I just picked up the classic peak performance bestseller “The Inner Game of Tennis” by Tim Gallwey.  Published over 30 years ago, I'm struck by what the author knew about how people learn.  Gallwey doesn’t speak specifically to left and right brain capabilities, but many of his principals and tips point directly to the power of using your whole mind to improve in a specific area, in this case tennis.   What I find most fascinating about the book is how Gallwey’s principals apply to my own experiences with leadership development. 

In 2003 I experienced many of these principals at work when I completed a ropes course as part of a year-long leadership program.  I remember my first challenge quite vividly.  I was on a platform 15 yards up in the trees preparing to cross a vertical rope and wood ladder with, what seemed to my over-anxious mind, like pretty flimsy belay gear between me and the hard forest ground.  Navigating this course successfully taught me so much about myself and applying Gallwey’s ideas to my experience brings it all back in a new and meaningful way.  

Before each ropes event, the facilitator spent time with each of us helping us get a clear vision for how we wanted to cross the challenge.  In the book Gallwey talks about this in terms of focusing on results rather than process.  Now with this first obstacle, I was not able to be present to my vision once I was up in the trees. It was only on the third challenge that I began to see how much more powerful the experience could be if I not only focused on making it across, but focused on the result I wanted to create.

While the control centers of my brain instructed me to “just get across the *#%~ structure as fast as you can!”  I somehow knew that forcing a crossing would be neither elegant nor effective.   I remember trying to break my walk down into each precise movement that I needed to make. It quickly became apparent that this wasn’t helpful either.  (Gallwey writes in his book about how breaking a skill down into its component parts actually puts your analytical mind to work in a way that is not helpful to increasing your skill level.) Instead, I discovered that when I relaxed and let go enough for my body and instincts to find their way, I was able to find a more natural walk to make the crossing.  In letting it happen rather than forcing myself across, I was much more present to my own experience and ironically more centered and in control. 

I also learned new things about how much my judgments get in the way of what I want.  As long as I was listening to the voice inside my head that was telling me all the reasons why I wasn’t strong enough, brave enough or agile enough to cross that rope ladder without falling, I was paralyzed at one end of the structure.  Yet if I listened to my own advice, the best antidote to my internal critic is curiosity and observing rather than judging my experience.

Now I can’t say that I was able to get truly curious about my experience, but by ignoring the voice of my critic, I was able to increase my awareness of the magic in the moment.  I was able to notice the beauty in the day, the smile on the face of the ropes instructor standing across the way and the encouraging words of my colleagues below. And with these things foremost in my mind many of my fears and judgments about what I could or couldn’t do melted away.  

My ability to get across each structure with some grace and agility became less important than how good it felt to test myself and learn that I can get over my own fears.  At the time I didn’t realize that my intuitive, holistic right brain was my ally throughout this process – I simply decided to trust what my body already knew about walking and ignore what my logical mind thought about being 30 feet off the ground.  It was a truly powerful, life-changing experience.  My key takeaway was that my ability to relax and trust myself is a key catalyst for me in creating what I want in my leadership and my life. 

In sharing this story, it strikes me once again how physical challenges, whether navigating a ropes course or improving in tennis, are so instrumental to me in learning about myself.