by Kelly Nelsen
On Sunday we were driving through Chicago on our way home from Thanksgiving in Wisconsin. It was the second day of driving (we’d started out in northwestern Wisconsin), and we had planned on being home in the early evening so that our three elementary-aged kids could relax a bit before going to bed in preparation for school on Monday. We’d decided to go through downtown Chicago, followed by a drive on the 80 tollway through Gary, Indiana because there is a cool bridge on that route.
Three kids, a 105 pound dog, and a bunch of luggage were piled high in our SUV.
Somewhere in Chicago, the engine sputtered slightly. My husband and I looked at each other in surprise, but everything seemed fine. After a short while, one of the kids announced the impending necessity of a bathroom break, but by that time, we were just entering Gary, Indiana. In no uncertain terms, we told her to wait about a half an hour because “Gary, Indiana is known as the murder capital of America, so if it’s okay with you, we’d rather not stop there.” She wholeheartedly agreed and assured us she could wait.
Not three minutes after that exchange, the SUV went over a bump and the engine went dead. Did I mention that Gary, Indiana is known as the murder capital of America?
We coasted over to the side of the freeway, considering what to do. My husband tried unsuccessfully to restart the engine. Cars whizzed by, and there we sat. It seemed unlikely that we’d get home anytime soon. The kids asked nervously whether we were in Gary, and we chose not to reply. They got the message.
Since it was Sunday afternoon, no rental car companies were open, and we were four hours from home. We had to wait until morning before our SUV could be fixed. That only left one option, and thankfully, the tow truck driver we called was kind enough to take us to a hotel. Three kids, a 105 pound dog, two computers, my husband, and I piled into the three-seat tow truck. Literally.
A resident of Gary, the driver talked about his purebred pit bull, his two boa constrictors, and Broadway Avenue (which he drove us down) being infamous for street gangs and murders. As I was sitting next to him, I happened to notice that he had a tattoo of brass knuckles on his right hand. I wondered if he owned some real ones.
Blessedly, we arrived at the hotel safely, but our plans of arriving home that night were dashed. The kids wouldn’t be able to go to school, we’d have to reschedule our meetings, and we’d have to call our neighbors to ask them to feed the animals for another day.
The point of this story? Life can throw you a curve ball. Our plans, as well-laid out as they may have been, were just that – plans. Reality often unfolds very differently.
Organizations are going through the strategic planning process right now, knowing full well that their plans may go unrealized because of the economy, a key customer deciding to go elsewhere, a key vendor going out of business, a key employee quitting suddenly, or something completely different that just happens out of the blue.
The key is being adaptable. Rolling with the punches and getting back on your feet with your goal (slightly modified as it may be) still in front of you. That takes being able to monitor reality and compare it with your plan. If reality doesn’t mesh with the plan, things have to change a bit. Maybe not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but a change nonetheless.
How often does this happen in your organization? How often do you monitor your organization’s reality and compare it with the plan you’ve spent weeks creating? How often have you acknowledged the need to change your reality, your plan, or both in an effort to move forward?
There’s nothing wrong with change. It’s life. And life just happens sometimes. The key is recognizing it and being willing to change. For a lot of us, though, it’s hard letting go of the original plan and making room for something different.
My daughter insists that there was a reason we got stuck in Gary, Indiana. Perhaps there was. Perhaps it was to serve as a reminder to us that plans can change despite our best attempts. We just need to be open to those changes, as unlikely or scary as they may seem.
