How I Navigated A Leadership Meltdown (Without Getting Swallowed By Shame)
Last Saturday, I fell headlong into the underworld.
OK, so maybe it wasn’t quite that dramatic… but damn, it sure felt that way at the time.
There I was, serving in an important ceremony when everything inside me froze up. Emotionally triggered and silently spinning, I began to question whether I could continue doing my job that day.
Something had rattled my courage and I suddenly found myself questioning whether I had the capacity to anchor myself, let alone others.
Do I really belong here?
Am I capable?
Do I even have what it takes?
On the outside, I seemed solid (or so I’m told, anyway!) Grounded, open-hearted, and fully present.
But on the inside? Total shit show.
For several hours I was caught in the jaws of fight or flight. Nervous system on the fritz, heart squeezing shut, brain on overdrive. I wanted to run from the room and hide under a bush, like a wounded animal culling itself from the herd.
From a safe distance, I can recognize the distorted thinking that comes online when fear gets activated. But when I’m sitting squarely in the middle of the storm, it really does feel like I’ve been dragged by my hair into Dante’s Inferno.
At an earlier point in my career, this scene might have played out in a boardroom or staff meeting. Navigating a minefield of business issues and egos – including my own - in an attempt to reach consensus or find a breakthrough.
That experience in ceremony recalled moments from my management career when I felt most isolated and uncertain. Times like:
Leaving my comfort zone to step into new levels of leadership without an ally in sight
Guiding teams through periods of distrust, anger and conflict
Unforeseen financial shortfalls that threatened to take my organization down
Implementing necessary, but unpopular decisions
From the outside, I was perceived as capable and resilient – a Warrior. But the inner truth is more murky. I often felt unworthy, regardless of my skills or achievements.
What I know now is that I was operating through a lens of unprocessed trauma, which colored all my perceptions. But back then it just felt like the truth.
I so often feared I wasn't "enough."
Lacking self-trust, it was difficult for me to trust others. I cared deeply, loved them even, but so much of my heart got lost in translation.
I made my fair share of relational mistakes while thrashing around inside those periods of self-doubt. There were times when I grossly misunderstood my own power and how best to apply it. I messed things up – as all humans do – while rarely forgiving myself a single misstep.
My greatest leadership regrets trace back to those moments when my shadow ruled the day.
Instead of believing in my inherent goodness, I cuddled up with unworthiness. Despite my achievements, I believed that those around me deserved so much better than what I had to offer.
Those old ghosts rarely visit me anymore, so it really knocked the wind out of me when they came swooping in last Saturday. As they cackled the old familiar story that I’m a hot mess and don’t belong, I almost went along for that ride.
But this time, I was ready.
When those beasts came a’ calling, I pushed back. Even though it felt hard to breath, I laughed out loud and declared:
“Not today, Satan!”
A few people around me heard my battle cry and laughed along with me. That broke the tension inside and reminded me that I wasn’t the only person in the room having some Mighty Big Feels.
In that crucial moment, I paused the old storyline. I said, “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I called upon my spiritual sources of support instead. I shared how I was feeling with my colleagues, and let other people in.
I gave myself credit for all the things I was doing right. I drew from everything I know about containment, creating a breakwater of self-love and compassion to turn back the tide of doubt that had been rising steadily inside me.
In my messy imperfection, I showed up.
I supported a kick-ass ceremony that brought forward deep healing. Together we passed through the swamp and found beauty on the other side.
As it turns out, I was never alone. I was never a burden. I was always needed in the circle, exactly as I am.
More than that, I see how all the stuff I “got wrong” has created some mighty fine conditions for cultivating empathy and wisdom. Better still, my ongoing missteps and failures are the smelly but necessary compost that nourish my practice, and this whole weird experience of being human.
To get to that gold, I have to keep learning every day how to sit with my shame. I must keep owning my mistakes, and any harm I may cause along the way. In other words, I gotta kick my toxic impulses toward achievement and perfectionism to the curb.
My aim these days is to show up as the mentor, coach, and leader that I needed earlier in my life and career. That means doing my own shadow work. Even – and especially – when I don’t want to.
Am I nailing it every day? Hell no. That’s not how growth and change works.
But here’s what I am getting right: I am learning how to fall down with more grace.
I’m no longer aiming for an A+. I start every day by forgiving my mistakes because I know they are coming. I give myself permission to fail. I offer myself full credit for showing up and doing the best I can with what I’ve got.
Nothing more, nothing less.
These days when I find myself in situations that stretch me or make me feel uncomfortable, I try not to armor up. Instead, I buckle up, face the fire, and remind myself that I’m at my growth edge.
Even though it’s scary as hell at times, there’s no place I’d rather be.
