Growing up, my parents had two mantras that were repeated so often they’ve become part of my internal operating system:
“It’s not all about you.” And: “Deal with it.”
Neither came wrapped in particularly soft packaging. Any attention-seeking behaviour was nipped firmly in the bud. I had TWO birthday parties cancelled at the last minute because I refused to fall into line. At the time, it felt monumentally unfair. Looking back, it was an early lesson that the world does not revolve around my wants, my feelings, or my preferred outcome.
I think I may have mentioned before that the words DEAL WITH IT are printed in big, bold letters, laminated, and displayed prominently on board. There are other values up there too: kindness, assuming positive intent. But the most prominent sign says deal with it. Not because we don’t value kindness, but because there is very little about this race that is comfortable. You’re tired. Wet. Cold. Hot. Frustrated. Seasick. Sleep deprived. Things break. People make mistakes. You don’t always get your preferred, watch, meal, weather window, or outcome. The race doesn’t care.
So much of succeeding out here comes down to accepting reality as it is rather than wishing it were different. It’s on this race that I’ve realised just how useful those lessons have been. Living and working in an environment like this shines a spotlight on how people relate to themselves and others. One of the quickest ways harmony dissolves on board is when someone cannot look beyond themselves. Every situation is viewed through the lens of personal comfort, personal preference, personal validation. Decisions become less about what’s best for the team and more about what feels best for the individual. The problem is that intensive environments don’t accommodate that mindset for long. Teams only function when people are willing to put collective success ahead of personal comfort. Occasionally, people come to realise they can’t or don’t want to continue in that environment and choose to step away. That is sometimes the right decision.
What I’ve learned is that genuine teamwork requires a constant effort to move beyond yourself. It shows up in how we listen. Not listening so we can respond. Not listening so we can explain why our perspective is better. Listening to understand. Being curious enough to explore someone else’s viewpoint before defending our own. It shows up in decision-making too. You might have a course of action that you’re convinced is the right one. You make your case. The discussion happens. Then the team decides differently. What happens next matters. Do you quietly withdraw your enthusiasm? Do you subtly undermine the decision because it wasn’t yours? Do you stand back waiting for it to fail so you can prove you were right? Or do you commit fully to the direction the team has chosen? Because if you’ve genuinely agreed to work as a team, that’s the job. Not reluctant compliance. Full commitment.
Because It’s not all about you. It even shows up in conversation. We’ve all met people who interrupt, redirect, or somehow manage to steer every discussion back to themselves. Most of us have probably done it ourselves at times. Resisting that impulse requires self-awareness. It requires noticing the urge to be the centre of attention and choosing differently. That requires enough self-awareness and discipline to place the needs of the team above the needs of your ego. As we rapidly close in on our home port, I’ve found myself reflecting on just how much my crew have embodied those lessons over the course of this race. In particular our four Round the World crew members. Over the last ten months they’ve dealt with an extraordinary amount. The highs that everyone sees, but also the setbacks, frustrations, discomforts, disappointments and relentless challenges that inevitably come with a circumnavigation.
They’ve repeatedly looked beyond themselves and asked what the boat needed, what the team needed, and how they could contribute. They’ve brought their best selves to the boat, even on days when that undoubtedly took a Herculean effort.
Most importantly, they’ve understood one of the fundamental truths of successful teams: it’s not all about them.
For that, and for everything they have given to this campaign, I am enormously grateful. As it turns out, my parents were right. It’s not all about you. And sometimes, you simply have to deal with it.
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