That time when I choose the perfect word

As the end of the year 2020 approaches, I find myself thinking about one word I want to highlight from this Annus Horribilis. I don't know why, this year specifically, I am obsessed with the idea of encapsulating all it was in just one single word.

It could be that so much happened (or better yet, so much was felt) that simplifying it in one word makes it more digestible.

I re-read my opening line. Why am I calling this "Annus Horribilis"? Was it, really? Yes, it was. It was for nurses, doctors, and essential workers. It was for families who suffered the loss of a loved one. It was for those who experienced violence and discrimination. It was for all of us who found ourselves on the verge of the catastrophe and fought back. It was, for those who didn't make it.

But is this the definition I want to take over to 2021?

Words matter. And I refuse to step into the new year with this emotional baggage.

See, I believe I have a significant responsibility: as a leader within my organization, it is my duty to set the tone.

I have used this sentence so many times over the years, and it does not come from a prestigious leadership book, but rather from a successful TV show: ER.

For those who watched the show in the late '90s and early '00s, it should be easy to remember Dr. Mark Green. For those who did not, you will never understand what you missed!

Long story short, Dr. Green was one of the main characters. He was a leader, a teacher, a father, a brave man, who had run the Emergency Department of County General Hospital in Chicago, Illinois for a decade.

Sadly, at some point, Dr. Green is diagnosed with an aggressive form of brain cancer and decides to leave work to spend his final days with his family. I will not delve into the painful scene of his departure (though it is listed among those scenes that shaped TV history, FYI), but I remember his last words distinctively while leaving the ER for the very last time.

The power of this line lies in the repetition. Throughout the series, it had been said multiple times, from senior doctors to younger ones, at different times and contexts. But that time was one of the most powerful.

The Doctor exits the hospital, and meets a colleague outside; he takes the basketball from the ground and passes it to him, saying: "You set the tone, Carter." Then leaves.

You set the tone.

You, the leader, have the responsibility to behave in a way that inspires, encourages, and – mostly- makes others feel SAFE.

I set the tone. If I'd enter the new year shrunk under the weight of 2020, I'd make my team feel uncertain, worried, and unsafe.

So, my goal at first was finding a positive, optimistic word.

I ended up with "discomfort."

Yes, now it's the right time to laugh.

"What has discomfort to do with positivity?"

Glad you asked.

It's not the word itself. It's the meaning we attach to it.

We have read left and right about changing the meaning of words like failure, to change the attitude around it, and eventually help those who failed to climb back from under the rock of shame.

"Discomfort" is the new "failure."

2020 was all about discomfort.

It reshaped our view of the essential elements of our lives in the most tragic and disruptive way.

We abruptly stopped doing what we are hardwired to do: being close to other human beings.

No more family gatherings, no more in-person meetings, no more office space, no more hugs. [sigh] The hugs. I miss those.

As leaders of SMBs, the situation forced us to redefine our work priorities and reassess our strategy, especially in the IT industry. Our common goal – as IT service providers- became keeping our clients up and running.

We trained our whole professional lives for this moment, and yet at first, it shook us. Because simultaneously, we were fighting our own battle to readjust and be operative.

Someone called us "the first responders of IT," and I believe we were.

We jumped into the virtual fire and did all we could for our clients.

As humans, we faced the discomfort of silence. The unreal silence out on the streets. Here in Italy, the silence was interrupted only by the sound of ambulances.

We faced, and still are facing, the discomfort of not being able to plan. We don't know how things will unfold; there's not enough clarity to plan anything.

We live in the moment.

Ah. There it is.

Can you get a glimpse of the silver lining of the word "discomfort"?

Discomfort changed us and allowed a new way of living to emerge. It showed us that going slower is not only possible, but it is necessary.

Being separated from the team forced me to have multiple uncomfortable conversations over Teams. I dread those at first. I thought, "how can I be of service if I'm not close to them? How can I be empathic and understanding through a computer screen?". It turned out I could, and you can be too.

But we must decide to lean in into the discomfort of a conversation, of criticism, of a new way of working and living.

When you embrace discomfort and make it your friend, that's when you realize you are unstoppable. As a leader, as a company, as a person.

As Brené Brown says, "Integrity is choosing courage over comfort; choosing what is right over what is fun, fast, or easy; and choosing to practice our values rather than simply professing them."

This quote is everything I want my company to be. It is everything I want to be as a leader because it is my job to lead the way through discomfort and make it to the other side, where creativity and innovation are.

If I had let the discomfort of the pandemic win, I would have declared the end of my company's growth.

Leaning into discomfort only brought more clarity.

Someone said, "By experiencing what you don't want, you get clearer about what you do want."

I don't want to isolate myself from my team; I don't want them to feel abandoned into this uncharted territory; I don't want fear and worry to dictate the rules.

I want open and honest communication.

I want "trust" to be present every day, both ways.

I want courage, to express feelings, and to present ideas.

I want to build a company where all the people can express their best qualities for the greater good of "living a better life."

I must thank the 2020 discomfort because it allowed things to get visible, it reshaped the focus of attention, and – most of all – created the space to deliver change and growth.

In the opening line of her podcast, Oprah Winfrey says, "I believe one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself is time. Taking time to be more fully present."

So Thank you, 2020, for giving me the time to reflect deeply and mindfully on things, to press my ear on the ground to sense the world around me, and thank you for allowing me to respond.

I take "discomfort" with me as we move to 2021, with the awareness of the blessings that came with it.

I take the darkness with me because it shaped the light that will guide me through this new era.

It might be uncommon or even controversial to thank such a tragic year. But I refuse to let sorrow overcome gratitude. I refuse to be guided by scarcity and fear.

After all, it doesn't matter if not everyone will feel this way; as Professor Lupin says, "It's the quality of one's convictions that determines success, not the number of followers."

For 2021, I wish you all to let the Annus Mirabilis within yourselves to shine. No matter what.