Have To Versus Want To

Eau Claire, Wisconsin

August 26, 2024

Crazy how coincidences happen. I’m still digested Fox, Michigan being near Carney, Michigan. Add to that wondering how wise I am to drive to Paris, Yukon and Alaska. There are a lot of unknowns surrounding that trip — as well as some knowns that overnight have become intimidating. It will be a lonely and desolate drive. Am I up for the potential issues I might face — flat tires, broken down vehicle, distance between civilization, no cell service, food, bears, where to sleep? Have I gotten soft — or maybe not realized how “unrough” my wanderabout has been so far? Would I be ok with the drive if I had someone riding shotgun? What can I do to try and get my comfort back? What’s changed to make me doubt myself? (That one is pretty easy — I started researching the drive!)

Maybe we all have doubts we dance with.

From Korn Ferry:

The last day of vacation—and all seven of us scrambling to pack and get to the airport on time. Then suddenly, in our rush, somebody knocked over a fruit smoothie and sent it flying.

It happened several years ago, but I can still remember standing at the door, luggage in hand—watching as that pink lava, as if in slow motion, shot into the air. It landed with a splat … right on a white rug.

Cleanup quickly gave way to chaos as everyone sprang into action. Someone grabbed bath towels (white, of course) to sop up the mess. Someone squirted shampoo (the only “cleaner” we had) to avoid a stain. Another person doused it with water. Then somebody pulled out a hairdryer—and nearly burned the rug.

It was time to go, but our daughter Emily was giving the barely visible pink spot one last scrub with a toothbrush. When I asked her why, she shrugged.

“I want to,” she said with a smile. “And it’s fun.”

In the throes of panic and pressure, it was an unexpected moment of joy—and one that only came through a shared experience.

Flash forward—another time, another group of young people, and a far different sentiment. Friends of my now-grown children were sitting around the table at our house not that long ago. As they talked, I overheard something about “Scary Sundays.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

Scary Sundays, they explained, was the anxiety of a new workweek—virtually, in person, and everything in between—and “sometimes having to work all the way to 6 p.m.”

My immediate reaction was to the “6 p.m.” comment—remembering what my dad used to say whenever I complained about something. He’d tell me how he walked to school two miles every day—through the snow … backwards! I must have heard it 100 times. And there I was, thinking like my dad—until I caught myself.

“Yeah, I get it,” I told the group. “We’ve all had those feelings.”

The more I thought about what they’d said, the more I could tell something was missing. Then it hit me—they haven’t found their why.

There’s an enormous difference between having to do something and wanting to do something. And it takes leadership to provide that bridge between have to and want to.

It’s not our role or our place—or even in our power—to tell someone to be happy. Similarly, no one can change an organization or a team unless they first change themselves.

Granted, not every minute (or every person) is going to be blue skies and rainbows—at times, we all suffer. In every situation, however, we must first look in the mirror—and then look at others with empathy, authenticity, and genuine care.

It starts with the leader—but it’s never about the leader. We have a choice. Are we creating or critiquing? Do we generate positivity or negativity? Do we praise or blame? Are we reflecting or deflecting? Do we see disappointment and failure—or a chance to learn?

And that brings us back to that long-ago vacation day …

I was at that same location recently—and serendipitously stayed in that exact same place. The white carpet was gone, replaced by hardwood floor. The walls were repainted, the furniture rearranged.

My children were no longer teenagers, by now grown adults.

But I could still see them as they were then, scrambling and scrubbing. I could hear the echo of their laughter. It’s an indelible memory, never to be wiped away.

Yes, it’s true—the richness of life can many times be found in our memories of the past. But in the present, we are most fulfilled when having to transcends into wanting to.