Why Do You Do What You Do?

If we’re going to get serious about defining a crystal-clear purpose that drives us to serve the team members who are counting on us, through even the worst of times, we need to understand why we do what we do. Before we dig into that though, I want you to think back to when you were just a kid… What did you dream of being when you grew up? Who did you pretend to be?

The first person I remember pretending to be was Bo Duke. (Yeah, I know he was a character in a show and not a real person but you get the point…) To this day, I don’t know what Bo and Luke Duke did for a living. I know they helped Uncle Jesse on the farm but they spent a whole lot more time outrunning Roscoe than they ever did farming so I can’t imagine that kept much food on the table or paid their tab at the Boar’s Nest. The one thing that stands out about the Duke boys is that they were also helping someone…

Fast forward a few years to my first full time summer job as a carpenter. I remember thinking it was one of the coolest things ever that the guy who owned the company could wear jeans every day and help with the work from time to time but mainly did owner stuff, even though I really didn’t know what that owner stuff consisted of at the time. Similar to Bo and Luke, it seemed like Dan helped a lot of people; by providing jobs for those of us on his crews and by building homes for his clients.

Guess what I never gave the slightest bit of consideration to being… Some guy who showed up to an office each morning to check the proverbial boxes in a safety or human resources role! Somehow or another though, that’s exactly where I landed - and I got pretty stinking good in both fields. When I was able to see where my work was helping the people around me, I actually enjoyed it. But when I could no longer connect those dots, the misery soon followed! Don’t get me wrong here, I’m not belittling the safety and human resource professions; I’m being as transparent as I can be about my journey. And when I couldn’t connect what I was doing to a purpose strong enough to fight through the tough days, that journey became a lonely one.

Looking back, I can see a common theme between what I dreamed of being or doing and what gave me the most fulfillment in what I actually ended up doing. I’m convinced that understanding where we find that fulfillment and connecting the dots between what we dreamed of being as kids and what we do as adults is based on understanding our clear purpose!

Connecting with Our Childhood Dreams

Finding clarity in a purpose that fulfills us through even the toughest issues we deal with as leaders will require a definite answer to the question Why do you do what you do? Like the vast majority of people I know, the field I ended up in for the bulk of my adult life had very little to do with what I dreamed of being when I was a kid. With that being the case, I think it’s important to really consider what caused us to fantasize about those things to begin with; not just the fame and fortune that may have been associated with being an all star athlete or a movie star, but what aspect of it really appealed to us?

I guess as I think about it, there was a short period of time when I wanted to be a baseball star. I was really good, too - except for the running, hitting, and catching parts… But in complete transparency, I can’t recall a single time where I aspired to play any other professional sport even though the money and fame were certainly there. I think what drew me to baseball more than the rest combined was what I still enjoy about it today; it’s a team sport where even the smallest actions can contribute to the end results, there’s a ton of strategy involved, it’s not just about brute strength, and several of my family members enjoyed it.

Here’s where you may be asking, “Did Cindy leave Wes unsupervised again? Where’s he going with this?” While that’s often something to ponder, hang with me a bit here…

Every time Cindy and I work with groups or individuals today, we put a tremendous amount of energy into making sure whatever it is that we’re sharing can be easily received and can translate into action steps that achieve results. In baseball terms, we stack our lineup to have the best chance possible of getting on base and we make adjustments as needed. And just like the theme in Moneyball, we constantly drive the point that even the smallest action steps repeated with intention over time will produce results - as long as we measure the right things, like how often the guy gets on base…

It didn’t take all that long for me to come to terms with the fact that I’d probably never play baseball beyond farm league. But if I work to connect some of the most stressful things I do even today to the things I enjoyed most about baseball when I was a kid, the things that led me to briefly dream about doing that when I grew up, I can feel a sense of fulfillment that I just don’t get by simply going through the motions. The challenge is in tying these seemingly very different things together. When we’re able to do that, and ensure it’s around a purpose we can be passionate about, the work part becomes a much lighter burden. Then we just need to create a plan (or even better, a system) to keep it in front of us. But this requires understanding a few things about why we do what we do…

How We’re Wired From the Factory…

While I never played baseball beyond farm league, I did engage in beer league softball for an occasional tournament and with an actual team one fall season in my late teens and just barely into my twenties. I won’t elaborate on the primary appeal that had, I’ll stick to the actual game itself. I was never the fastest on any team I played for but I got on base consistently and usually didn’t stop running until I crossed the plate or was thrown out. Like so many other things I had done to that point, I was one of the youngest on those teams and did all I possibly could to produce results that matched or exceeded the older and more experienced (read: skilled) players. Since I had nearly no skill whatsoever, I attempted to compensate with sheer force - like trying to turn every single into a triple by doing anything I could to make someone drop the ball or by hitting a home run. By the time I could legally participate in the extracurricular activities involved in those leagues, I could bench press close to 300 pounds but for whatever reason I rarely hit the stupid ball out of the infield, which made getting past first base a feat of its own… That was so embarrassing! When the last bunch of guys I attempted playing on a team with were significantly older and way too serious about the actual games, I decided to lay that childhood dream to rest completely.

All that said, I had never really put a lot of time into any sport so it wasn’t all that disheartening to move on. What I had done quite a bit of to that point though was work! And in every kind of work I had done, starting with mowing yards, cutting firewood, or carpentering, working harder than most anyone else around me led to producing comparable results - even when I was younger, smaller, and far less skilled than everyone else I was working with. Interestingly enough, I never cared much about getting a pat on the back or being recognized in front of the group; I felt like the results were enough. And while I struggled to get great results in farm league baseball or beer league softball, that drive and work ethic played a critical part in getting some solid results in just about every job I’ve ever had. But being able to do something well and finding fulfillment in that don’t necessarily go hand in hand…

Previously, I shared how burnt out I felt the last few months of my final full time position, and looking for a tall bridge over heavy traffic (not really…). I had become pretty good at juggling all the tasks involved in the role and I was able to keep up with a fairly full to-do list. The challenge was that most of those to-do items were more about complying with regulations than getting results. For me at the time, and at any time for that matter, doing a task for the sake of complying just wasn’t something that gave me purpose! During those same few months, I was working as many hours in our own business - completely outside the hours I worked for that company - and don’t remember the slightest bit of fatigue. Looking back on that, it shows me the power of having a clear purpose.