Why you need to be the pilot (and not just wander around the airport)
We need to talk about airplanes.
In early September, I was in a conference and a participant presented an airport metaphor that she used to help figure out where she is at in a relationship – On a layover? Boarding a plane? Going home or getting out of town?
And when I hear a metaphor or idea I like, I stretch is as far as I can and take it to the bank. (or in this case, the blog).
As someone who wants a big, full life and uses my ambition as a superpower, I have built my business helping other people do the same. I encourage people to embrace their ambition, instead of keeping it a secret. I support them as they find what they want, I shoulder their tears when it gets hard and they feel lonely, I help them ask for more and get really dreamy about the opportunities they want to pursue, and I cheerlead their successes, progress, and help them keep their eye on their prize.
To keep with the airport/airplane metaphor – I’ve got your passport and boarding pass at the ready! I’m at the information desk! I’m giving directions to the gate! I’m watching your luggage while you hit the bathroom! I’m easing your flying anxiety. And you betcha I’m grabbing you the best snacks (cherry blasters, nibs, hickory sticks)!
If you’re a helper – a coach, strategist, event planner – anyone who helps others, chances are, you’re a master of navigating the airport and helping your passengers, your clients.
And while you’re helping others catch their flight to where they want to go, I have to ask, when do you get to take off to your destination?
I have a feeling the answer is one of these three things:
1. I’ll catch my plane when the airport is empty, when I’ve helped all the passengers settle on to their own flights.
2. My plane isn’t ready yet, I need X months/years of more experience helping others before I can get on the plane for myself.
3. I’ll be on standby, and maybe if there’s a seat at 3:00am, I’ll get on that, but as long as I can be back in 24 hours to help others.
You’re so dedicated to your people, your clients, your fans, and you give them everything. And that means you get the scraps. You get the shitty seat on the terrible flight into the jankiest airport. And you arrive in exhaustion-ville with all the other martyrs who insist that everyone else’s travel plans are more important than your own.
It seems altruistic , and selfless, and you probably justify it by saying that this is your job, what fulfills you, and what makes you feel like you’re making a difference – you’re here for others, you want them to be successful.
And over time, you find that it’s getting harder to help someone’s fear of flying because it’s been ages since you’ve been on a plane.
It’s harder to relate to their experience, because you’ve been too busy helping others, that you haven’t had your own experience in awhile.
And it doesn’t mean you care less about your passengers, or that you don’t want to help them. It’s that while you’ve been fetching snacks and holding passports for others, it’s been awhile since you piloted your own plane. Your examples are a little outdated, you’re relying on the experiences of your clients because you have so few of your own.
You’re on a slippery slope to resentment. You’re going to resent your role, your clients, and every day that you’re at the help desk is another day that you’re not on the plane, getting to your next destination.
How long is that good enough for? How long can you maintain credibility and connect with the experiences and anxieties of your clients if you haven’t had your own experiences or anxieties? We’ve all heard the metaphor of putting on your own oxygen mask first, and yes, this matters. But sometimes, an oxygen mask isn’t enough. Because for people who want more, this isn’t about survival.
It’s time to get back in the cockpit (or in there for the first time!)
Fly your own plane.
Because while it is probably part of your identity to care for and help others, and we feel satisfied and validated, it doesn’t help you get what you want. And if you’re waiting for an invitation, here it is:
I invite you to fly your own plane, and trust that you aren’t the only one who can run the help desk, or the currency exchange, or recommend good snacks. Your destination matters too.
PS. I’ve always had an affinity for airports, and have considered a plane being my next tattoo. There is a section from the book Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close that gives me goosebumps and makes me weep.
“I like to see people reunited, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone.”
“The end of missing someone” feels further away than we’d like. So for now, I’ll keep exercising this metaphor and make sure I’m in the cockpit more than I’m not, so that I’m ready to go where I want to go, not just holding someone else’s passport.