Ripe

His voice laced with melancholy, he wonders out loud how long it will be before he lands in the 7 box.  We’re talking in the vernacular our company uses to review talent. The tool is called the 9-cell, a simple matrix with an X-axis indicating potential and a y-axis for performance.  The further an individual is placed to the right in the matrix, the more potential she’s perceived to have, the further up, the stronger the performance.  The 7 box sits in the top left corner.  It’s the place where you’re performing at your highest level and have experienced all the growth you're capable of in the organization.  Others view you as a positive contributor, successful in your area of strength, happy to remain exactly where you are.

 

So why does the 7 box feel like the end?

As he’s sharing his thoughts on this year’s evaluations, my mind wanders to how I would feel about landing in the 7 box. The coveted boxes are 8 and 9:  Eight, just to the right of 7, where you’re considered a top performer, ready to make the next move soon or the 9 box in the top right corner, where you’re firing on all cylinders, about to be shot from a cannon into the stars.

 

It’s the lack of potential the 7 box screams to the universe that has us feeling uneasy.  And the tone that voice in our head uses, telling us we are somehow less because of it. It’s not surprising these thoughts might bring us down, especially where earnings increases can be substantial for those who move onward and upward, and status is determined by title.  Many executives, furiously climbing the ladder for years, can’t imagine themselves being stopped.  There’s a real sense of a loss of control.  You’ve done all you can and now it feels like it’s only a matter of time before the powers that be are poised to put you out to pasture.

 

I’ve heard it said that adults in their 50’s are considered to be at the happiest age; researchers attribute this to the belief that accomplishments align with expectations at this point in life. We have amassed a substantial body of work and we’re able to stand back and study it objectively. We decide we can stop killing it; we no longer have something to prove.  We take the pressure off; happiness comes when we’re at peace, content right where we are. Maybe those goals we had for our younger selves don’t reflect our true selves.

 

Could it be the 7 box is an indication we want more out of life, that our true calling is on the tip of our tongues, ready to manifest itself if we can bear to listen?  We’ve spent our careers fitting into the organizations we’ve worked in.  Now we’re discovering who we are, and our potential lies in interests and opportunities to employ our talents that don’t even exist in this place, this industry, this field we’ve called our own for so long. What if the 7 box means this organization we’re part of doesn’t fit us?

I’m willing to bet this is why the 7 box makes us so uncomfortable.  If we don’t do this, this thing we’ve been honing and perfecting all these years, what will we do?  We’ll need to take the riskiest step of our lives, potentially, and move in a completely different direction to realize our potential.

 

So I would argue sitting in the 7 box doesn’t mean we’ve exhausted our potential.  It means we’ve developed all we can here; we’ve outgrown this place. We can stay, work reasonable hours, creating a balance that allows us time to satisfy our interests in the outside world or we can move on to a new full-time job making real a pursuit we’ve only dreamed about.

To me, potential is about curiosity, in our jobs, in our relationships, in living.  If we’re always curious, and keen to stretch ourselves in order to satisfy that curiosity, we are boundless. The 7 box isn’t the end, it’s just the beginning.