Many years ago, as a young engineer, I never thought about playing a bigger game. I just wanted to do my job, get paid, and go home to a quiet evening with my husband. What I’ve discovered over the years, as I’ve played a bigger game–connecting with more innovative thinkers, taking on more pioneering projects, and dreaming of what can be instead of what can’t be–is that it isn’t as hard as it once seemed.
The difference between approaching an industry guru and a colleague in a cubicle down the hall is smaller than you think. It’s not what you know or even who you know, but who you are. Are you interested and interesting? Are your intentions grounded in mutual learning vs. individual gain? Can you keep your Gremlins at bay and stop the chattering voices that make everything personal? The same goes for taking on small doable projects vs. big, juicy, can’t-wait-to-get-out-of-bed initiatives. Or letting myself aspire to huge visions.
I still like to be seen as competent. And if I can get over myself enough to ask the dumb questions, admit what I don’t know, and let my passion emerge, I find that the people who come into my life are working on trend-setting projects, doing world changing things and are just as passionate about what’s possible. It excites and inspires me. And soon we’re talking the same language, on the same team, and asking each other great questions.
Here’s the paradox: In playing a bigger game, the "I" in the human equation gets smaller. It’s not about me. It’s about something bigger than me. Once ego and arrogance come into the picture, it ruins the whole thing.
This video (sent to me by one of my sports-loving friends) captures what it feels like when you play a bigger game. It’s pure joy, creativity, and being in the groove.