It’s not the destination; it’s about the journey. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
First, a story.
During July 2021, my 26-year-old daughter and I began our ascent up Mt. Olympus, located on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State. To reach the foothills, we first traversed along the Hoh River Trail — an 18.5-mile hike through the lush rainforest where trees towered so high they appeared to touch the sky. Narrow and oftentimes barely visible trails wound around moss-covered trees, truck-sized rocks and small streams, making every turn an anticipated adventure of beauty and mystery of the forest.
Accompanying us on our journey were two incredibly fit mountain guides, an active Marine Corps soldier, a top NCAA athlete, and a former Army Green Beret. We were excited and anticipated a great hike and climb with this group of well-conditioned “twenty-somethings.”
At least that’s what we thought.
We weren’t prepared for the rapid pace set by the “boys,” nor did we know that American black bears roamed these woods. Although I was in good shape, I was 66 years old, and the age gap took its toll, making it difficult to keep up with the youngsters. Further, my daughter wasn’t in top condition due to her medical school obligations, which left little time to train for such a vigorous activity.
The two guides soon “left us in the dust” as they sailed along the trails. They became angry when I stopped to snap photos of the verdant landscape or slowed down to inhale the incredible scent of the rainforest. They even looked at me askance as I meditated and practiced mindfulness in my walks during breaks.
The rest of the boys continued to speed through the forest along with the guides.
I kept asking, “What’s our hurry?” They ignored me or answered with a dismissive shrug and commented, “We just need to. Our mantra is getting on top as quickly as we can.”
When the group reached the foothills and began the ascent portion of the journey, the rush suddenly seemed to double. I asked if they would consider either slowing down or splitting us into two groups — a slow one and a fast one. Their terse answer was, “Nope, no can do!”
Knowing that my daughter and I would not be able to keep up with the pace, I finally announced that we needed to turn back since we could not keep up.
The taller guide glared back at me without saying a word. It’s as if he were lashing out with his eyes. Then, without an utterance, he aggressively pulled out a mini-spiral notebook and scribbled something on it. Handing it to me, he commanded, “Here, sign this!”
It read, “In case I get killed on my way back to the trailhead, I won’t sue the guide company and will make sure I return the climbing boots (I rented) by the next day.”
I smirked and asked, “Are you serious?” I found it humorous that somehow, I would have the ability to sue anyone after I died.
I shrugged and signed the statement and then, without further conversation, the boys rushed back onto the current switchback trail and plowed ahead. They didn’t even look back.
My daughter and I were relieved at first, but after assessing our situation, we soon realized there were only two liters of water between us and no way of making more since the guides kept the water-purifying tablets. We also lacked a proper first aid kit in case we got injured crossing the streams that had sharp rocks protruding. In addition, we had no maps to navigate our way back to the trailhead or any bear spray to ward off black bear attacks.
After a few hours and over 20 miles of hiking through unfamiliar terrain, we made it back to the trailhead — alive. Dehydrated and exhausted, we immediately searched for an outdoor water spigot to rehydrate and quench our thirst. After a bit of searching, we discovered all the water sources at the facility were turned off “Due to Covid,” the signs read. We were stunned and had now become desperate.
Thankfully, we found a local “dive” bar — the best ones for great-tasting burgers and cold beer (and water) — and survived the ordeal.
So, what does this story have to do with leadership? Patience. It’s about how leadership can be viewed as a journey instead of only a destination — a process that should be enjoyed and not rushed. If this attitude is taken, the leadership position can become transformative, and patience can become a valuable skill.
Leadership Patience
As demonstrated in my story, the guides didn’t really know why we were in such a rush to get to the top. They only knew that they were hired to get people to the top of the mountain. Their entire goal was the destination. This mindset is prevalent in our society as it glorifies speed, urgency, instant gratification, and rapid decision-making.
Having patience is a strategic and incredibly powerful tool that fosters better decision-making, creates stronger relationships, and contributes to long-term success. Central to this dogma is viewing time as a strategic asset. Certainly, there are familiar euphemisms that underscore this idea: “Rome wasn’t built in a day” or the children’s story about the Tortoise and the Hare. Both are illustrations of patience.
Indeed, mountain guides on Mt. Kilimanjaro frequently use the native Swahili phrase “Pole-pole,” meaning “Slowly, slowly,” to emphasize that not only are skill and experience required to climb large mountains, but also patience and mindfulness. Taking one step at a time will allow us to achieve our goals more effectively than speed will. If we rush up the mountain, we are soon exhausted and get altitude sickness, but taking our time and enjoying the environment allows us to better adapt to the high altitude with less fatigue.
Meaningful change takes time. It takes time to build a corporate culture, implement strategic initiatives, and guide employees toward growth. We know that impatience can lead to hasty decisions, unnecessary conflicts, and burnout, whereas patience allows leaders to see the bigger picture, make informed choices, and cultivate a resilient, high-performing team.
This leadership perspective uses time as a strategic asset to build a solid core of growth and relationships instead of achieving superficial and immediate results. Some may consider this a passive form of waiting (to achieve goals), but it can be viewed as an active form of self-regulation, employee development, and strategic timing.
The Core Pillars of Patient Leadership
Patient leadership has four core pillars:
Strategic foresight. Initiating new projects, improving programs, and supporting staff often require complicated planning. Success requires analysis, forethought, and staff engagement. It will take time for everyone on a team to understand, accept, and pursue the strategies.
Emotional regulation. Staying calm during periods of growth and building, where crisis or failure of an intended strategy is possible, is essential to prevent panic from filtering down to teams. This requires time and patience. It sets a tone of stability and confidence, helping employees feel secure and motivated.
Psychological safety. Giving room to employees to make mistakes, learn, and innovate without fear of immediate punishment while the company grows is essential for success. Essentially, we invest in long-term skill development rather than demanding instant flawless expertise.
Root cause problem solving. Resisting quick fixes in favor of analyzing and fixing foundational issues requires time and patience.
How do we do this?
Exercise patience by incorporating mindfulness and stress management techniques to stay composed.
Set realistic expectations for ourselves as leaders and for others.
Reflect on past experiences where patience generated positive outcomes.
Understand and appreciate the process of development and growth in projects and people.
Maintain patience and show respect to fellow team members to help build mutual respect and a positive team culture.
What are some benefits of this process?
Higher retention. Employees will likely stay loyal to leaders who support their growth, resulting in lower burnout rates.
Improved decision-making. Deliberate and thoughtful decision-making is much better than impulsive or reactive decision-making. Fewer mistakes will be made.
Stronger innovation. People feel more secure experimenting with complex ideas that take time to work through.
Sustainable growth. Organizations build stable foundations that can withstand economic volatility.
Enjoyment. Journeys often are much more fun than destinations.
The Joy in the Journey
The journey is more important than outcomes when it comes to developing programs with long-term expectations. This may sound antithetical to some, but experiences and lessons learned and gained through a journey can be applied repeatedly and even refined in a variety of leadership and life situations. Outcomes or destinations are not necessarily long-term and lasting.
For example, in my story, I learned about rainforests, how to survive the challenge of a long hike without water or a map, and how to protect myself when confronted by a black bear (shout). I learned that expectations don’t always materialize, no matter how carefully planned (expecting there to be water in the water spickets).
Leadership should be viewed as a process (journey) and not necessarily a goal (destination). We never reach the absolute top, and we are always learning to become better at what we do.
Stop and smell the roses.