Leadership lessons from my house fire last week
This past week, an electrical fire broke out in my basement. It was terrifying. I keep thinking about how lucky I am. I could have lost everything.
It was 8:30 AM on Thursday morning. I had just returned from dropping off my son at school. I smelled burning rubber from the basement. The odor was getting stronger, so I opened the basement door. There were sparks flying from my electrical box. It sounded like popcorn and looked like the 4th of July. I could feel the bursts crescendo-ing.
I called 911 and ran downstairs. I flipped all of the fuses off to slow down the fire. I then grabbed my laptop, my wallet and my dog and ran outside. I waited in the pouring rain on my front lawn as the fire department swarmed in to squelch the flames. Within 15 minutes, the energy company came and turned off my electricity.
As I stood on my lawn, smelling the smoke from my burning house, I felt so many big feelings. Mostly I felt alone. I felt the weight of everything. I’m divorced; I no longer have a husband to call. I don’t have parents I can call, either. I stood there with my sopping wet hoody, watching the firemen speed in and out my house, and I started to cry. I cried from the depths of my belly. I haven’t cried like that in a long time.
My nextdoor neighbor, Laura, texted me. She saw the trucks and wanted to know if I was okay. I thought hard about how to respond. My gut reaction was to say “I’m fine!” But, I knew I wasn’t okay. As a CEO and coach, I work really hard to manage myself and make it appear as though I am okay most of the time. I want to be strong enough for other people to lean on me when they need help and support. I try to buffer others from the ups and downs; I try to keep my calm and make problems disappear.
At that moment, when Laura asked if I was okay, I decided to say “No.”
She asked: “Do you need help?”
Again, I paused, thought about it, and I wrote “Yes.”
It was a really big deal for me to share that I’m not okay and I need help. I have this deep sense of self-reliance; I have a hard time leaning on others.
Laura came over and kept me company. Another neighbor came over, too. They sat with me for over an hour as the firemen squelched the fire and made sure my house was safe. It meant everything to me to have those two sitting with me. I wasn’t alone.
The firemen and my neighbors eventually left and I was left sitting by myself on my sofa, without electricity, drying off with my dog. My house reeked of smoke.
Two other neighbors texted me. They asked how they could help. I listened hard to my gut and answered “I’d love your company. Can you come over?”
They both came over within 5 minutes. They helped me open up all of the doors and windows in my house. They sat with me on my floor as I cried with relief.
It was so uncomfortable for me to ask for help. It was especially hard for me to ask for that help to just be human company - not a specific task or action. I was vulnerable; I showed my cards.
Later on that day, I remembered an important lesson I learned from my recent divorce: if you don’t tell your people that you are in crisis, you aren’t giving them the opportunity to step up and step in.
I decided to text my close friends and let them know what happened. I sent ripples out to my community and so many people heard my distress call. Friends and neighbors checked in on me over the coming days and made sure I had food while my house was without electricity.
The fire really shook me up. What if I hadn’t been home when the fire started? What if I was home just five minutes later? I couldn’t help my mind from wandering into alternative realities that very easily could have happened.
I didn’t tell my clients and teammates everything that happened. I tried to keep a professional composure over the next few days. I didn’t want my personal life to distract from my ability to show up and do the important work. But I did make sure to let everyone around me know that I’m not operating at full capacity and I had just experienced a fire at my house.
I share this story with you because it was such an important reminder to me about how we, as CEOs and as leaders, often carry the weight of it all on our shoulders. We are the most accountable people for everything. It often feels like we’re alone - but we’re not.
Even if you don’t share what’s going on with everyone within our organization, it’s important to reach out and get the support you need from your people - from your community - when you need it. If you don’t share what’s going on, you can’t receive help and support. We have to be vulnerable and ask for help - even if that help is having someone sit next to you while you wait for the storm to pass.
Leadership isn’t always about being stoic. It was incredibly hard for me to invite my neighbors over while crying deeply in front of them. But, sometimes, the only way to the other side is through the dark passage. We have to let ourselves feel the feelings.
I’m going to be thinking about this fire for weeks to come. Above all, I feel grateful and lucky. I feel it was a reminder of what matters: showing up for each other. Leadership is about leaning on others sometimes, too.
