Your center is where your light is.

I'm Making Ego-Transcending Changes in the Pursuit of Excellence

Start with setbacks and honest reckoning

6/4/20245 min read

Image of a woman taking a hard look at herself. Photo by Samantha Garrote on Pexels.
Image of a woman taking a hard look at herself. Photo by Samantha Garrote on Pexels.

Nothing feels more like a punch to the gut than realizing I’m really out of my depth.

Or at least that was my perception recently, when encountering the learning curve and pointed comments.

It got so critical that my reality and lived experience were challenged.

Yet I was on the receiving end of meticulous feedback grounded in extensive and in-depth expertise. I was grateful yet disturbed.

I knew it was part of the growth process; it doesn’t mean I was beyond redemption. Just a decade ago, I’d have been defeated by self-doubt.

Then it struck me: how might my quest for excellence strengthen if I were to transcend my ego and take radical responsibility for my growth?

Think beyond “likes” and “dislikes”

Going beyond my “likes” and “dislikes” isn’t an exercise in denying my strengths.

It’s helping me differentiate my preferences from reality, so that I can grow more solidly.

After all, we know what might happen if we were to only do what we “like.” Bills won’t get paid; chores won’t get done; we might grow weak physically and psychologically.

More importantly, I’m finding it useful to transcend my preferences when assessing people. It’s easy to walk away from those who have bruised me, even for a while.

But what happens after that? What if their words are honest and helpful despite their prickly approach? Leadership expert and clinical psychologist Henry Cloud gave this advice:

“If we have the need to look good, mentoring doesn’t work because it requires our not looking good, and coming clean with the need to grow. If we can’t do that, we are stuck where we are.”

When describing how his former schoolmate prioritized his comfort zone, Cloud warned:

“His need to feel good about himself overshadowed his drive to grow.”

So, with this question, I’m planning to shorten my time of recovery from cutting comments by transcending my “dislikes:”

Objectively, what can I learn from this person?

With this thought, I can move from rumination or complaints towards curiosity and growth.

More powerfully, I can list down the ways I won’t conduct myself around others, in addition to the useful skills I’ve learned from them. My anti-role models are as integral to my growth as those I wholeheartedly admire.

On the task front, if I don’t like something but need it on my path to excellence, I’m going to reframe it as a transferable skill and avoid the like/dislike game. Simultaneously, with this question, I’m going to keep my pulse on reality and not delude myself:

To what extent is this skill congruent with my vocational personality and strengths?

If a huge part of a job requires this skill, yet it’s soul-killing for me to acquire it, I’m going to give that job a miss. Yet if this skill complements my larger skill set in a way that doesn’t overwhelm it, I’ll bite the bullet and integrate it with the greater good I plan to serve.

Radical responsibility is tough yet necessary

This is a tough one, yet it works. From relationships to work, I’ve used radical responsibility to take ownership and turn my life around.

It takes two hands to clap and owning my part solves the root of my woes, as only I have full control over my life.

Yet taking radical responsibility can be difficult when I’m gaining experience in something new and imposter syndrome is just around the corner.

Previously, I wrote about the valley of despair in any new endeavor. Recognizing I’m in the valley as a natural process of learning keeps imposter syndrome at bay.

Today, I’m going one step further with these questions to keep me centered and calm while growing:

In what ways am I responsible for these results? How can I make it better and improve?

In fact, that was how I responded to those pointed comments. Going forward, I said, I’d take full responsibility for my inadequacies.

And it was liberating to acknowledge that. It puts me squarely in the driver’s seat of growth, away from any form of blame or needless self-denigration.

More importantly, these questions preserve my confidence and motivate me to keep walking towards excellence.

That’s why I love what Henry Cloud wrote about the myth of the perfect person. He certainly knows what he’s saying, as a professional who has worked with numerous CEOs and top talents:

“You have to get over the fantasy that there are perfectly ‘together’ people and join the community of growers, whereby we all realize that we are humans who all have a ‘next step’ to take in our growth. We all have talents, even superhuman ones at times, and weaknesses and dysfunctions. The trick is to embrace those and become people and organizations that have a mentality of ‘imperfect stars who are getting better.’”

Failure is “another reality that I’ll deal with and overcome”

You’re seeing Cloud’s name so much because I devoured his book after reading its title in a clinical psychologist’s article:

Integrity: The Courage to Face the Demands of Reality

More specifically, he defines character as follows:

“Character = the ability to meet the demands of reality.”

Cloud makes so much sense. How many times have we got into deeper trouble by avoiding reality, be it truths concerning our external world, ourselves, or others?

In the past, I’d waste time ruminating over what-could-have-beens, in both work and relationships.

This time, I reflected on my defenses and how to improve. Cloud took me one step further by helping me separate who I am from the problem:

“People of integrated character… think that if things do not go well, that is another reality that they will deal with and overcome.”

This is such an empowering reframe: when we untangle ourselves from the problem, we see it more clearly. We stop avoiding reality. It’s a bit like what I’d learned in teacher school: target the behavior, not the child.

That’s why, in my pursuit of excellence, I’m not going to run away from failure. “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it” is an observation by Jean de La Fontaine that’s so true.

I’m just going to lose well:

“The difference is that winners lose well, and losers lose poorly. As a result, winners lose less in the future and do not lose the same way that they lost last time, because they have learned from the loss and do not repeat the pattern.” (Henry Cloud)

That doesn’t mean I’m going to absolve myself from responsibility for lackluster outcomes. Instead, using Cloud’s framework below, I’m going to study the reality of what happened, face it, and improve:

  1. “Ready:” Did I prepare myself effectively for the task?

  2. “Aim:” Was my focus clear?

  3. “Fire:” Did I take the action I planned to take?

Looking back at the incident, I thought I wasn’t “ready,” but it’s more accurate to say my “aim” or goal wasn’t crystal clear. That resulted in the pointed critique that I’ve since learned richly from.

* * * * * * * * * *

“To face negative things is hard. Otherwise, everyone would do it. To change is hard work, otherwise everyone would change. … Character that is mature knows a basic reality and has made it a part of itself: there is no such thing as a free lunch, and whatever has value is going to require hurt in order to possess.” (Henry Cloud)

The thought of change is easy, but action can be so hard. Yet I’d rather hurt my ego and transcend it in the name of growth and the greater good, than remain stuck in self-centered pomposity.

While doing so, I’m going to remain connected to my center as a compass, which comprises my values, vision, and growth.

In the short run, confronting reality might sting. In the long run, Cloud said it best:

“But, in the end, it is always worth it.”