INHERITED MOMENTUM
My wife and I have been kicking around a concept for a while.
Inherited momentum.
It goes something like this:
A person steps into a favorable situation. Could be a healthy business, a strong family, a thriving church, a successful team, or a well-built organization…
The machine is already moving.
The momentum was there before they arrived.
The wins keep coming. The rewards pile up. The results look impressive.
But instead of recognizing the momentum they’ve inherited, they begin attributing the success primarily to themselves.
The movement was already underway.
The train was already rolling downhill.
The soil had already been cultivated.
And yet success has a way of convincing us that we caused more of it than we actually did.
Once you start noticing this, it’s hard to un-notice.
Which makes me pause.
How much inherited momentum exists in my own life?
How many of my victories are really someone else’s muscle?
How many opportunities were created by another person’s sacrifice?
How many doors were opened by someone else’s discipline?
How many times have I been congratulated for something that was actually the cumulative result of another set of brains, another set of hands, or another person’s years of faithful work?
I guess what I’m saying is that a little humility would do us all some good.
A pause before the victory lap, or a moment of introspection.
Who helped build the thing I’m standing on?
Who carried the load before I arrived?
What is upstream of the good things happening in my life?
I suspect there’s almost always an answer.
And acknowledging it may preserve not only our humanity, but our vision.
Because momentum has a way of disguising reality.
Winning can make us less observant.
Success can make us careless.
And when the momentum eventually slows…and all momentum eventually does…people who understand where the success came from have a chance to adapt.
People who believed they were the source are often blindsided.