
Captain’s Log: Any given flight, any given day, any given year.
Today you are conducting the symphony of your life, which, if you think about it, is pretty awesome. Still, reality sometimes intrudes, and our symphonies go out of tune. Case in point…
The early 2000s was the era of bankruptcy in the airline industry. In December of 2002, United became the first to go there, and it went in hard. United’s was, at that point, the longest, most expensive bankruptcy in the history of commercial aviation. And our symphonies went badly out of tune.
As you likely know, the point of bankruptcy is to cut costs, and United’s management embraced that mission with gusto. In such situations, worker pay and benefits represent low-hanging fruit, and pilots among the subgroups of labor are particularly easy targets. Pilots saw their wages cut by 50% on average.
Think about that for a minute. How do you manage a 50% pay cut? “Let’s see… I’ll eat on even-numbered days. I’ll use water on odd-numbered days. I’ll use the air conditioner in the winter!” You’d be right to imagine those cuts generated some conversations in our cockpits.
Let’s pause there for now, and think about how a typical flight, say, from Los Angeles to London, unfolds over the first few hours of flight.
It’s late afternoon. The sun is bright as it descends behind you toward the Pacific Ocean, the jet’s operating well, the weather’s good, the air is smooth. You cross the San Bernardino Mountains at around 25,000’ climbing to 35,000’, and you can see Las Vegas in the distance.
You finish your post-take-off housekeeping tasks and start to relax into the 10-hour cruise. And before you know it, you’re talking about the Dodgers and Rockies. Or the Avalanche. Or whatever your favorite team is for the time of year. Those light-hearted conversations take you over Denver and Chicago. They’re fun and pass the time, and they have little consequence.
That’s any flight, any day, any year. Now let’s bring bankruptcy back into the cockpit.
Somewhere between Chicago and the east coast the atmosphere in the cockpit changes. You find out that your Captain has two kids. One has special needs, the other has the potential to be an Olympic athlete. Both are expensive endeavors. And you start to wonder how she’s making it with the pay cuts.
Your conversation has just gone deep.
Have you ever had one of those conversations with a colleague, one that goes beneath the surface? Is there someone you work with who really wants to know you on a deeper, more human level – beyond the platitudes? That’s a conversation that matters.
As you head out over the North Atlantic at 35,000’, it’s now the middle of the night. The passengers are asleep, the flight attendants relaxing on their jump seats. And you turn to your Captain and ask, “So really. How are you doing? Are you making it? Are you gonna be able to keep your house? Your car? How are you making it? Did you send your stay-at-home husband back to work to pay for that Olympic-level coach? Did you take another job outside of United? Have you started your own business?”
At that point in our lives, the questions came from two values. First, we were all genuinely looking out for each other. There were signs of social pathologies around all of us, harms like personal bankruptcy, divorce, and even suicide, that all exceeded population norms. Second, because we were all struggling, we were all looking for ways to bring in enough outside income to keep roofs over our heads, clothes on our backs and food in our families’ bellies. Many of us joined multiple network-marketing schemes or picked up real estate licenses. And we wanted to hear how our colleagues had found success in those ways or others. For both reasons, we always hoped the answers to all those questions would be “yes” in every circumstance.
The bankruptcy lasted more than three years. United wallowed along until January of ‘06, and at that point those conversations became less frequent as we settled into our new post-bankruptcy reality and did our best to move on. I earned my first real estate commission in 2005; 2006 was a good year, then shortly after United exited bankruptcy, the real estate market started to soften. My goal for growing my business in 2007 was to double what I’d earned in 2006. I didn’t make that goal. In fact, I did about half the business I’d done in the previous year. Then 2008 arrived bringing the Great Recession with it, and real estate became a whole new ball game.
My symphony went out of tune all over again. As had the symphonies of pretty much everyone I knew – not just airline pilots.
When that happens, what do you do? If you’re like me, you start asking questions.
Like, “Has this sort of worldwide calamity happened before?” Of course, it had. In a previous essay we explored this idea for a different reason and on a different scale. But the larger truth applies here just as well. Challenges are inevitable. What matters is how we respond.
Back then, we looked to five philosophers from the past for some perspective. Our present thoughts invite us to revisit one of them. Remember Plato? He’s the one who gave us something to do. He told us to, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle you know nothing about.”
How does that apply here? So glad you asked!
My business was going backward, and I didn’t know how to stop that trend, so I went to my real estate coach, Jim Slinkard, and asked for help. With decades of experience under his belt, it didn’t take long for him to guide me into creating a plan. He gave some specific marketing techniques, along with a few tried-and-true lead-generating practices. And then we set up a weekly coaching session to talk about how the week had gone.
The first week came and went. I didn’t make my numbers. Second week, same thing. Weeks went by and I didn’t hit my goals a single time.
I was failing. And I was angry about that. That’s not me. I was an airline pilot and former military officer. I had a track record of accomplishment.
After far-too-many weeks of executing against the plan with basically nothing to show for it, I was in Jim’s office for one of my coaching sessions, enthusiastically helping him understand my frustration. He let me go on for a while. Then he stopped me and said, “You know, if you keep this up, at best you’re going to burn out. At worst, your health is going to suffer. I know you’re here at midnight making photocopies of your contracts in between your trips. I know you’re doing the best you can with the time you have. I also know that we need to learn to be kind to ourselves. All we can do is all we can do. Be kind to yourself. In fact, just be kind.”
A different perspective on Plato’s famous guidance. Simple, though not necessarily easy.
And a conversation that mattered to me. All these years later I’m still learning to be kind to myself when hard battles come my way. And I watch for people around me who are clearly meeting life head-on. And I look for little instances of kindness.
Just last week my gate agent came into the cockpit to let us know we had a special passenger on board. She was a “Make-A-Wish” Foundation participant on her way to London. By definition, her world was desperately out of tune. He didn’t have to, but the Captain asked the agent to invite this young passenger to come up to the cockpit for pictures before our flight. Next thing I knew, she was sitting in the Captain’s seat wearing his hat, hands on the yoke and throttles, cheesing for her dad as he snapped pictures of United’s newest “Captain.”
It was a little gesture, a small kindness. But the Captain turned her long journey into an adventure in restoration from the start.
Thus endeth the lesson; time for the quiz.
1). Are you looking for little opportunities to be kind to yourself until your current hard battle subsides (25 points)?
2). How can you help someone else fight his or her hard battle and restore harmony (25 points)?
3). When do you have “conversations that matter,” and what in your world are they about (50 points)?
Submit your answers via email to Captain Mark here: mark@symphonyofyourlife.com.
Thanks for reading!