Navigating Chaos. Jeff Boss
Читать онлайн книгу.
and I began to tactically question the remaining inhabitants of the house in an effort to elicit any valuable information in the wake of such an assumingly traumatic event for them. It turned out that the woman who ran across the room at the beginning of our clearance was both the insurgent’s cousin and wife, and she had been instructed by him to run away from his position within the room to draw our attention away from the corner from which he was planning his ambush. When asked about how she felt that we had just killed him, she just shrugged her shoulders: “Eh, he was an asshole.”
◆◆◆
A number of instances in my life have driven home the fact that purpose is a primary motivator for success, and it’s because of the passion and fulfillment that it yields. If the meaning and satisfaction that I derived from the job were not clearly defined after the first time I was shot, then I would have put down my rifle and found a desk job, or hung up my parachute after my first parachute malfunction (more on that later). But I didn’t. Instead, I was pulled back toward the pack for another round. I had a purpose to serve and my thirst for more just wasn’t quenched yet.
When one’s job role increases in meaning, it becomes easier to endure amidst challenge and adversity for the simple fact that fear conquers fear.
Here’s what I mean.
To be purposeful and passionate about what you do does not mean you live a life full of rainbows and unicorns. There are challenges, letdowns, and tumultuous times. But when you’re passionate about your work, you become more committed and you proactively seek more ways to engage and find solutions—because if you don’t, then a heavy weight of guilt rests upon your shoulders until you do. Since you want to succeed, you’re more likely to leave your circle of comfort and face conflict with others and you fear that if you don’t, then that irresistible urge to quench your motivational thirst will never be fulfilled. But when you do, you discover that the harder that “thing” is the more you get out of it, and you get addicted to success. To try and fail at a task that frightens you overrides the fear of not trying at all.
Fear conquers fear.
◆◆◆
Purpose is that intangible force that summons people to move, and has been presented to me at multiple stages in my life across a wide range of scenarios as a means of questioning my desire and beliefs of what I held to be “right.” It’s based on what you value and choose to act upon, and as you gather meaning and value from those pursuits, passion forms. For any person or organization to be organizationally fit, employees must find meaning at work that warrants such a chase. People oftentimes join the military for an ideal because that ideal is hard to find otherwise. Companies are no different. They attract or repel talent based on the values and purposes they embody. This is one of the few times where the gray area of life dissipates and becomes black or white.
Without a direction, a mission, or a path to guide behavior, an unclear purpose leads to nowhere. Hell, just consider the types of meetings you attend in your company. How many meetings actually serve the purpose for which they’re called? Personally, I like to write the purpose of the meeting on a whiteboard for all to see so that when conversations go off topic, we can simply refer to the purpose that brought everybody together. Making purpose clear helps keep everybody aligned and able to make mini course adjustments along the way.
The bottom line is that for purpose to find fulfillment, it needs to lead to effective action. In special warfare, the ability to shoot, move, and communicate as one fluid unit is what turns uncertainty into something palpable—which also means that it’s manageable and measurable. Effectiveness comes from being grounded in what you do and why you do it; from creating a solution, rather than one day hoping to find the answer. There is a purpose for everything we do in specwar, and everything you do in your company. Every critical information node, meeting, job assignment, employee selection, mission set, sale, or training schedule serves a purpose. The question is: does that purpose create its intended value?
I am a firm believer in having a meaning for everything, a reason for why things happen—not framed in a spiritual or religious light, but instead understood rationally. Without a belief to point us toward “right,” the temptation to yield to inferior rationale grows stronger. If this snowball of temptation grows too large, it becomes easier to make decisions based upon emotion rather than reason. Without purpose, the drive to sustain superior performance dwindles away, because there is no significance for what you do or why you do it. You can only go so far on self-discipline or willpower alone because, at some point, you just get tired of pushing yourself. The metaphorical-emotional gas tank eventually runs empty. To be purpose-driven, however, is to be pulled in a direction that ignites the craving for even more discoveries, and is a theme that will be revisited often throughout this book.
For SOF, our purpose is to affect change. We do so by carrying out the strategy that allows us to constantly adapt our capabilities and win in uncertain environments. Dead bad guys just happen to be the result.
Purpose brings meaningfulness that fuels the fire for even greater intellectual curiosity and Sustained Superior Performance (SSP). I like to define SSP as steadfast execution amidst frequent uncertainty. People who can perform in the face of ambiguity—those who can conceptually build a mental and emotional bridge and safely maneuver across it without setback—are the ones who ultimately discover their high performance status.
The principles outlined in this book are what I believe lead to success whether on the battlefield or in the boardroom. Identifying a purpose and being passionate about what you do; possessing the character and competence to trust and be trusted; having a strong family or support network; and being humble enough to shut up, learn, and serve others all combine to create what I believe to be an indestructible human machine. A person who is highly motivated to learn and has the support network to do so is a dangerous adversary, because there is nothing over which the heart and mind cannot collectively triumph. Fighting with values and principles will always outweigh weapons and munitions. A rifle will run out of bullets, but the source that fuels an individual’s reason for being will never cease. Hell, look at Afghanistan. No single nation has ever conquered that godforsaken country despite technological and military advantages up the behind. I have seen the aforementioned sense of purpose firsthand by means of suicide bombers and barricaded shooters who knew they were going to die, but just didn’t care, because their sole mission in life was to take us with them. It is extremely difficult to defend against an enemy who only cares about one thing and will do anything to achieve it, including martyr himself.
The above elements are by no means the only components that contribute to sustained superior performance; they are simply what I have found to create meaningfulness, passion in life, and individual and team success.
High-demanding jobs demand high performance ideals, and to be considered tier one in any industry requires tier one people. Jobs that require you to constantly travel and be away from your family, to face danger more than the average Joe, or to deal with significant financial risk necessitate more than just a step-by-step process of how to do these things. Replicating “best practices” simply won’t cut it because what works for Company A may be a horrid idea for Company B.
Purpose was the guiding light that allowed me to persevere through uncommon challenges, as purpose offers clarity on what is to be expected and what is to be achieved. In no particular order, the other elements in this book helped me feel more obliged to carry on when the power of choice became a test against temptation.
Ohio State University, 1998
One of my first how-bad-do-you-want-to-be-a-SEAL? tests came my sophomore year in college. Every morning I would wake up at five o’clock to run four miles, then afterwards make a ridiculously oversized breakfast. My dad used to sarcastically joke that instead of opening the refrigerator door to eat, I should just stick the entire fridge between two slices of bread because it would save time. Breakfast was actually more a question of what I didn’t eat rather than what I did.
I would run to the gym to run on the treadmill, which makes absolutely no sense now that I see that sentence. On this particular morning in college, though, after doing the first mile on the treadmill, I started to see black spots.
Instead