Grief, life, and engineering.

A tale of a challenging week.

There are moments or days in one’s life that are particularly emotionally charged and challenging, in either a positive or negative way; sometimes even both. You are certain that you will always strongly remember that day. Last Wednesday was one of those days for me.

Two very sad things happened. The first happened early in the morning when we had to put our dog Hazel, our companion for the past 11 years, into a final sleep.

Hazel in her element

Everyone thinks their pet is the best and in a way, despite seeming like a contradiction, I think this is true. A pet, especially a dog, is a companion, a friend, and a huge part of family life. Your bond with your pet is unique. Hazel leaves a huge hole in my life; I’ll miss her presence deeply. Whether it’s on our runs in the port hills, or being there waiting in the garage for me to get home, or lying asleep on our bed (as innocent as can be). It’s 100 little things that will never be replaced and the grief will linger for a long time. RIP Hazel.

The second thing that happened on the same day is that one of my direct reports, a friend, unexpectedly handed in her resignation. This is a person who I’ve grown with as a leader during my professional career. Someone who I’ve turned to for advice, who I’ve unreservedly trusted, and with whom I’ve shared challenges, good and bad. More than all that, she is someone I’ve grown to deeply admire.

So for her to resign unexpectedly was somewhat of a dagger to my heart and a massive shock. In the past week, I’ve ridden a massive rollercoaster of emotion. I’ve been angry, I’ve been feeling hopeless, I’ve questioned my leadership, I’ve questioned the universe, life and even the purpose of what the heck I’m doing.

More than all that though is an overwhelming feeling of deep sadness. Deep sadness at the loss of a friend and a close professional relationship. Deep sadness for missing the things that might have been and the things I’d sometimes taken for granted.

Engineers are sometimes criticised for lacking empathy and being robotic. Indeed I know many examples of engineers who are like this. I’ve been like this at times in my career also. However, it’s something I’ve chosen to work on and try to improve. To engineer without emotion, is to not engineer at all. Engineering is a human activity; we are solving society’s problems in the aim of making life better for everyone. In the more recent years of my career, I’ve come to understand the value of emotion and empathy in helping these activities.

Which brings me to one of my favourite quotes:

“Train people well enough so they can leave. Treat them well enough so they don’t have to.” – Sir Richard Branson

On reflection, I feel that with regard to the employee that has chosen to leave, we have done most of what we could to meet both halves of this equation. Sure, there are always things you could have done differently, or changes you could have made. Sometimes, however, you just have to recognise that people leave because they see an opportunity elsewhere that might supercharge their development. It’s not a reflection on you as a leader, or the things that you are doing as a company.

Of course, every cloud has a silver lining. I’m choosing to lean in to the grief because I believe that is the best way to process it and come out the other side faster and better. Life is a journey and grief is an important part of that journey. Would I want a life with no grief? That would be terrible in my opinion. We can’t have the highs without the lows. This is one of the central ideas of Huxley’s Brave New World. A utopia where everyone is drugged into a kind of permanent happiness or joy, is no utopia at all.

There is now an opportunity for someone new to take on a leadership position and bring positive change to our business. I’m looking forward to that new chapter.