The Formative Mistake
Leaks create teachable moments. Sometimes they expose what is broken. Sometimes they expose what is unfinished in us.
Past
When I was 19, I spent six weeks in Israel on an archaeological dig in the Golan Heights at Caesarea Philippi. We uncovered pottery shards, stones, portions of a cardo, fragments of history layered beneath centuries of soil. No gold. At least not the kind you trade. But one discovery stayed with me: first century terracotta Roman sewer pipe. Handmade, functional, and still active nearly two thousand years later. We were about fifteen feet below grade when a small frog launched out of that ancient pipe and startled me back to the present. Even buried systems still carry life. Mind… Blown!
Fast forward to 1999. I was in my late twenties reinventing myself and doing handyman work on rental properties. I found out I was good with my hands and could do a lot, but like most people, I avoided plumbing. I turned down work that involved it because I was intimidated by it. It felt REALLY technical, unpredictable, complicated, and volatile. And yet there was something compelling about it.
Then I had an epiphany, “This is job security!” I knew for a fact that society has an incredible need for plumbing. Civilization depends on what flows beneath the surface. Water moving where it should and stopping where it must. The demand for skilled plumbing would never disappear. Looking back, it feels as if the excavation in Israel was preparing me to excavate my own fear. So, I found a place that would teach me to be a plumber.
Present
I was eager to learn and felt like I advanced quickly. The various journeymen I worked with made everything look simple and relatively routine. Piping went in with cleverness and ease. Piping joints were glued and soldered with no leaks every time. Valves turned smoothly and fittings sealed tight. My confidence grew with each completed system.
After observing that rhythm for a couple of months (yes a couple of months), I decided to help my in-laws at the time. They had a main shut-off valve inside their home that was dripping and needed to be replaced. And one Saturday morning, I began what should’ve been an easy repair: Shut off the main valve at the street, cut out the old valve and solder a new one in, and restore service. Done!
Except none of the valves fully shut off, not at the street, and water kept seeping through. What began as a routine repair turned into anxiety. The house needed water restored. I needed control and I had neither. By Saturday night, I came to a stark reality I knew what I knew, but I did not know all that I needed to know.
In that moment, I faced a reality every leader encounters at some point.
Fortunately, I swallowed my pride and I called one of the master plumbers I was learning under for help. He was gracious and resolved the issue in under ten minutes. His solution was brilliantly simple. He packed bread into the pipe to temporarily stop the water flow long enough to complete the repair. The water dissolved the bread later. Crisis over. Lesson delivered.
That night became what I now call the “Formative Mistake.” It established something foundational in me. Failure is often the bedrock of real competence. Before authority. Before confidence. Before leadership.
From that experience, several principles have shaped how I lead and how I train others:
Confidence without full understanding creates unnecessary risk.
Pressure exposes the gap between perceived competence and actual competence.
Asking for help early prevents larger failures later.
Mastery appears simple because it is built on years of unseen mistakes.
Humility is accurate self-assessment, not weakness.
Growth accelerates when we acknowledge what we do not yet know.
Leadership begins the moment we speak honestly about both capability and limitation.
Since then, I tell every team I work with the same phrase: “speak confidently from your competence and your incompetence.” If you know it, own it. If you don’t, say it. If you are unsure, ask.
Future
Every leader eventually faces a “valve” that will not fully shut. They think they have it. They assume they know it. Every organization will encounter pressure that reveals hidden weaknesses. But the stark reality is… they know what they know, and don’t know all that they need to know. The question is not whether something will test you. The question is when something will.
The question is what you are building now beneath the surface.
Are you cultivating clarity or image?
Are you strengthening systems or covering gaps?
Are you developing people who can admit what they do not know before something bursts?
Breaking the plane from plan to execution always reveals something. Sometimes it confirms strength. Sometimes it exposes a lack of understanding. Both are necessary. Both are formative.
Dig deep because the past forms us. Be humble because the present tests us. The future depends on whether we choose humility before authority, competence before confidence, and learning before ego.
What flows next is determined by what we have built beneath it.