Vocation and Leadership

I was very fortunate last week to be able to focus on a thing we don’t often talk about as leaders. Or in some industries, ever. But for senior leaders especially - and this is truer the higher up your leadership sits - this topic becomes a critical and crucial conversation.

Vocation.

Now, I know the objections or confusion likely to come up. “What the heck does vocation have to with leadership?” “That’s for priests or doctors or teachers or whatever, not leaders.” Well, I believe a steady engagement with vocation creates stronger institutions because it creates more thoughtful and effective leaders.

Ironically, maybe, my first encounter with questions of vocation came when I was a teenager. I thought I was “called” to be a priest in the Anglican/Episcopal Church. In that tradition there is a fairly extensive discernment process. I shadowed a parish priest, I was assigned a mentor, I went through a series of rigorous interviews and assessments. I framed this for myself as what I would “do” with my life and talents.

And I was very certain.

I passed all those systems and went to seminary for a half-year before I knew it was not what I was called to do … or be. There were three things that happened before seminary that, on reflection, were giving me the first important lesson about vocation and discernment: listening. One of my priest mentors, in one of our conversations said, “You know Peter, there are lots of ways to be a teacher other than a pulpit.” My undergraduate mentor and advisor, when I asked him for a letter of recommendation for the seminary, looked at me steadily then said, “I will, but not gladly. You’d have made a damn fine Latin scholar.” And most loudly for my deaf spirit, in a final conversation at a retreat, taken while we walked along a country road, the interviewer said, “What will you be if we say ‘No’, Peter?” I commented that I would happily go back to study Latin. He asked the question two more times before I realized I was giving the wrong answer.

You see, vocation is not really about being called to do something. It’s about being called to be something. And it requires deep listening. I was listening to the information that was confirming my assumptions. Could I have been an effective priest? Probably. Would I have been a good priest? Over time? I honestly don’t know. I do know that without understanding my vocation more clearly, I would not have been.

I do know that I found a vocation as an entrepreneurial teacher and researcher, leading students to ask good questions, develop skills, and look for answers themselves. I do know that I found a vocation that drew people to big questions, that touched human lives in (I hope) transformational ways. And I know that I still carry that vocation as an executive coach and consultant.

OK, so, leadership. Here I was in a room of extremely talented senior higher education leaders, asking big questions about what it really means to be a leader and why it is ESSENTIAL to understand who we are, what we believe, and why we lead. More important, this vocation of leadership-being has to align with the institutions we serve, as much as possible.

We do not “do” leadership. We “are” leaders. We are led to leadership by peers and mentors who see something in us. The greatest leaders are called to leadership by something inside themselves too. It is so easy to listen only to the information that confirms our assumptions. It is so easy to get caught up in the doing. It is so easy (too easy) to get caught up in the priorities and assumptions of the people around us and the apparent needs of the institution or organization we serve. This is a cognitive and spiritual trap that lays the preconditions for burnout. But we need reflection and quiet to truly listen, deeply, to what is calling us.

Why do you lead? What do you believe about leadership? Have you ever written a personal mission statement? Does it match your organization’s? Do you take time to listen to the voices outside and inside you? When was the last time you asked questions like this of yourself or the people you lead?

I’m struck by that phrase “I spent my life climbing the ladder, and then realized I put it against the wrong wall.” What would our organizations be like if conversations about leadership always included conversations about vocation?

I’m fortunate. I was introduced to vocational discussions early in life and they stuck with me. Through my different, crucial, moments I became more willing to be influenced by the questions wise people were asking me. And when I burned out, I was able to reestablish a path towards joy in work by listening to myself, finally - by asking the important questions. This wasn’t conscious engagement with my sense of vocation, I’ll be honest. But the conversations I had had about vocation over my training and career had laid some seeds.

I was asked last week what my big take-away was from the conference. I answered, “I realize I have been holding on to the thread of my vocation for my whole life without always being aware of it.” This takeaway was peacefully empowering. I know what I am called to be. It will be reflected, hopefully, in much of what I do. But doing is not what I am choosing - I am not choosing the road even though I’ll enjoy it and walk it. I’m choosing how I walk that road and who I walk it with. That feels like a big difference.

Oh, and the thread of my vocation? That idea came from this poem by William Stafford, one of the readings for the conference.

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among

things that change. But it doesn’t change.

People wonder about what you are pursuing.

You have to explain about the thread.

But it is hard for others to see.

While you hold it you can’t get lost.

Tragedies happen; people get hurt

or die; and you suffer and get old.

Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.

You don’t ever let go of the thread.

What threads are you holding tight to? What threads do you need to pick up again? If you are feeling lost in your leadership and need help - I'm here. You don't need to explain.