In highschool we went to a leadership camp, and I drowned, almost. After my limbs gave way, I saw flashes of green and brown and tasted sandy waters. As the world darkened, a voice penetrated the growing silence amid the chaos. It was Liesel Opperman, a blonde classmate, who shouted, “Don’t do that! You’ll make both of us drown.”
She had come to my rescue and dragged me to a large rock on the side of the river, where I passed out. I came around eventually, half-dried and with a pounding headache. My classmates were now climbing onto what I recall as roof-high rocks and jumping into the river, to my utter disinterest.
But I eventually shuffled to the edge of that rock, looked down, closed my eyes and jumped. After a moment of silence, the water exploded, and I sank for what seemed like an eternity. I opened my eyes briefly and saw green and brown, then I shut them tightly.
I kicked and flapped and eventually broke the surface and took a large gasp. I had known how to swim, you see, but not in open waters. This second time, I let the current carry me to the side of the river, to the same large rock where Liesel had delivered me. I mounted it and stood triumphantly to great applause from my classmates. Later that day, I was nominated head boy.
I learned a few things that day, including that there are quiet forces that shape outcomes. In the river, it was the current. In leadership, it is courage. In business, as I have likewise come to appreciate, it is strategy. In life, I guess, it is Love.
P.S. I received news yesterday that executives at Hollard (throughout the continent) rated me 9.4/10 for a class I facilitated in December on disruptive innovation. If you want to learn more about my background and approach to corporate education, visit this link.
