Getting Back On Our Feet
In the immediate aftermath of a snow storm, plows and sanders are kings of the city.
They are the lifeblood of the local government’s Winter Operations. Plows with gaping mouths and trucks with beds of mocha-colored sand target the biggest pain points first - major thoroughfares and intersections - then taper down to the side streets.
Snow is an undeniable fact of life up here in New England. To be unprepared for it is like being unprepared for water to be wet. It’s in our best interest to have a Winter Operations plan.
But there are other undeniable facts of life that we are less prepared for. Failure, say. Criticism, doubt, rejection, fear. Try as we might, there’s no human who gets away without experiencing these.
So if they are undeniable as snow in a New England winter, why not have an operations plan for them? It doesn’t mean we won’t be hurt by them. Plows and sanders don’t eliminate the headache, hassle of snow. But they hasten the city’s ability to get back on its feet.
A failure/criticism/doubt operations plan targets the biggest pain points first. Perhaps to soothe our aching confidence, we reach out to mentors for guidance or hit the running trail for perspective. It can also include what we won’t do: hightail it to the bakery, listen to that mopey music, spend time with Eeyores.
Regardless of what our plan is, the knowledge that we have one can make us less timid and more inclined towards courage. After all, we have a roadmap for when what we don’t want is what we do get.
These operations plans don’t protect us from the acute pain of setbacks. That’s a pain we often need to grow larger and wiser. But what they do is hasten our ability to get back on our feet.
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