It’s Monday morning.
Something is urgent.
Everyone wants an answer.
And the pressure to do something is arriving considerably faster than the information needed to decide what.
Sound familiar?
I work in urgent maintenance. Which means a significant part of my day involves things that have gone wrong, people who need answers, and problems that generally can’t wait until everyone has finished their coffee.
Sometimes the urgency is a genuine safety issue. Sometimes it’s a deadline. And occasionally, something is urgent because the person asking is several levels above you on the organisational chart.
Different kinds of urgency. Remarkably similar feelings when they land in your inbox.
First, I need a moment#
Recently, I received information about a recurring maintenance issue that needed immediate attention at 4:30 on a Friday afternoon.
My first reaction was not particularly profound.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Which is fair enough. I’m human.
Unfortunately, being annoyed hasn’t yet solved an emergency for me.
So I took a breath.
Not a particularly long breath. Nobody had time for a wellness retreat. There was an actual problem that needed dealing with.
But I needed that moment to accept that this was happening, whether I liked it or not, and work out what needed to happen first.
The specialist needed the information so they could respond. My managers needed to know what was happening. The client needed an update. The paperwork needed completing. And because the issue had happened before, the underlying cause still needed investigating.
All important.
But not all first.
A bit of triage in the brain#
That’s what the breath gives me.
A little bit of triage in the brain.
In this case, the first priority was getting the information directly to the person who could act on it.
The paperwork could follow, within the necessary requirements. My managers could be updated on what had already been actioned. The client could be given an accurate picture of what was happening and what would happen next.
And the underlying problem could be investigated alongside the response.
Because sometimes dealing with an emergency and understanding why it happened are two different jobs.
The immediate issue needs attention, but if you never get around to understanding the cause, there’s a good chance you’ll be dealing with it again.
And again.
Ask me how I know. 😂
Urgency doesn’t make everything equally immediate#
When something urgent happens, it’s easy to feel as though everything needs to happen at once.
But some actions prevent further harm, some get the right people moving, and others provide information or accountability.
They all matter. The trick is working out what comes first.
I don’t take a breath because emergencies don’t affect me#
I take a breath because they do.
I’m not immune to pressure, frustration, or the occasional desire to put my head on my desk.
When several things need attention at once, my brain can get rather noisy.
And if I let that noise dictate my next action, I’m much more likely to lose track of what I’m trying to achieve.
So I give myself a moment.
Sometimes I’m following a familiar sequence. Sometimes I’m building a new one.
What’s happening? What’s the immediate risk? Who needs to know? What can wait?
It doesn’t guarantee I’ll get everything right.
I’ve made mistakes. I’ll make more.
And when the moment is right, I try to ask for feedback. Was there something I missed? Could I have communicated better? Is there a step I should add for next time?
Because there will absolutely be a next time.
Preferably not at 4:30 on a Friday afternoon, but apparently emergencies don’t consult my calendar.
First things first#
Sometimes you have to act immediately with incomplete information. That’s the nature of urgent work.
But taking a breath doesn’t mean ignoring the urgency. For me, it’s how I find a way through it.
I can’t always make an urgent situation less urgent. But a little bit of triage in the brain helps me work out what comes next.
Originally published on LinkedIn.