Rules for Miracles

I’ve always felt a little different. That isn’t me claiming I’m special. I was just cut different, and for a long time I thought that was a problem.

It took me years to see it another way. Each of us is one of one. Nobody else in the universe has your exact mix of talents, abilities, and creativity. I think that qualifies you to be a kind of miracle. And if that’s true, the real question is what it means to be one, and what responsibilities come with it.

That’s what I’ve been working through in a book built around Pinocchio. Here are the rules I’ve landed on so far.

We all pull a Pinocchio

Pinocchio is one of one in the universe, a puppet who came to life. And what he wants more than anything is to be a “real boy,” one of thousands in his village. He wants to fit in.

We all do this. We’re made unique, and what we want, especially growing up, is to fit in. That’s the tragedy.

For me it got personal again as an adult. After we sold our first company, I stayed on for a while with the company that bought us. Our company had always been a family. We never even called it work, and staff meetings were family meetings. I went from feeling like the dad of that family, the one responsible for vision and for helping everyone become their best, to being an executive in a rigid corporate structure.

There were incredible people there. But I struggled to fit in, and at one point I decided I was going to be the anti-Pinocchio. I’d stop trying to fit in and enjoy being one of one.

What actually made me unhappy

When I was about 12, my parents moved me to a small private school. The culture there was the opposite of what I’d grown up around. My style and the way I talked didn’t fit. For a long time I had one friend, someone who was nothing like me and decided to be my friend anyway.

I was never sadder than in that season. All I wanted was to fit in.

As an adult, I realized what made me unhappy wasn’t failing to fit in. It was the desire to fit in, a hope that was never going to be met. Proverbs says hope deferred makes the heart sick. My heart wasn’t sick because I didn’t fit. It was sick because I kept hoping for something that wasn’t meant to happen.

If you can learn to hope for the right things, you can avoid a lot of unnecessary sadness. That was a hard lesson to learn at 12.

Rule 1: There are no rules

The first rule for miracles is that there are no rules. It became a rallying cry in our office at our first business.

If miracles had to follow the rules, you’d never see one. Miracles by definition sit outside the rules.

So if you feel fenced in, in your career, your company, or your results, that’s a sign you need a miracle. And that means going to hunt for the miraculous, in yourself and in other people.

Rule 2: Miracles always serve someone else

When we started our first business, I felt like I’d finally been given permission to be my full-volume self. Nobody could tell me to be quiet. I was the boss.

That business fell on its face. Looking back, I was using everything that made me unique to validate myself. I wanted to prove that full-volume me was right all along.

Miracles are never self-serving. I can’t think of a single miracle that existed for itself. Today I tell my team that I exist for them. My job is to help each of them become the best version of themselves.

It’s like the old line that a rising tide lifts all boats. You can’t levitate your own boat above the water, but you can raise the water. So my job is to raise the water, and I try not to think about my own boat while I’m doing it.

Rule 3: Don’t get caught in other people’s strings

There’s a scene where Pinocchio ends up on stage in a puppet show. He’s surrounded by puppets that look exactly like him: same wood, same joints. But they’re lifeless, with someone above them pulling the strings.

That has to be the moment he realizes he isn’t who he wants to be yet, but he’s no longer who he was. I think that in-between space is where most people need a miracle.

Most people don’t need a miracle to stop being who they are. That takes willpower. Someone struggling with a habit can decide in a moment to stop. What takes a miracle is the second, third, and fourth step, and every step after that, until you become who you want to be.

And transition is when you’re most vulnerable. In the movie, Pinocchio dances with the other puppets and tries to do what they do, even though he can do things they can’t because he has no strings. He gets tangled up in their strings and ends up face-down on the stage.

When you’re different, it’s tempting to spend your extra freedom trying to be what everyone around you is. That’s the comparison game, and it will tie you up.

Rule 4: What isn’t valued gets abused

If you don’t value what makes you unique, you’ll misuse it. Usually not on purpose. It happens because you never understood what it was for.

Know what your gifts are for, and use them for that.

Practical takeaways

1. Name your “one of one.” Write down three things about how you think or work that don’t fit the mold, and how each could serve your team.
2. Check your hopes. Is there something you’ve been hoping for, like fitting in or someone’s approval, that’s making you heartsick? Decide whether it’s worth hoping for.
3. Find your fence. Where do you feel most fenced in? That’s where to start looking for a different way.
4. Raise the water. This week, pick one teammate and do something that only serves their growth.
5. Watch for strings in transition. If you’re between who you were and who you’re becoming, notice whose rhythm you’re copying.

Work with LeadFast

LeadFast Co helps leaders stop fitting in and start leading as themselves. Start at leadfastco.com.

Here’s my question for you: Whose strings are you still caught in?

This article is based on Episode 18 of the LeadFast Podcast, “Five Rules for Miracles.” Listen to the full episode.