tremendous pain, but only when it rained. Even with me being such a cheapskate on my breakfast and lunch choices, our finances then would have had to improve before we could have referred to them as just scarce. We were so broke we could barely pay attention! Replacing wiper blades or changing oil required planning ahead; getting a new battery bordered on financial ruin.

While I can’t remember the conversation, I remember the feeling it created. I remember where I stood, in the hallway of the town library - because the plant I was supporting didn’t have a viable space to host the training session I was conducting. In most cases, that would have resulted in renting a conference room in one of the local hotels. I was staying at the Best Value Inn, the only motel in town. There wasn’t even a McDonald’s; the one that had operated there previously shut down years prior and was converted into a used car dealership. I share that specificity not to knock Cozad, the people were wonderful, but to detail the impact that phone call had. My lodging and the re-purposed McDonald’s were leagues above the feeling of helpless I felt from not being able to do a damn thing to help Cindy in that moment.

When a single breakdown happens at the worst possible time, the real adversity isn’t the car - it’s realizing our resources (time, money, presence) are far more limited than we thought. I’d love to say this was the only example I could share like this. There were dozens, and they weren’t isolated to car issues. At one point, I started calling our lawnmower a “Fred-bilt” because my dad had done far more work to that thing than Troy ever did. Replacing belts, sharpening blades, and the occasional weld to keep it all together were all cheaper than buying a new mower, but even those small costs added to the strain. And God forbid a dog got sick…

As emotionally exhausting as it was to fight through any one of those things, each served as seeds for learning the importance of making sure every decision yielded return on investment. Not only was my HR manager holding me accountable to show that in my professional role, I was living through it personally every day. That certainly served as experience I could draw from in writing What’s KILLING Your Profitability?, but those years of scarcity were crucial in helping us dial in on our clear purpose. Resource failures expose the illusion of control; facing them head-on reveals the first seeds of mastery of detail and self-control. Without those two leadership attributes, even the clearest purpose is little more than a wish. To hone them, we need to identify the patterns behind any ongoing issues. We’ll look into that more next. Before that, I’ll challenge you to think about a time when a “small” resource failure blindsided you. Jot down the immediate emotions and one detail you wish you had tracked better beforehand.