Self-awareness is about getting to know yourself. It is important to our well-being and is an essential element of leadership. You have lived with yourself for a long time so presumably knowing yourself shouldn’t be too hard, should it? Reflective practice is one of the strategies we are told we can use to know ourselves, to become more self-aware, but it’s not that easy!
There are some things we don’t want to know about ourselves; the shadow side, the darker parts that we don’t want to face up to. Despite the fact that we might often beat ourselves up, don’t believe in ourselves and think we are not good enough; the hardest thing we can do when we self-reflect is to look at the ‘bad’ bits. The message “I’m not good enough” is a general one, not based on any specific information and so can float around without any firm foundation. We often don’t really want to look at what we have actually done to make us feel that way.
We dismiss looking at the ‘bad’ bits
because it feels horrible to look at them. When we examine the ‘bad’ moments it’s as though we are re-living them. The moment when we could have sunk through the floor because we said or did the wrong thing. That moment visualized again makes our stomach churn; we emit an almost audible groan from deep within when we think about it. Our response is to tuck that one away in some deep dark cupboard that we don’t access very often and lock the door.
Unfortunately the cupboard doors can fling themselves open at the most awkward of times. Maybe that ‘fling the cupboard door open’ moment happens when we are standing on the stage ready to do a presentation, when we meet the new person we are trying to impress; a moment of quiet when we want to relax. We stand there tongue tied, humiliated, transported to that previous time we really want to forget, our confidence shattered, our humiliation complete. Sometimes we can’t even remember what it is we are hiding in the cupboard. It just surfaces as a faint unease, a recognition we have been here before and we didn’t handle it very well.
If only we had the courage to grab the door knob and open that cupboard door ourselves, to stand there and examine its contents, to say in a loud, courageous voice “I know you are in there, come out so we can talk about this!”
I had such an incident a few weeks ago, one that I would rather not examine, one that I would rather tuck away in the back of the cupboard. I was asked to help time a speech competition. I was a bit reluctant at first, I had come along to enjoy the speeches not concentrate on the timing and miss the nuances and drama that often is part of these competition speeches. Wanting to support the organisers I agreed to time the speeches along with the other person allocated the task. His name was Jonathan; he was a quiet, shy person but assured me he was experienced at timing competition speeches so I said I would depend on his expertise.
The first section went well. 
We noted times and switched the green orange and red lights at the appropriate time for the speakers to know how much time they had left to speak. Next it was time for the judges to adjourn. They were allocated five minutes to consider how the speaker had performed based on the competition criteria. I went to switch on the timer. “No” said Jonathan, “we don’t need to time this”. Hmm I said “but how will they know when time is up?” Jonathan assured me the convening judge would time them. I said “well, it won’t hurt to time them anyway,” as I reached to turn on the timer once again. “No” he repeated you don’t need to. I felt unsure, intuitively thinking – it won’t hurt to have the timer on, but he was the expert so I turned the switch back to “off” and waited quietly for the judges to return to the room. The minutes ticked away on the clock on the wall and the chief organizer approached us and asked “how long have the judges been out, can we call them back into the room yet?” I was horrified. I knew it! We were supposed to time them all along. Next out of my mouth came the words “he told me not to time them” I was doubly horrified, did I really say that, what had possessed me, why was I blaming my fellow timer? It was an honest mistake, no big deal, why did I feel the need to lay the blame on him? I was ashamed. I said to the chief judge “sorry, I didn’t turn the timer on” and turned to Jonathan and said “sorry, I don’t think it was that important.” Fortunately the judges emerged from the room, in what seemed like the 5 minute time limit and I could reiterate “not that important”. I still felt bad but continued on with the timing for the rest of the night without any hitches.
It was very difficult for me to reflect on this situation. My immediate response had been to blame Jonathan and to say “he told me not to” like a five year old child. Even at the thought of having said it the embarrassment crept up my body, my face was red, glowing like a light bulb in the dark and my head hung in shame. What had possessed me? I didn’t want to think about it but I knew this is not the first time I have reacted this way.
On reflection I realised that I had been brought up to obey the rules. We had also battled in our family to be right; loud heated debates ended up with someone being right and all t
he rest of us had to be wrong. The speech competition had been in a very structured situation, bound by very strict rules. I wanted to be seen to be doing the right thing to obey the rules. I also neded to be seen to be right; which I felt I had been, if only I hadn’t listened to Jonathan. I had done what he had told me and that meant we were both wrong. Now, I wanted everyone to know that I had been right and Jonathan had been wrong. When the judges asked for the time it had been like a moment of triumph, my immediate thought had been “see I told you so”; but it was a short-lived triumph when I realized how petty that was. I had won, but really I had lost. I had lost my dignity, I had lost my integrity, I had shown disrespect to Jonathan.
I examined other aspects of the situation. Why had I given away my authority to Jonathan by letting him be the expert? I realised that not only had my need to be right over-ridden my dignity, but also I wasn’t really taking responsibility for the role. I had not wanted to help the organisers and take on the role. I didn’t want to be held accountable and put myself in a position to make a mistake.
I thought back to a time as a child when I had been asked to lead a team at the local youth club. I was so proud of myself. I worked hard to model very good behavior but in the process had not had as much fun as the other kids. I had sat on the side-lines, watching; making sure my team didn’t give up any of the points that we were accumulating to contest for the top team of the year. And yes, we did it! We received the highest points and we won the cup. I can still remember that moment when I was given the cup as the team leader. One of the team went to take the cup away to hold it up for everyone to see. I hadn’t held the cup for long enough, I jerked back as he went to take the cup. Realising what I had done I handed it to him so he could hold it aloft for the team to share. I felt humiliated at my first response. What a horrible selfish thing to do. I wonder about the lasting impacts of my self-inflicted humiliation (I am not sure anyone else noticed). Is this the reason I have been reluctant to take on a leadership role? Am I afraid to expose myself? People might see the real me the selfish person who isn't a true team leader. I might be put in a position of responsibility and act inappropriately and be humiliated.
Now I have examined these incidents, I can put them in perspective. “Am I a bad person?” “No”. Did I live my values?” “No”. However, I did have the courage to look at these events, to dig deeper into the back of the cupboard and haul out some of that stuff I had been hiding there for a while; the courage to examine my shadow side. I didn’t like it, but I certainly feel better for it. I know now that I am less likely to jump to blame another person again, less likely to feel the need to be right above all other things. I know now what holds me back from taking responsibility – that fear of making a mistake and humiliating myself in front of everyone. That means I can deal with it. I can learn to lead, take responsibility, but be part of the team and share the rewards.
My cupboard feels bright and airy, like it’s had a spring clean. As I clean out the junk and clutter I hope that I don’t just replace it with a whole lot of other stuff. Somehow I know I might shove a few things in the cupboard, but it won’t get too cluttered. I will deal with it as I go. I don’t have that fear of what I might find. After all, it’s just clearing out a bit of junk and getting on with living my life so that I can live my life to the full and reach my true potential.
Try cleaning out your cupboard – we all have those moments we would rather not reflect on but it feels really good when it’s done. The rewards are amazing.
You will know yourself better, be more self-aware. You will be able to deal with those past experiences that hold you back from being the best that you can be; you will reveal the leader within!