I’m reading Creativity, Inc.: Overcoming the Unseen Forces That Stand in the Way of True Inspiration, a book that sounds like it’s about creativity but so far (I’m 24% through) is about leadership. I love it.
It’s written by one of the founders of Pixar, which has made some of my absolutely favorite movies. Ed Catmull is so open and conversational about the trials and triumphs of his journey building Pixar that I want to be his friend (and ask him to mentor me).
I’m in the chapter about the creation of Toy Story 2 – the first Pixar movie I watched. Pulling off that movie required months of grueling work after firing the directors they first hired to helm the film. Ed writes,
It was the first time we gave a position to someone believing they could do it, only to find that they couldn’t.
It sounds excruciating for everyone involved. Ed and his partners had to realize their mistake and fire the directors. The directors were fired and informed they were not the right people for this role.
Can you imagine how much that sucked?
- There you are, the owners of a precarious movie animation studio with a ton of money on the line. You realize that the people you hired, the folks you entrusted to take care of this important project, couldn’t do it.
- There you are, the directors of a meaningful and promising film for a new, cutting edge studio. You’re told in no uncertain terms that you’re out, because you couldn’t do the job you were hired to do.
Everyone feels bad: guilty, ashamed, disappointed, self-recriminating.
Yet we know, intellectually, that not everyone is right for every role. Not every relationship will last forever. Some people won’t be the right fit for your assistant, marketing manager, mentor, coach. Or they WILL be the right fit, for a little while, and then it’s time to change. Of course – we and our needs are evolving, and the influences we require to keep the momentum going must evolve as we do.
So why is coming to grips with this reality SO fraught with painful emotion?
Well… you don’t want to hurt anyone. You don’t want to tell someone she’s not the right fit. And I think it’s because although we know, intellectually, that it’s not personal… it feels personal. Because we all have the fear, deep down, that there’s something wrong with us.
One of my mentors and inspirations, Jen Dziura, reframed it to me like this: imagine you meet someone and develop a crush on her. You start fantasizing about what a great partner she’d be, how fun it would be to date her. Then you learn that she’s dates men, and you’re a woman. It makes no sense to take that personally, right? It’s not about YOU – you’re just not the right fit for her.
I might not be the right fit for some of my clients – now and in the future. They might not be the right fit for me. I must remind myself: it’s not personal.