⏰ Climbing The “Wrong” Ladder?
In the famous book, “7 Habits of Highly Effective People”, Steven Covey wrote, “If the ladder is not leaning against the right wall, every step we take just gets us to the wrong place faster.” This statement requires no explanation. But ever since I read this book (a long time ago), I’ve been troubled by two things. First, nobody intentionally sets out to climb the wrong ladder. Second, a lot of times we don’t discover we are on the wrong ladder till we get to the top. (One of the most common examples of this is found in the idea that money can buy us happiness. Too many people spend their lives in the pursuit of money and, once they have accumulated it, discover that the happiness they expected does not appear.)
Nobody sets out to climb the wrong ladder. So, Covey tries to help us by saying we need to “Begin with the end in mind.” Well, yes, but I think that presupposes that we know what the end should be, and most of us don’t. I certainly did not, and perhaps still don’t. There are a number of things going on inside me as I write this that are troubling. For instance, the metaphor of climbing the ladder is, again, for me, a bit problematic. Ladders are finite in length. There is an implication that we can reach the top of the ladder and, therefore, that the journey is finite, linear and done. It is not. What might be the perfect ladder for us at age 20 and where we need to be climbing at age 35 can be two entirely different things. Ditto for age 50, Ditto again for age 65. You get the idea.
In fairness to Covey, his book is about the habits of highly effective people and as we look around us, it is clear that many, many people do not even make a conscious choice about beginning with the end in mind or which ladder to start to climb. So, beginning with ANY end in mind, consciously selected, is a step up for much of society.
But as I am writing this, a third thing has come to my awareness that I find troubling. What if? What if there is no “wrong” ladder? I suggested that the ladder you need at age 20 and what is appropriate for you at age 35, or 50, or 65 might be different. What if each of them is not just appropriate, but actually necessary? In my vocational career, I’ve shifted from being an engineer to a contractor to a consultant to a trainer to a different kind of consultant. The ladder I am climbing now (the ladder of being a “writer”) would likely not have been possible without all the other ladders I’ve climbed, at least from the standpoint of what I write about. On reflection (cause you usually don’t see it while you are in the middle of it), I can see how each ladder led to a different ladder. And some of the ladders did not appear at all until I had reached the top of the previous one. So, in a certain way of looking at it, each ladder was perhaps right, perhaps wrong, but definitely a necessary one.
One of the things Covey’s book tries to do, in my opinion, is bring clarity to what separates exceptional from ordinary by defining those seven habits. Great. But it is rare for an individual to simply and cleanly implement those. Ladders are straight paths with a definitive beginning and ending point that form a linear, neat, straight line. Life doesn’t work that way. And the image is climbing the ladder. Sometimes, to make progress, you might need to descend, for example, by discarding the “good” so you can say yes to the “best.” And life certainly isn’t linear. It may be chronologically, but not in terms of our personal journeys through it.
Now, I may be guilty of overstretching the metaphor. Metaphors are great for illustrating ideas and clarifying complex or abstract ones, but we probably shouldn’t take them literally, and I may be doing so too much. But Life rarely presents us with a nice, clean, clear path where “climbing a ladder “ is the perfect metaphor. We tend to treat life decisions (the ladders we pick) as permanent and irreversible. It makes far more sense to realize that most decisions we make are very reversible. When we recognize that a decision is no longer serving us, we can alter our course, adjust, and continue moving forward. I’m a pilot and used to own an airplane. When I would take off to fly from point A to point B, if I pointed the airplane at point B and held that course heading, I would never get there, because the winds aloft would blow me off course. So, I would point my airplane’s nose off point B, a bit into the wind, to stay on course. And the wind would often shift, requiring many course corrections. (And I did not go back to point A and start over when I drifted off course. I kept going.)
Then there’s another really interesting thing that happens with ladders. They choose you. There are times in our lives when we walk past some ladder (not choosing it) and then, further along the way, the same ladder appears. Hmmm? When this happens, again, if you are suitably awake, you start asking yourself just what this ladder represents and, perhaps, why you might be avoiding it! (Back in Issue 14, we discussed this same idea around the Rumi quote, “What you seek is seeking you.”)
So, here is the thing. When a ladder appears twice, that is no longer an invitation. It’s more of a demand.
Life is not subtle when it wants your attention. Most people ignore these patterns because they do not like what they think the ladder is demanding of them. Growth, risk, exposure, feeling unprepared. All the things we want to avoid.
But you are responsible for what you avoid. Avoidance is a choice. And choices have consequences.
So, the real question is not which ladder is right. The real question is:
Which ladder has been following you, and what price are you paying by refusing to climb it? (And stop pretending you don’t know what it is!)
If you found this issue helpful and want to hear more from Greg, be sure to subscribe to his podcast, Pants Around Ankles Prevention, where each episode delivers a punch of truth to help you wake up, gain perspective, and live with greater clarity and purpose. Listen and subscribe now on Apple Podcasts or YouTube.
This issue was originally published by Greg Hayne on Substack.