The Wobble
Last weekend, I watched teenagers do things that made the audience gasp.
Flying through the air.
Balancing on unicycles.
Launching one another high above the stage.
Every act required extraordinary skill.
But it wasn't their talent that stayed with me.
It was their relationship with the wobble.
They expected it.
Everyone else expected it, too.
A missed footing wasn't treated as failure.
It was simply part of performing.
The goal wasn't to avoid wobbling.
It was to notice it quickly... adjust... and keep going.
The audience held its breath.
The performers kept moving.
It made me wonder how often leaders unintentionally create the opposite expectation.
We tell people to innovate.
To take risks.
To stretch themselves.
But we've never made it clear what they can expect when things don't go as planned.
Will someone coach them?
Will someone quietly have their back?
Will they become the story people tell after the meeting?
Will they be left to figure it out alone?
People aren't just deciding whether to take a risk.
They're deciding whether they trust what happens after the wobble.
Those young performers weren't fearless.
They knew something else.
They knew they weren't alone.
They knew the people around them expected the wobble.
They knew everyone had agreed to how they would respond.
That's what made extraordinary things possible.
Leadership isn't about convincing people they won't stumble.
It's about creating a team where everyone knows what to expect when someone does.
Because people become remarkably brave when they know they won't have to recover alone.
đź’ś Stacey
