5.00 a.m. on a cold, dark November morning in Nepal. Snow gently fell, making the narrow path up the steep mountain that much more treacherous. We had started out at about 4,800m above sea level, the air at this altitude bereft of oxygen. Each step was an agonising slow motion of gasping for air and feeling with my boot for the safety of the next step. A steady “clop clop clop” sound grew closer, revealing a string of horses wending their way up the mountain. What were they doing here, I wondered, as they trod past me, noticing their certainty of exactly where to set their next hoof.
Suraj, our guide approached me – Nigel, my trekking partner had been struggling even more than me. Suraj wanted to know if I thought Nigel would accept a horse. I told him yes, and was gratified to see Nigel on horseback, relieved of some of his suffering.
I trekked on. Slower and slower, as the mountain got steeper. I was exhausted, cold and every step was agony. Finally, at the next way stop, I looked at the horses gathered, then to Suraj and said, “Please give me a horse”. A quick negotiation on price, and the next thing I know, I was perched on a beautiful animal, breathing calmly for the first time in 2 hours, and taking in the magnificent Himalayan vistas.
What made me make the decision to ask for help?
- I remembered what my true goal was – to enjoy everything the Annapurna Circuit Trek had to offer, including going through the Thorang-La Pass at 5,416m above sea level.
- I looked at the situation and realised I had a choice – I could continue the agony of my two legs or enjoy the trek with my four-hoofed friend. We always have choices.
- I released bravado and ego. Would it matter to anyone that I took the “easy” way out? Would it matter to anyone that I made a choice for myself that was in my best interest? Would it make it seem that I was less than? Would I be seen as a failure? I let all those thoughts go.
I had reason to recall this incident a few days ago on an 8-day meditation retreat. With some recent lower back challenges, the endless sitting in a cross-legged position was becoming more and more painful. It’s impossible to still the mind if the body is in pain. I squirmed, I shifted my position, I stretched – nothing helped. Then I remembered the horse! I asked for a chair. And it made all the difference.
As always, there is meaning in these experiences that I offer to leaders. Somehow, we have got the idea that asking for help shows weakness – we fear being viewed as incompetent, unable to solve problems and not being up to the task. Basically, we fear being vulnerable. Note that these are only thoughts raging in our minds. And as with all thoughts, we have the power to change them – in a heartbeat. The next time you find yourself stuck in a situation, feeling like you are overwhelmed and drowning in the chaos, confusion or hardship of a report or project, for example, STOP and ask yourself:
- REFOCUS: What’s the goal? What did I set out to achieve, and most importantly, why?
- REALIGN: Is what I am doing now moving me towards that goal with the momentum and focus required?
- REQUEST: If not, where do I need help, and who can I ask?
And then make the ask, even if your are scared out of your wits. Do it anyway – you might be surprised that people are more willing to help than you thought, as you hear things like:
“I thought you’d never ask!”
“I’d be happy to help.”
“What do you need me to do?”
Stop battling with yourself. Ask for help. The benefits are numerous, but here are a few:
- You release your stress and anxiety. No longer is the task yours alone.
- You model true teamwork – people can’t work together without helping each other and that means asking for help, and receiving it graciously. When your team sees you asking for help, they will understand that it’s safe for them to do so as well – and to offer help to others.
- Your team members see the bigger picture, stretch, and grow as they take on tasks that you release.
“Sometimes asking for help is the bravest move you can make. You don’t have to go it alone”
– Steve Keating.
Love this Marguerite!