I was talking with a client a few weeks ago about the importance of choosing strategy over tactics.
Strategy is about what you ultimately want.
Tactics are the way you get there.
My friend Russ says that tactics are about how can I make this chair (job, relationship, experience, life) better. Strategy is asking if I need a chair or if I should have a bench instead.
Strategy is more then simply choosing your battles; it’s pre-determining which differences between you and your situation are superficial and which are substantial, deeply held convictions that you just can’t -or won’t—negotiate on.
Tactics are tempting. They are exciting and edgy and a bit risky. They can sometimes seem sexy. But tactics without strategy will leave you exhausted and empty, and you can’t afford to put your valuable energy into anything that takes more from you than you will receive in return.
If, on any given day, we can discipline ourselves to put strategy before tactics, we will not regret it.
I went to my high school prom with a real gem. We managed to have a huge fight on the dance floor, mostly because I was having trouble kicking my addiction to drama (see previous post). At some point, due to my pathological need to take unhealthy relational dynamics to the next level, I turned and flounced off the dance floor. (“Flouncing” is the official term for what happens when one walks quickly while wearing a dress from the Jessica McClintock factory outlet.)
I walked up the stairs to the balcony, which encircled the dance floor from above. From where I was, I could look down and see the whole dance floor spread out below me. I had a perfect view of everyone still dancing…….including my date. Apparently my hysterical scene had failed to motivate him to do much more then make another attempt to “Rock the Casbah.”
At that moment, it hit me like a freight train. My date was quite possibly the most self-involved guy at the entire dance. Yet, he was having a great time vogue -ing while I was desperately trying to strike a worthy pose. As I surveyed the scene from above, I realized my own prom was actually happening right in front of me, while I had been impatiently waiting for a manufactured fantasy of my ideal prom experience to appear. I eventually got my groove together and descended the stairs a tiny bit wiser than I had ascended them. Back to life, back to reality.
I think about this moment often in my life when I know I need to find some perspective on what’s going on. In communication studies circles it’s called “going to the balcony”; probably not a direct shout-out to my personal prom experience, but one never knows.
The point of the maxim is that there are some things we can only know on the dance floor, but at some point we need to “go to the balcony” and reflect on what we are experiencing. That ensures that we will have the necessary distance to create an effective strategy for what to do next. We are then empowered to re-enter the dance floor with a new perspective. As well as a commitment to disavow anything that even resembles high school histrionics. Given.
My strategy at prom was to have an unforgettable experience with my date. My tactics were contemptible, hence the negative after-taste.
The question we need to answer is not:
“What will I have to give up to get what I want?”
The question is:
“Can I sacrifice enough in things that don’t matter so I can devote my life to the things that do?”
Going to the balcony helps you get clear on things like that. Also helps you get clear on why having your parents chaperone your prom is the worst idea since New Coke. But that’s another post.
Be shrewd, be mindful, be ever aware of what it is you really want. Become a person of prowess.
As long as you are clear on what does and doesn’t matter, the beat goes on.