The monkey only had to open its hand

I recently had one of Century’s leadership teams give me an “SSC.” (Start, Stop, Continue)

(It’s a great exercise to hopefully make everyone feel safe enough to bring up real issues and provide direct feedback to get better. Real feedback is a gift.)

One of the findings that came out to me is that I like being comfortable.

If I'm being honest, my favorite meetings are the ones where I'm comfortable.

The weekly update. I'm not on the hook. I lean back, I listen, I nod. I understand everything that's going on. It feels good to be in the room.

Here's the uncomfortable part.

Those aren't the meetings where I grow. And some of them might be the meetings where I'm in the way. The leaders are sharpening each other. The group is getting tighter. The work is getting done.

Without me.

I have to be honest about what I'm holding onto when that happens.

There's a story about monkey trappers I think about more than I'd like to admit.

An African village had too many monkeys. The trappers didn't need cages or nets. They knew two things. The monkeys are stubborn, and the monkeys love rice.

So they hollowed out coconuts, dropped rice inside, and tied them to the trees. A monkey would smell it, reach through the small hole, and grab a fistful.

That was it.

The closed fist was too big to pull back through the hole. All the monkey had to do to go free was open its hand.

It wouldn't. It held on tighter as the trappers walked up.

The trap was never the coconut. The trap was the grip.

History doesn't repeat. Human nature does.

We have ego. We have a monkey mind that whispers about all the things we cannot afford to release. So I'll ask you what I had to ask myself.

What are your coconuts with rice?

Maybe it's your business. It can be intoxicating to be the important one, the one who knows, the one they still need.

Maybe it's your kids. We want them on the path we already know is best.

In our family businesses, we are always working on succession. We are doing the work of transcending generations. The power of compounding requires us to think beyond the decade we happen to be leading.

That means we have to flex the muscle of letting go. Constantly.

Our family businesses cannot afford us to be the monkey, fist clenched around the rice, too stubborn to walk away free.

Letting go is a choice. It comes in forms big and small.

Let teammates choose the equipment for the shop.

Let teammates take the lead in the conversation with the customer.

Let teammates handle the issue instead of you putting on the cape to save the day.

Let your children fall down when you can see them stepping into something.

Let your toddler jump on the trampoline right after dinner even though you know it's a bad idea. (This happened last week. He threw up. I think he learned his lesson?)

Let people surprise you. Let people learn alongside you.

An open hand does more good in our family businesses than a closed fist ever will.

Onward, 

Matt

P.S. Your kids are watching which one it is. A closed fist teaches them to wait until you are gone. An open hand teaches them to lead while you are still here to cheer them on.