Rickety Bridges

Cool name for the lead singer in a girl band, right? Rickety Bridges is my latest metaphor of the week. My metaphors are not standard-fare analogies but dive right into the cerebral deep end of the pool. People often use metaphors to explain complex ideas. I use deep metaphors to provide an even richer understanding of a particular issue I am facing in life.

 

Have you ever been out hiking and come upon a footbridge?  Not just any ordinary bridge, but one suspended over a vast canyon with a raging river below. It’s a terrifying view even from the safety of solid ground. And here’s the rub. This formidable path is the only route available to get you to where you need to go. There’s no going around it or under it. You must cross it. 

 

The moment your foot hits the first plank you feel how unstable it is. The boards creak, some are missing, and the wind whips it around unpredictably. If it were a short bridge, you’d just hurry across. No big deal. Just do it. But this is one long, formidable expanse. 

 

To prepare, you study it. You assess the risks and plan your strategy. At least the handrail looks sturdy enough. You remember the assurances of the guides who sent you on this mission. The bridge is quite safe. Just take your time and be smart, they advised. Oh, and don’t look down. But they’re not with you. Not now. You must do this alone. 

 

Sometimes life can feel like this. The power of the human brain to imagine things, to form images, ideas, and sensations purely in the mind is profound and uniquely human. Some call this the power of “Then.” I think of it as the power of “IF and then, THEN.” The “IFs” can often overwhelm us if we let them. They can also empower us and drive us forward. 

 

But I digress. our rock star Ms. Bridges is awaiting her introduction. Although life can certainly feel like we must cross many precarious bridges alone, Rickety Bridges as a metaphor serves a much narrower purpose, one that is far more personal. 

 

As a project manager, my job is to use teams to build bridges, each of which represents the objective of a particular project. We start with an idea, a goal in mind. We break things down, consider all factors, and devise a detailed plan on how we will successfully complete this project and ensure safe passage for all travelers to the other side. 

 

The design of the bridge is greatly dependent on its purpose. The project team, led by me, must discuss what is required, how it will be designed, procure the necessary materials, organize the work, and plan the correct sequence of activities based on complex dependencies, all of which is subject to change at a moment’s notice.  

 

But more and more, I’ve noticed a change. 

 

In recent years, unreasonable expectations are placed on both the project manager and the project teams. I get it. I know, we’re trying to do more with less. I’m not unused to challenges. 

 

For every obstacle that comes my way I handle without complaint. I scramble. I pitch in. I pivot. I regroup. I counsel people in distress, often talking people off ledges. I negotiate. We reach compromises. I motivate, and one way or another, we plunge ahead and just get ‘er done. Once a project has completed, it often takes me several days to come down from my heightened state of vigilance to relax and not check my phone every two minutes. In all my career, I’ve never failed at a project I’ve been assigned.

 

Queue Rickety Bridges. At present, I’m building not just one bridge, but half a dozen, simultaneously. Not little bridges, but big ones. Lots of traffic, heavy loads, and lots of visibility. Yet, I find more and more that resources assigned too often stand around arguing over things we’ve already agreed on. Why is this bridge needed? Why is it being built here and not over there? Granted, this is often not their fault. They were just recently assigned the project and have legitimate questions. Each time you add a new resource you exponentially increase the chance that something will not go as originally planned. 

 

Each resource plays a critical role and must identify and own the tasks for which they are responsible. Yet, more often they await direction, as if waiting for God to speak to them. They want someone else to tell them what to do, even though they were not assigned to merely take direction but were assigned to lead and to take action. Too often resources haven’t even been told they’ve been assigned to the project, and worse, many have never built a bridge before. Sure, they’ve driven on one. That must count for something.

 

And then, there are the project sponsors – the ones who wanted the bridge to be built in the first place. They are often nowhere to be found. They are scouting out new sites for more bridges.  

 

But, there is something I must also confess for full disclosure, a few more worrisome details to add to the complexity. I find myself in a position where I am managing projects well outside my core competencies. My expertise and background in leading IT projects doesn’t translate well to to the large manufacturing expansions and building construction projects I now lead. To complete my analogy, I don’t build bridges. I build roads. Now add to this the fact that as I get older, my adrenaline system which affects both mind and body is shot from all the years of stress. It has been overused, worn out, and seems now stuck in high drive. Even driving on a country road with a dip on the other side of a narrow shoulder sets me on edge. Now imagine the vertigo I feel from the cliffs and frightening precipices I am working at building bridges in the wilderness. 

 

Once again I rediscover how all things are connected. The changing dynamics in the workforce and in the world today, undertrained workers who are taught not to question but to follow directions, and an experienced, but aging workforce on the brink of retirement because the added stress is simply too much—all of these factors add up. 

 

My metaphor has certainly given me perspective, although I have not yet come to any clear conclusions. I understand more clearly why my heart is often pounding, why my hands are sweaty, and the reason I have an overwhelming sense of impending doom, knowing that a stream of big heavy trucks are rumbling towards each of my bridges, all coming at great speed, and each trucker fully expects their particular bridge will be ready for safe passage. 

 

In conclusion, it seems that Rickety Bridges may have a permanent gig. Her band may soon be booked solid as the nightly act. And, we may ultimately discover that we didn’t even need all those bridges after all. Maybe we really needed a few good roads.