Incremental. That word hasn’t been my friend in years past. Though trained as an engineer where incremental is needed to be successful, I am more of a get-it-done guy, multi-tasking to make efficient progress.  I draw conclusions quickly and then shift into action. The only place the word incremental applied was in detailed planning phases, making sure all aspects were covered. Once set, I moved swiftly to implement.

Those skills served me well on the projects I worked on or led in my career. But on projects where the manager moved with a foot hovering over the brake petal, allowing layers of discussions and reviews to slow progress, I bristled inside. I would then redirect my energy to drive my areas of the project even harder, not always concerned for others.

Yet the years have a way of teaching us, don’t they? They have for me.

The learnings that have stuck came via the hurts and pain, those I’ve caused and those I’ve received. Most involved other people, others came from my mistakes. God found plenty of fodder to bring me up short and open my eyes to opportunities to learn and change, or remain stuck in my driven ways. Here’s a couple ‘ouch’ examples that made it real.  

One time, I criticized a team member in a project meeting for being late again on certain deliverables. The blamed person’s face fell and eyes dropped. I learned later that a private circumstance had caused the delay and quickly realized how my uncompromising words and attitude hurt him. It was another lesson in a string of lessons about judgement and impatience.

Another time, a sales rep faced constant pressure from me to meet schedule and performance metrics on an important installation which ended successfully. After a celebratory luncheon where I had offered words of thanks, the sales rep (trying to gently educate me), said he was confused by my unrelenting, even pointed expectations during the project yet my warm congratulations at the luncheon. It took some time for the truth to sink in, that my drive for the project’s success overrode my care for the people I worked with. A saying I’d heard helped: “They may not remember what you said, but they will remember how you made them feel.”

Neither event was earth-shaking. Yet they along with others slowly chipped away at my ‘shadow self’ as Richard Rohr would describe it, the part of us that’s more concerned about self than others. They gave me the chance to turn the dial incrementally towards understanding and care.

Here’s a humorous example. Long ago when my kids were little, I had checked the dishwasher and saw the silverware all mixed together in the holder. Not a big deal, right? But it was with my expectation that forks, spoons and knives needed to be carefully separated! I gruffly called the kids over to clearly demonstrate the proper method and jammed a spoon down into the holder. Unfortunately, a fork tine stabbed deep under my thumbnail! My initial reaction was to fling the fork away and kick the couch in frustration. My howl sent the kids scurrying out of the room. It took me a while to calm down and even longer before I understood my need for greater patience and perspective.

As most of us know, every day offers opportunities to learn about ourselves and make healthier, loving choices. Some, like the examples above aren’t easily forgotten. It’s disheartening at times, despite the many lessons, how difficult it is to change. Yet I remain grateful that God is patient and compassionate, helping me with each step, and then another step, to become a better person.