Pedro was a man who believed his work was of the utmost importance. Every day, even on weekends, he arrived at his office before dawn, ready to tackle the day’s challenges with an iron will. Pedro’s job, in his eyes, was not merely a job. It was a mission. He worked for a large corporation, managing a team responsible for a critical project that could determine the company’s future. At least, that’s what Pedro told himself and his wife as he canceled their seventh straight date night.
Pedro’s dedication was unparalleled. He drove his team relentlessly, pushing them to meet deadlines which they often did through sheer force of will. He was convinced that his team’s success — even the entire company’s success — depended entirely on his ability to control every aspect of the project. His personal mantra: “I can sleep when I die.”
As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, something began to shift. The more Pedro pushed, the more his team seemed to resist. Tensions rose, mistakes became more frequent and severe, and the project began to fall behind schedule. Instead of easing his grip, Pedro tightened it further, convinced that he could will the project to success through his determination alone.
On the first cold day in October, Pedro was called into the CEO’s office. He expected praise for his tireless efforts, but instead, he was met with the unexpected: he was fired.
Pedro was stunned!
“I’ve given everything to this project!” He practically shouted at the CEO. “I’ve worked harder than anyone.”
The CEO sighed. “Pedro, no one doubts your dedication, but sometimes, working harder isn’t the solution. You’ve driven your team to burnout. Nobody wants to work for you anymore. I had three people from your team give notice this week. Your unrelenting push has become a burden to everyone around you.”
The CEO stood and excused Pedro with a note that his personal belongings would be shipped to his home.
Pedro left the office, wandering in a daze.
How could this have happened?
At times, there is likely a bit of Pedro in all of us. In certain respects, I’m a willful person. Using sometimes extreme measures, I’ve gone long seasons of my life sleeping little more than 3 or 4 hours per night. The last marathon-length run I did was on 3 hours of sleep and a pulled muscle.
Make no mistake. There’s nothing heroic about what I did. It was foolish. There’s a real risk of injury that takes a long time to heal when you do something like that.
On the flip side, we often find inspiration in the stories of people who do the impossible with single-minded focus. Michael Phelps is a favorite example because of what he accomplished in the 2008 Olympics. Then, he kept doing it over and over again.
But, at what cost? It’s hard to have much of a life outside of training when you’re trying to break your own records all the time.
In 2016, Phelps officially retired, though he still maintains that with enough training he could be competitive against anyone in the pool. However, the cost is not worth it to him anymore. Rather than swim relentlessly, he’s chosen to be involved in philanthropic efforts and to spend time with his family.
Ryan Holiday recently wrote, “We think that to be great at what you do requires complete and total dedication. That there’s no time for anything else.
“Nonsense.”
He also shared the poignant story of Prince Albert, the husband of Queen Victoria, who literally worked himself to death. Holiday then posits a question:
Is that what you want to be? A workhorse that draws its load until it collapses and dies, still shod and in the harness? Is that what you were put on this planet for?
Those are deep, existential kinds of questions.
Sometimes, it’s difficult to accept the reality that ending up in a place of too much willful will is always self-inflicted. Some people, in a fight just to make ends meet, make that choice out of a sense of duty to provide subsistence for the people they love.
For too many of us, however, it’s about pursuit of some vague ideal imposed by the society around us. In the 1900s (I’m from the 1900s), it was termed “keeping up with the Joneses.”
I often reflect on a sage bit of wisdom from a friend, that we are all running our own race. We’re not required to keep up with anyone. Of course, we can take personal care to an extreme just like anything else, but we do owe it to ourselves to care for ourselves first. That enables us to show up in more meaningful ways for the people around us.
The trouble of too much willful will is combated by, first, recognizing that the work we do is not so important that it’s worth sacrificing everything else for, and, two, that there are those around us who are eager to help lighten our load without unduly increasing their own.
I’ve been working on a development project for some time. For more than 20 years, I’ve been a DIY developer, leaning only on the non-interactive internet to help me solve my problems. Yesterday, for the first time, I engaged with a developer who has skills I don’t have but need.
I’ve known for some time that I needed to hire others to help, but my willful will has driven me to make an attempt at doing it all myself. My conversation yesterday truly opened my eyes to the idea that I can get more done by sharing the load with others.
Then, I can finally get out of the pool.
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