In a coaching session this past week, I used a tactic that sometimes gets good results.

[Sometimes. Whether it did this time remains to be seen.]

My client is a very smart, very talented, very successful guy who is in a leadership role in an industry that’s failing, in a company that’s panicked. From the day he started the job almost two years ago, he knew something was wrong. Something was off. And now he’s seeing all the bad stuff come to fruition. He’s exhausted, burned out and stressed. Yet he’s spending 80 hours a week stacking the deck chairs on what feels like a sinking ship, and there’s never enough time to do everything that could be done.

“But,” he asks me.

“But, at his level can you leave a job after less than two years in the role?”

“But, I”m a smart guy – isn’t it my obligation to make it work?”

“But, shouldn’t I have another job in hand before I leave?

“But, they’re paying me – don’t I owe them?”

I call this The Motorboat moment: But, but, but, but.

Which is no pleasure trip. It’s more like bumping through heavy chop in high winds. It’s no fun, and a little nauseating.

So I whipped out my best coaching stuff – I put on my figurative trench coat, dark glasses and beret – and I became The Coach Provocateur.

For every “but” he said, I said, “Go ahead, quit.”

For every reason he offered for staying, I offered a vision for what’s next.

For every “no”, I said “yes”.

Because time after time I have seen that when I offer a rather outlandish suggestion – “Quit today and move to Tahiti” – it allows the client to say, “Well, not Tahiti, but maybe Atlanta.”

And there you have it – Atlanta. A workable goal. A clear objective.  Something that feels pretty good.

But you only get there by considering the extreme potential.

My client’s homework is to consider what it would be like to leave in three months. What it would be like to take some time to recoup and renew – his soul, his body, his psyche. And he may come back with another solution than the one I offered. And that is perfectly OK – as long as it’s a solution he can use.

As long as it expands his comfort zone and gives him the relief he craves.

So, no doubt you have something you’d like to address.  To fix. To do better.

OK, what’s the most extreme, Lady Gaga-esque approach you can think of? Dream it up. Biggify it.

Then say, “If not that, then what?”

You may find that by considering that provocative edge, you’ll find your perfect solution.

If you hang around a golf course or a golfer, you’re bound to hear the phrase:

“Drive for show, putt for dough.”

The drive – the big swing a the start of the hole – takes a lot of muscle.Your core is engaged, your legs need to work, your arms and shoulders rotate fully. It’s a really big movement. Watch this video of golf great Ben Hogan discussing the basics of a swing.

It’s big. It’s muscular. It’s showy.

A lot of people spend a ton of time practicing their drive. Hey, there might be people watching that shot. There might be a chance the audience will applaud, or at least say, “wow” under their breath at that magnificent, powerful, arcing ball flight.

Ah, the prospect of adulation. Extremely compelling for so many of us.

Yet, a big, muscular, showy drive has very little to do with a great golf score.

Because the real place to score is on the green, when you putt.

In a typical par four hole, the idea is that you hit a good drive, make a decent approach shot, and then you have two putts on the green to get in the hole.  If you’re a good putter, you might sink it in one stroke, giving you a birdie – which is a great score. A series of birdies and you win the tournament, or at least a couple of bucks from your buddies.

That’s the reason people say, “Drive for show, putt for dough.”

A putt is the opposite of a drive. Rather than big movements, a great putt is minimal movement, controlled, small. Repeatable.  Watch Tiger Woods putt and you’ll see what I mean.

So, it’s big and showy vs. smaller and purposeful.

And now you know why I’m writing this blog, even if you don’t play golf.

The big, showy effort is so fulfilling, yet it’s often the small, focused, repetitive stuff that pays off.

You know this.

So, if you’re burned out, you may want to do the big swing by quitting in a huff, but you might just want to putt it. Do some small, repetitive steps – like leaving on time. Like tending to your self care. Like having a life outside the office. Like saying no sometimes. Like making time to connect with people who can help you find a new job.

If you’re stuck, putt it.  Test and try in tiny chunks, and see what feels better than whatever you’ve got right now.

If you want to grow, putt it.  Read a book. Take a class. Get a mentor.

Practice, practice, practice.

Think small.

Because if you really want to win the dough, you become a great putter.

So you’ve made the plan.

And you feel really good about it.

You’ve finally accepted that something needs to change, and you’re ready to do it – because you know that’s the only way you’re going to get yourself what you want.

A new job.

A promotion.

A partner.

More clients.

Getting that key certification.

You’ve got a plan and you’re ready to pull the ripcord.

But, then…

Then, life interrupts.

And someone you love gets sick.

You get sick.

You hear some very difficult news.

Whatever it is, it’s a crisis.  Totally unexpected.  And totally swamps your boat.

You drop everything, and race to help those who need you.

You, my friend, are human duct tape, holding anything and everything together.

And, depending on you and your life, this isn’t the first time you’ve raced to the rescue. You’re kind,you’re responsible, you have a good head on your shoulders, don’t you? And people count on you to do the hard things, especially when they can’t.

So you do.

I imagine this is resonating with you.

But remember your plan? Remember that thing you had committed to doing?  That thing that would give you more of what you want? That intriguing, fun, good-kind-of-challenge thing that will make you happy?

What about that?

In situations like this, many of us decide that it’s got to be one or the other. We have to decide: either I nurse my dying mother, or I start a business. Either I help my depressed child manage her illness, or I get a new job.

And sometimes we postpone – or drop – the plan that we know is good for us.

Last year, I wrote about The “And” Way - and maybe that idea can help those who feel caught between service and action.

Very few things in work and life are truly Either/Or, although it’s human nature to attempt to make them so. The And Way – where you get some of both of the things on your plate – is a “moving forward” approach, and keeps you from being thoroughly stuck.

So, yes, care for those you love in their time of need… but also stick with scheduling job interviews. Maybe you’ll have three interviews a week instead of six, but that’s OK – that’s The And Way.

Yes, deal with the crisis you face.  But also do the certification program – maybe you can start in six months, rather than next week. Or maybe you can halve the courses and complete the program in four months rather than two.

The And Way. When life interrupts your best laid plans, look closely at your situation and rather than defaulting to either/or choices, seek The And.

You know, if you cock your head to the right and look at the The And Way, you’ll see it slightly differently. When you do, you’ll see it also includes other people. As in: you and me.  Because you know that when you need help, there are plenty of people ready to come to your side.

They are also human duct tape.  If you give them the chance to be.

All you need to do is ask them, and they’ll become part of your And Way. And maybe find their own meaningful And in the process.

It’s that feeling.

Very familiar now.

Too much to do.

Too little time.

You say yes,

When you ought to say no.

But if you say no

Who will do the thing?

In your secretmost heart, though

You ask,

“If I don’t say yes, then

Who will get the credit,

The thanks,

The approval?”

That question- the one right there?

That’s the very center of your persistent stress.

Constantly seeking external validation

To tell you

That you are good

Helpful

Smart

A good girl

A good boy.

Somebody.

Or some other something kinda like that.

When the antidote to stress

Is knowing

Internally

That you are good.

That you are kind.

That you are smart.

That you can say no.

And saying no does not make you bad.

You must finally know, inside,

That you matter.

Because if you don’t matter to yourself

All the stress reduction classes in the world

Won’t help a bit.

Take the thing.

Turn it round.

This way.

Then that.

Clear your mind.

See it.

Notice.

Breathe.

Allow it to transform before your eyes.

Into Something.

Something else.

Something new.

Something magical.

That changes everything

For the good.