[Issue #046] When It All Feels Stacked Against You: Moscow Rules, This Bitter Earth and a Bit of Hope
Have you ever heard of Moscow Rules? Kathryn and I love spy flicks and we heard that one last night.
Imagine this scenario: A British MI5 department is losing agents left and right. They’re turning up dead, but their deaths have been staged to look like accidents and it takes a while for anyone to figure it out.
Five episodes into our drama, an entire group of agents are hiding from the Russian assassins and at risk of being wiped out. Lamb, the crusty old agent in charge, tells his only agent left in the field, River, to go and save them.
Just before he hangs up, Lamb says, “...and River, Moscow rules.”
Now, Lamb is always pretending he doesn’t care about anyone. But in this split second, he drops the facade. His words are a command, but his tone screams, “you’re important and I care.”
If you’re like me, you just said out loud, “what are Moscow rules?!”
During the Cold War, the CIA developed a set of unwritten rules for spies operating under the nose of the KGB. Moscow Rules.
For our purposes, they boil down to these three points.
Watch your back
Assume Nothing and Trust No one
Mistakes have immediate consequences. No time for political spin
It may sound kind of brutal but let me tell you - when life is throwing you nothing but strikes and you can’t seem to hit anything, it feels like someone is out to get you.
Lately we have had a rash of technology problems at work stacked one right after the other.
A large wire transfer coming from a long-time client got “lost in the banking world” for over three weeks.
Our marketing software funnel, that was working great, suddenly loses a bunch of leads
And the “coup de grâce,” the final blow: yesterday, Kathryn’s Venmo got hacked!
Every one of those stole time and money from us! Every time one of these problems happens, you have to drop everything and take care of it, which robs you of the time to work on the more important but not urgent tasks.
No, I don’t think Russian assassins are attacking our marketing funnel. But when the problems keep coming, it can start to feel like you're under attack.
Suddenly, “Moscow Rules” starts to sound a bit less dramatic.
This Bitter Earth
This morning, Kathryn and I were listening to a jazz playlist on Spotify when a song came on that I had never heard before.
Imagine the iconic sound of 1950s jazz. A rich, soulful voice opens a song with three words, “This Bitter Earth.” Then the words just hang there in the air.
The singer was Dinah Washington, one of the great voices of that era. Neither of us was expecting that opening and it stopped our conversation cold.
Clyde Otis, who was born into poverty in Mississippi in 1924, wrote that song. By the 1950s he had become a successful songwriter and producer. When Washington recorded it, his words and her voice came together to create a hit that reached the top of the Billboard R&B chart.
Otis penned the words and crafted the notes. Washington gave it a voice and apparently a whole lot of people heard something they recognized.
Decades later, we did too.
The night before, “Moscow Rules” had captured that feeling of needing to be on alert. Now here was a song giving voice to how tired we were of having to stay on alert.
Both within twelve hours. As if God was giving us a glimpse into his humor and our humanity.
After thousands of hours spent with leaders sharing the thoughts and frustrations and joys of leadership, I’ve never met a leader who doesn’t get bummed out from time to time. Who doesn’t want to take a moment and just revel in the pain like Job in the Bible and say, “Why me?”
Listen to these words from Otis and Washington (oh, how I wish I could play them for you in my living room late at night with your choice of evening beverage.)
This bitter earth
Well, what a fruit it bears
What good is love
that no one shares
And if my life is like the dust
that hides the glow of a rose
But what good am I
Heaven only knows
Lord, this bitter earth
Yes, can be so cold
Today you're young
Too soon, you're old
Just read those lyrics. Hopefully you can even hear them in your mind. They’re dark and gritty. Looking at what pain and frustration can come into our lives.
Whether you’re a leader or not, we all feel this kind of pain. But with leadership we choose to bear the pain because it’s part of the job.
And one of the beauties of this type of jazz music is that it puts our pain to lyric and tune, in a way that is deeply cathartic to the soul.
Richard Rohr said in his book, “Breathing Under Water” 2011, “You cannot heal what you do not first acknowledge”
Washington did just that in her smooth and stylistic way. (listen here: This Bitter Earth)
Too many people won’t acknowledge, and this is where they get stuck with their pain and growing cynicism.
But as leaders, we can’t afford to stay there.
Breathing Back in Hope
The good news is that these seasons of frustration and seemingly endless strikeouts eventually come to an end. You step up to bat, hit the ball and make it on base. The moment at last when the streak is over.
But while you're still waiting for that hit, it can feel miserable. We may even pause to kick and scream on the inside and shake our fist in the air. Leaders can admit that to other leaders far more easily than we can share it with those we lead.
But there was more to the song.
The closing of This Bitter Earth was a turn that I did not expect:
But while a voice within me cries
I'm sure someone may answer my call
And this bitter earth
may not be so bitter after all
I know that some seasons are awful and we hold our breath waiting for the next shoe to drop. Which is why I encourage you to find the safe ones around you to breathe out the frustrations and share them with someone you trust.
Naming the pain matters. So does giving ourselves time to process it. The trick is recognizing when it's time to take a deep breath in and get back to the game.
You’ve earned the right to be here and it’s gonna be ok.
Image inspired by Dinah Washington's 1961 Mercury Records Unforgettable album cover jacket. Original designer unknown.
