The crisp autumn air carried a hint of anticipation as I watched the senior leaders of the organization trickle into the secluded retreat center. It was an ordinary Wednesday turned extraordinary—a day stolen from the relentless march of deadlines and meetings. Their faces wore a mix of curiosity and skepticism, eyes darting to phones as if counting the mounting notifications.
I smiled inwardly. Today, those notifications would go unanswered.
As the last arrival settled in, I cleared my throat. “Welcome,” I began, “to a day of seeing yourselves—and your organization—in a mirror of your own making.”
Eyebrows raised. A few exchanged glances. I could almost hear their thoughts: Another buzzword-filled workshop?
But as I unveiled the Reinventing Organizations map, something shifted. The rustle of paper gave way to focused silence as each leader pored over their personal copy. It was as if they were seeing their professional world with new eyes.
We dove in. The room came alive with stories, opinions, and vulnerabilities shared with surprising openness. Fear and hope danced in their words as they spoke of emotional safety, experimentation, and consensus. The team leader caught my eye, a look of wonder crossing his face. “Is this really possible for us?” his expression seemed to ask.
As the day progressed, individual assessments were quietly entered into the system. The air grew thick with anticipation as we gathered around the screen for the reveal of their collective map.
The silence that fell was profound. I watched realization dawn in their eyes—they were seeing themselves, their team, their organization laid bare in data and diagrams. They huddled closer, voices low and intense as they began to dissect what they saw.
“But we’ve never been able to change that!” one voice rose in frustration.
“If we say anything is possible,” came the steady reply, “then we can figure out how. Together.”
I couldn’t help but smile. They were teetering on the edge of transformation, and they knew it.
Playing devil’s advocate, I challenged them. “Why change at all? You’re comfortable. You’ve got your routines. These are your ‘favorite bad feelings.’ What happens if you let them go?”
To my delight, they argued back as one. Their voices rose and fell, passing the torch of conviction from one to another. They weren’t just convincing me—they were convincing themselves of the need, the desire, the hunger for change.
“What if nothing changed?” I prodded further. “What would stagnation mean for each of you? And what does progress offer?”
The atmosphere shifted again. Now, it wasn’t just about the team or the organization. It was personal. One by one, they shared their individual connections to change, their hopes, their fears. The air itself seemed to vibrate with attention and empathy.
As the day drew to a close, the energy was palpable. They had found their targets for improvement, insistent on scheduling the next session to dive deeper. The room buzzed with rapid-fire conversations, colleagues sharing appreciations and aspirations for change.
In the final moments, as the last team member rose to speak, I saw tears glistening in his eyes. He began to clap, a slow, deliberate rhythm that was quickly joined by the others. Normally, such displays make me uncomfortable, but this time, I found myself on my feet, applauding right along with them.
In that moment of shared triumph and vulnerability, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. This wasn’t just another Wednesday off work. This was the day a group of leaders looked in the mirror and saw not just who they were, but who they could become.
And they were ready to make that vision a reality.