Whose sandbox is it anyway?

Did you play as a kid in a sandbox?

Was it your sandbox, the sandbox of a neighborhood kid, or perhaps a public sandbox?

What do you remember about your sandbox adventures?

Was there ever a territorial fight about the best part of the sandbox? Or perhaps some kid entered your sandbox, and you were not pleased with the uninvited intruder.

Even if it was not your sandbox.

You claimed temporary possession of your space. This was your place and time to play; nobody would interrupt that joy.

Occasionally you would allow somebody to enter your sandbox space and play with you.

But a tantrum would occasionally occur when that kid had different ideas about what needed to get created or started to demolish your creation.

Based on the description above, you may think I have some childhood sandbox trauma, but that’s not the case.

I have a rich imagination and memories from moving the little red seashell sandbox of our kids around the world with us.

Getting rid of the sand responsibly before another move was always a last-minute exercise.

Why the sandbox analogy, you may wonder?

Because, as adult leaders, we often find it hard when other leaders decide to play in our sandbox.

When you leave my sandbox alone, I’ll leave your sandbox alone.

That’s how we often think.

And let’s face it; when we feel ownership over our area of responsibility and our teams, it’s not easy to allow someone to come in and provide you with a different perspective.

Or even, and hopefully constructive, criticism.

We don’t like it when our carefully built strategies, tactics, and relationships are suddenly questioned.

Our fragile egos might get hurt a little.

As a kid, there would always be one kid who was happy, outgoing, and inviting others into their sandbox to play with them.