Preston Gillham

Leadership is a delicate balance between building consensus and taking charge.

This week is not my own. I am sharing the kitchen, our bedroom, the bath, my study, and every other square inch of my world with my niece and nephew—ten and seven respectively. Since we are not their parents, Dianne and I are free to negotiate a few of the decisions, e.g. where to eat lunch, what’s for dinner, and which movie we watch over pizza.

Finalizing the pizza order ranks as one of my more difficult decision-making challenges. One person wants olives, one pepperoni. One wants extra cheese. One wants hamburger, one mushrooms, another peppers. No one wants it all at once, except Dianne. Since my job is to lead (and buy), it is also my job to build consensus so that when the pizza arrives we are ready to enjoy the movie.

On the other hand, just before entering the guitar center to purchase a microphone for my podcast, I took charge. I instructed on what we were about to see and do, what we could touch and not fiddle with, etc. and I did so with clarity that indicated there was no intent on my part to negotiate or seek consensus.

Leaders lead. Building consensus is about establishing mutual respect, valuing talent, and recognizing the ingenuity of other people in order to craft a course of action. Taking charge is about efficiency, safety, and security. Leadership is not either/or; it is both/and. Therein is the primary challenge.

We all want to be led whether we are children visiting our aunt and uncle, employees working for “the man,” or board members serving to achieve the greater good. Leaders know this, choose the correct style for the situation, and lead.

I’m not usually one to split hairs on film genres, but there are chick flicks and then there are chick flicks. If the only thing a movie has in it is romance, then it is a chick flick, pure and simple. But my world has expanded. My 10-year-old niece introduced me to a new concept: 10-year-old chick flicks.

Not only is our niece 10 years old, but the actors in “Little Manhattan” are 10-years old as well. I was prepared to slog through a poor movie, but there was a good fight scene, and the story was fun. But what was especially nice was our niece being with us, sitting between Dianne and me, building memories.

Reminiscing is one of the universal activities that bonds families. Most of the fun conversations, heartiest laughs, and greatest points of connection occur with a recounting of memories at reunions, around the dinner table, or sitting together after a family event.

One of these days, eating pizza and watching “Little Manhattan” will be one of the reminiscences that our niece and Dianne and I share. It will be part of the fabric that weaves our hearts and souls together and makes meaningful conversation likely. The 10-year-old chick flick is part of setting the stage for the coming years. As the future unfolds, our bond will tighten because we have built memories together.

And what is the secret ingredient? A quantity of time together. Nothing fancy, just a solid investment of time in each other.

As I find my bearings working from home, I am realizing that maintaining my priorities is proving more difficult than I anticipated. Just as I have been for the last 30 years, I am still my own boss. However, going to the office each day helped me define my work life and the rest of my life.

These days it is too easy to return to my writing desk after dinner, again after my evening walk, and again before going to bed. It used to be that I would sit by the fire in the winter. It used to be that I would sit on the patio in the summer. It used to be that I would sit in my chair and read a book for pleasure. I have discovered that since I began working from home these priorities have suffered.

Working from home requires discipline. Of course, there is the discipline to begin, but there is also the discipline to stop. For me, the latter is more difficult.

Knowing that the office work day ended at five o’clock provided the accountability I needed to tend to my priorities. As simple as it sounds, I am finding that the antidote to my priority dilemma is to set a well defined quitting time. For me, quitting time is signaled by the dinner hour. Once it is time to cook dinner, it is also time to shut down my work life and returned to real life.

The risks for failing to manage my priorities are profound. All of the things I used to do included my wife, but there is only one chair in my home study.

How are you managing your priorities?

On the first day of September 2008 I began working from home. Not all at once, but gradually. I co-founded and then served as President and Chairman of a nonprofit for almost thirty years. Hanging up my spurs was quite a change.

After a few days of fly fishing to clear the cobwebs I began settling into the rhythm of a home-based schedule. It’s been good—kind of strange—but it’s OK now.

My timing is different. During those years running my own gig I knew where I was supposed to be at 8:00 AM: in my chair, the mission of the organization in my crosshairs, leading my team in pursuit of our corporate adventure. Great stuff. Now, I’m free to start whenever.

Since I am my own boss—the donors and Board used to be—I work to the beat of my own metronome. No more starting my morning workout (I ride a bicycle) at 5:05 AM in pitch blackness. That’s good. These days I ride mid-morning after I’m brain dead from writing for five hours. Then, I clean up and pick up where I left off. I work until it’s time to fix dinner, just like in the old days.

The schedule does for me today what the 8-5 workday, the Board, and the donors used to do. The alarm goes off at the same time it did prior to September 2008. I employ the same tools in my study that I did in my office. I set goals and tweak my business plan just like I used to do back in the day—sans the team meeting in the Conference Room.

How you work from home? We’d love to hear your tips.