The tension between the two individuals was extreme. Every one of my senses had been touched. The nervous goose bumps on my skin were visible. I felt as thought I had been wound up tights as my muscles responded to the situation without direction. The recent glass of water was a distant memory, my dry tongue called for something, anything. I knew something was going to happen. I did not know when or what. I could only anticipate action, most likely ugly.
As the moment slowed to a stop, I found myself reflecting on each in the room had come to this point. The two appeared to shared a common starting point. They were highly motivated individuals doing what s/he thought was best for the corporation and themselves. With new experiences and data points, the differences in their paths were clear. At the center for both was an interesting twist. When faced with the same data, a shared situation, one reacted with fear and uncertainty, protecting the downside, while the other assumed that the group was on their side for the most part.
Isolated, the choices each made along the way seemed reasonable. When you took them together in context, one tried to avoid or minimize risk so that s/he survived while the other reached for something that would make a difference for the community.
I understood the fear. The individual felt alone, at risk, and if observations were correct, cornered. I was surprised by the hope. Contrary to expectations, this individual acted as if s/he could see something the rest of us could not. In the frozen moment I recalled a conversation we had early in the process.
“How do you deal with the chaos?”
“I don’t. I remember an observation that shapes my response to uncertainty and unknowns; “Your throne is God’s throne, ever and always; the scepter of your royal rule measures right living.” (Psalm 45.6) Doing what is right is always the answer.”
A voice in the room pulled me from my reflection, “What can I do to help you win?”