Top Mistakes That Can Make You a Bad Partner (And How to Avoid Them)

Leaning Toward Wisdom

Let's define "partner" broadly. It could be a spouse, a business associate, a legal partnership, an informal collaboration, a co-worker, or something else. In short, it's a joint venture of some sort. You get to define it the way that best suits you. My first partnerships were likely being a sibling to my sister who is 6 years older. We may have been too far apart in age to be a real partnership, but aren't all kids with brothers and sisters partners in some sense? I watch my grandkids and it seems not much has changed. As children, we had to learn to get along, work together, protect, and support each other. Okay, maybe there were some fights along the way, too. Once I got into school I'd often be teamed up with other students for projects. Mostly, I remember doing bulletin boards or something creative. The teacher would assign one or more people to me to produce something. It was my first real experience with frustration in a creative endeavor. I've thought about it often - how early on I should have known I needed to be more discriminating in the ideal partner. Or to consider whether or not I even need or want one. Through the years one phrase has captured my biggest challenge: being like-minded. That doesn't mean seeing everything identically. Nor does it mean coming to the same conclusion. I've wrestled with this notion all my life, attempting to distill the meaning of "being like-minded." Maybe there's a better way to figure it out, but my approach was to identify the source of my frustrations. What is driving me crazy and why? It always comes down to, "Is it me, or is it them?" That leads to wrestling with whether or not it's going to require compromise to lower quality. To lower the expectation. To accept good enough. To avoid reaching for something better. By the time I reached junior high, I knew I was cursed. There would never be a way out. So I started looking for some way forward. It didn't often happen so I learned to pursue things by myself if the thing was important to me. Think school projects. I had close friends. I had many more friendly acquaintances. I enjoyed being amongst friends. Humor and sarcasm were constant common denominators. But when it came to getting things accomplished, I was sober-minded. Serious. Maybe to a fault. A few people who didn't know me misinterrupted my introversion and seriousness for conceit. But that was never the issue because I never esteemed myself better than anybody else, albeit I did frequently think, "I wouldn't do that" when watching somebody make a foolish choice. I was compliant listening to teachers and parents. Mostly doing what I was told, behaving and always mindful of the situation. I was a noticer which made it easier to avoid problems, easier to read people, but impossible to avoid noticing. As a result, my inner signal-to-noise ratio has never been great. When you notice everything you learn to discriminate between the two, but it's important to distinguish between what you think you're noticing and true evidence. As a young adult, I began to seriously learn what I termed evidence-based intuition. Gut feel is terrific when you notice everything, but it's not error-free, even if it is mostly accurate. Pile on some questions that force you to consider what you know to be true, and the accuracy gets closer to perfect. I've now practiced that for over 40 years and I'm still working on it. The context matters lest you think I'm just a wild contrarian. I'm not. But I'm driven by accomplishment, not ambition. They can look similar, but the difference is selfishness. Credit. Glory. Honor. I don't much care about any of those. I care about the final product. I care about the conquest. Today, I often use the metaphor of "taking the hill." I'm driven to take the hill in the best method possible. The challenge, struggle and adversity provide the juice. Otherwise, everybody would be taking the hill. But not everybody does. And that excites me.