The day I trusted my gut over my agenda
Have you ever had a moment when you suddenly realized that your plan wasn’t going to work?
That the thing you’d spent so much time on, put so much effort into, and thought about so carefully wasn’t going to produce the result you were after?
Not too long ago, I was about an hour into leading a high-stakes session for a team when I got this feeling in my gut: The agenda I had prepared wasn’t going to accomplish what I hoped.
What I did next surprised even me—and I think it’s an example of what’s possible when you set aside your ego, lean into self-trust, and lead from a place of genuinely wanting to serve.
Here’s the story . . .
I was hired to help the leadership team of a major company navigate an intense period of change. My job was to show them how they could leverage this opportunity for growth.
When I say I prepared for this session, I mean I did everything I could think of to ensure its success. That’s not unusual—I always invest time and intention into the sessions I lead—but with this one, I took some extra steps.
In the months prior, I met with each member of this leadership team individually and asked them what they thought was the best use of our time together. I used their feedback to refine key aspects of the agenda and make sure our session was everything they wanted it to be. We would be spending a couple of days together, and I wanted to make every second count.
The agenda went through several iterations. I thought about it almost constantly for weeks, adding things here and there to make it better and more impactful. My team and I also created a workbook to go along with it, and I’d made sure we used language that reflected my interviews with the team so that they would really feel seen.
By the time it was all done, I was so proud of it. I felt like it was some of my best work—a 10 out of 10. I had no doubt that the session we had crafted together was the one that would serve the team best.
Leading sessions like this one, especially when a team is at a pivotal moment, is a huge responsibility. They have to put so much trust in me as the person who is guiding and holding space for them, and my involvement can make or break this moment. It’s a lot of pressure.
I’ve led many sessions like this over the years, and what I've learned is that the best thing I can do while I facilitate is remain as present as I humanly can. I need to be so tuned in to the people in the room that I can pick up on subtle cues and shifts in energy. It might sound a little woo-woo, but it’s true: As soon as I sense that something isn’t clicking, I need to be able to adapt, and quickly.
This particular session was very intimate, so I was able to closely pay attention to the dynamics in the room. As the group began discussing some of the prompts in the workbook, I could suddenly tell that there were fundamental things that this team wasn’t aligned on—and they really needed to be. Without that foundation, the work we were there to do wouldn’t stick, and my carefully curated, thoroughly vetted agenda was not going to serve this team in the end.
As I listened to their discussion, I started to panic a little bit. Everyone in that room had seen the agenda and the workbook. They knew the plan. They had all agreed that it would be the best use of the time we had.
And yet, here I was, knowing in my gut that it was not going to work.
In my head, I debated with myself: Do I stay the course, stick to what we agreed on—what I’m being paid to deliver—and continue down a path that I don't think is right? Or do I go off-script, take them in a different direction, and help them get aligned on these foundational things?
The second route was risky. Because of the workbook, everyone knew exactly what the session was supposed to be, so I couldn’t pretend it was my plan all along. Even though I had a vision for how I wanted to lead them through this new conversation, going this route meant that I was leading without a map: The team would just have to trust that I knew where I was taking them.
And the thing is . . . I was confident that I could do it. This wouldn’t have been the first time that I had to be extremely adaptable and design a workshop in real time; it was just more high-stakes. What I was worried about was what I couldn’t control: Once we started down this path, I had no idea how long it would take to get this team where they needed to go—and we only had so much time together. I was afraid of leaving them feeling even less aligned than when we started. I didn’t want them to feel confused and like we didn’t accomplish what we set out to do.
Had this happened a few years ago, I never would have changed the plan. I would have been too afraid of letting them down. I would have talked myself out of it by saying that forging a new path was too uncertain, that we wouldn’t have the right materials at hand, and that we had agreed on this agenda, so I needed to stick to it.
Those things were obstacles, sure, but what really would have gotten in the way was my ego. When you work so hard on something, it’s only natural that you don't want to see your efforts go to waste. It’s the sunk-cost fallacy: You want to see something through because of how much you’ve already invested in it, even if you can’t guarantee you’ll end up where you wanted to be.
This time, though, I focused on the fact that I was there to lead and serve. That’s what they had hired me to do, and the agenda I’d prepared was not going to cut it.
As the leaders wrapped up their initial discussion, I announced a quick break and headed to the closest bathroom. I stood at the sink, trying to gather my thoughts, and I remember thinking, “If I don’t change the agenda, will I regret it? Will I always wonder what could have happened if we had gone off-script?” And I realized I would. I would always wonder where I could have taken this team, where we could have gone together if I had had the courage.
Instead of forging ahead with my new plan as soon as we got back from our break, I decided to share my dilemma with the team and see what they thought. I knew that for the session to be a success, it was important to get their buy-in and commitment for the new direction. I wanted them to feel ownership in making the decision to pivot, too.
I gave them two options: Either we could continue with the original agenda, or we could ignore it and have conversations about the foundational things they didn’t appear to be aligned on instead. I told them that the second route came with an upside and a downside: The upside was that if we really nailed these conversations, it would ensure that their work would actually last. The downside was that things could get really messy before they got clear, and, of course, we would have no workbook or agenda to guide us.
I hardly got the choices out before every single person agreed to the second direction.
So, that’s what we did. We set aside the agenda and all of our previous plans, and we went forward into the unknown together.
And you know what’s so incredible? By the end of our time together, this team had so much clarity, was completely in alignment, and had built such a strong foundation of trust with each other that I have no doubt that we made the right choice.
At the end, we did a reflection, and each person shared what they thought about our time together. The consensus was that it was the best session they had ever attended. What they appreciated the most was how adaptable I was in leading them, how I was able to see what wasn’t working in the moment and where they needed to go, and that I was in the messiness with them.
And as it turns out, that session was such a success that this team was able to take the work that they did with me and ignite it within their teams. Together, we achieved even more than we had set out to accomplish in our original agenda. And what’s even cooler is that the work we did will be part of their leadership legacy: It will live on long after they’ve left this company.
I wanted to share this story because this experience taught me such a valuable lesson as both a leader and facilitator: Sometimes, the best answer is to change the plan. Sometimes, you just have to trust your instincts, let go of your ego and your attachment to your work, and remember that your ultimate goal is to serve.
That session turned out to be one of the most meaningful sessions of my career. And as I go forward, I want to keep its lessons front-and-center. I will use it to remind myself that no matter how hard I’ve worked to prepare for a session, I need to stay so present and aware that I can tell when a plan isn’t working. I will call on this moment when I need to find the courage to say, “Actually, let's not go there. I think there’s a better way.”
As leaders, self-trust is crucial. Learning to listen to your instincts and let go of your ego will help you get there. If you’re not sure what your instincts are telling you, try asking yourself: Will I regret not taking this step? Will I always wonder what could have happened, how much better I could have served people? If the answer is yes, that's probably a sign that it's time to take a different route.
So, now, I want to ask you: Have you ever had an experience like this? One where you knew in your gut that you should change direction, but your ego pushed back? If so, what happened? Would you do anything differently if you could go back? My team and I would love to hear from you!
Leadership takes courage—and so does putting aside your ego. You’ve got this, friends!
Big hugs,
