In this post:
I think about “aim” in the sense of direction and effort as we apply ourselves.
Earlier this month, I spent some time between getting home from work and deciding what to do with my evening by briefly watching an acquaintance stream some gameplay of World of Warcraft.
She is definitively a casual player, perfectly content fishing up foodstuff, gathering potion ingredients, and otherwise applying herself to relatively relaxed activities.
This provided what was essentially background video and audio while the participants in the group chat talked about whatever, but I couldn’t help but notice that the way she navigated was horribly inefficient.
Players have three basic ways to move around in the game: Walking, Riding, and Flying. Walking and Riding are both limited to travel upon the ground, and Riding is basically 100% faster than walking at max level. Players can move forward, back, left, or right, but can only rotate left or right on the ground. Flying adds even more speed, up to 280% faster than Walking, and also adds the ability to move up and down and rotate forward or back. Swimming is basically just slower-than-Walking Flying limited to water, but is not important to the discussion.
In words, this is probably not the most straightforward explanation even if it is likely sufficient.
Anyway, back to this casual player:
As I was watching, she would cycle between flying around and gathering herbs. I was horrified to observe her character mount up, begin to fly, and rather than simply rotate back slightly to fly in a smooth path, her character aimed below the horizon and repeatedly moved up to compensate.
I recommended that instead of constantly having to regain altitude, she could just aim slightly higher to keep her character’s flight in a straight line.
Curiously, she rejected this recommendation, but that’s not why I wanted to write this post.
I wrote this post because of my original drawing after I first observed her flight pathing.
This drawing’s critical features are the horizon – represented as a curved line – and two aimpoints.
In context, this drawing quickly encapsulates my recommendation to the aforementioned player. By aiming higher – slightly above the horizon – she could make her flight path smoother. But, because she consistently aimed low, she was actually required to exert more effort to obtain a similar result.
That point is the spark for this post.
I outlined this post with three contexts for aiming in a professional sense:
- From a Standstill
- With Momentum
- In Adversity
From a Standstill
The situation:
No force has been applied yet; you are on the ground, but not where you want to be. You know where you think you want to go, but you don’t know the best way to get there.
Getting where you want to go is not exactly as simple as pointing yourself directly there; you need to get some altitude and adjust, potentially routing around terrain, known weather, or traffic. The more you know before you launch, the better.
I think a great example of this is when you are finishing high school or college. Many students have considered their future beyond graduation, but many have no idea what they want to do and feel stuck.
Even if they end up changing their minds, it can help to select something of a tentative goal – aim somewhere – and make an actionable plan that can get them on a first step.
A better example of this is being (or thinking about) a new employee. Likely shared questions among any new employees in any context is “So how do I fit in here?” or “So what’s my job?” These questions seek aimpoints.
It’s also important to keep in mind that failing to discover your own aimpoints – or failing to provide them when that is appropriate for your role – can make a significant difference in the quality of your experience. If you don’t know how to fit in and no one will guide you (or you fail to be a guide), then you are drastically underutilizing your potential.
Before you take off, make a plan. In your plan, include your goals, available resources, important times, critical partners, and associated risks.
With Momentum
The situation:
You’re already moving. You already know where you are trying to go, and unless something changes, you will successfully arrive at your intended destination. It’s in your best interest to focus on minimizing deviations to your flight path.
There are multiple reasons that horses get blinders placed on them. The two most obvious ones are to keep them focused forward and to avoid distracting or frightening things. Even with those blinders, horses are still able to receive inputs.
Similarly, when you’re already on the move toward a goal, it’s important that your aim not be frivolously adjusted and that you do not become discouraged by seemingly concerning but realistically non-threatening environmental features.
Imagine taking what should be a no-fuss, two-hour flight somewhere and your pilot decided to double the trip duration via deviations, first because he heard an interesting conversation over the radio and wanted to follow the transmitter, then again because he saw inclement weather that was not even on your course of travel.
Unless a deadly storm lies ahead, your pilot ought to focus on safely and successfully navigating between your departure and arrival gates.
Stick to your plan unless your plan no longer makes sense.
In Adversity
So far, discussing aim has been in a relatively uncontested context.
What if your flight path has unexpected terrain, weather, or outright firepower? We’re talking severely unfamiliar territory, resource shocks, and limitations due to competition.
Adversity can strike whether you’re on the ground or already in the air: suppressing fire or area denial for combat pilots, disrupted logistical operations for pretty much everyone, power outages, illness, accidents, double-booked calendars, lack of training resources, lack of conference spaces or classrooms, limited positions for promotions, stunted hiring, priority/ emergency pop-ups…
Naturally, the urgency to take action varies depending on your circumstances, but I have two thoughts.
First, I recommend keeping your ultimate goals in mind. Outside of systemic issues, most adversity is short-term (even if it may be of high frequency) – even if your goals feel short-term, take a moment and consider that they might support a greater, long-term goal.
Unless the adversity of the day annihilates you or your office/ company/ team, chances are very good that you can operate or try again the next day or after necessary recovery actions are taken. In more contested circumstances, you must intentionally retreat, regroup, and reattack.
Desperation in the face of adversity often suspends your capacity for intentional behavior. If you did not plan any contingency, you will default to unintentional behavior which will most likely be your practiced (hopefully trained) behavior, or raw emotionally informed reaction to whatever is going on.
Second, my advice is to take a very broad interpretation from a stoic teaching:
There are only two things in this universe: things that you can control, and things that you cannot.
Control generally means that if you command (either verbally or actively) something, then it gets done, but I recommend interpreting “control” as “influence.” Chances are high that you will have insufficient control to set your situation to your liking, but you can likely do something that will have some effect.
In Conclusion…
Different circumstances in your life call for different behaviors – this is obvious enough. But a lot of obvious things in life go overlooked unless you aim to see them.
Has this post given you anything specific to think about?
Intentionally consider:
Are you forgetting to aim for anything right now?
Are you readjusting your aim as often as you should be? Are you adjusting your aim too often?
Are you helping others aim better (or at all)?
Do you need help adjusting your aim?
72 Airman's Writings 