The hardest move I’ve ever planned (and it wasn’t mine)

I’ve spent my life helping people move.

I’ve written 29 books on the subject of growth, change, marriage, and leadership.

I’ve coached hundreds of executives through "moving" their teams from stagnation to peak performance.

I’ve spent decades studying the mechanics of human transition.

But this Friday, all that expertise feels very small.

This Friday, we're moving my mother into an Assisted Living Facility (ALF).

If you’ve ever had to pack up a life into cardboard boxes—the photos that have lost their color, the chair that holds the shape of a person who is changing before your eyes—you know that "logistics" is a poor word for what this actually is.

This isn’t a change of address.

It is a role reversal.

It is a weight that hits you in the chest every time you tape a box shut.

It has led me to a question I want to pose to you today:

Who is the most difficult person you’ve ever had to move?

In my professional world, we talk about "moving the needle" or "moving people to greater levels of effectiveness."

We treat it like a chess match.

But in the quiet of this week, I’ve realized that moving people—truly moving them from where they are comfortable to where they need to be—is the most exhausting work a leader will ever do.

The Science of Why They Stay

As a leader, you’ve likely felt the frustration of a team member who refuses to evolve.

You’ve provided the resources, the "map," and the vision, yet they remain anchored to the spot.

It’s easy to label this as "difficult" or "stubborn," but the research tells a deeper story.

Behavioral science shows us that the human brain is hardwired for the status quo.

When we ask someone to move toward "greater effectiveness," we aren't just asking for a change in workflow; we are triggering an Amygdala Hijack.

To the Brain’s Survival Center, "New" equals "Dangerous."

Furthermore, the Endowment Effect—a phenomenon where individuals value what they currently possess more than what they could gain—creates a psychological anchor.

When you ask a person to change, they don't see the "Greater Level" you’re promising; they only see the "Loss" of the familiar.

Whether it’s a mother leaving a home of fifty years or a Vice President leaving a legacy process that no longer works, the biological friction is the same.

They aren’t fighting you; they are fighting their own survival instincts.

The Real Emotion of the Transition

I will be honest with you: this last week has been a battleground of guilt and exhaustion.

As a coach, I am trained to be the "steady hand" and the "calm voice."

But as a son, my hand is shaking.

I’ve had to look into the eyes of someone I love and tell them that where they are is no longer safe, even if it is where they want to be.

I’ve had to manage the "difficult" moments—the resistance, the repetitive questions, the grief—while maintaining the momentum of the move.

This is the hidden tax of leadership.

We are the ones who have to carry the vision of the "Better Place" even when the people we are leading are trying to jump off the ship.

We have to be the container for their fear until they are settled enough to see the benefit for themselves.

It is lonely work.

It is emotional work.

And it is, quite frankly, heartbreaking.

The Ultimate Act of Love

I’m writing this to you because I know many of you are paralyzed by a "move" you need to make in your own organizations or families.

You see a team member who is drowning in their current role.

You see a department that is stagnant.

You see a person you care about who is stuck in a cycle of mediocrity.

And you hesitate.

You hesitate because you don’t want to be the "difficult" one.

You don't want to cause the friction.

You don't want to be the reason for the tears or the "I don't want to go."

But I want to remind you of a truth I am leaning on heavily as Friday approaches:

Sometimes the most loving thing you can do to help someone is to move them to where they need to be, not where they want to stay.

True stewardship—whether of a company or a family—is not about keeping people comfortable in a burning building.

It is about having the courage to lead them to the exit, even if they fight you every step of the way.

Kindness is not the same as "niceness."

Niceness lets people stay in a state of decay because we are afraid of the conflict.

Kindness, real leadership, moves them toward flourishing, even at the cost of our own temporary comfort.

A Final Thought for This Week

As I navigate the hallways of my mother's home with her for the last time, I am reminded that "moving" people isn't about power.

It’s about protection.

Who are you leaving "stuck" because you are afraid of the move?

Who are you doing a disservice to by letting them remain ineffective?

Don't let your fear of the friction stop you from being the leader they actually need.

The "Greater Level" is waiting for them, but they might need you to carry the boxes for a while until they get there.

Until our next email, keep moving.

To your leadership success!

Marcel Sanchez

Founder, Imagine Coaching Academy

ICF Level 1 Coach Education Provider

www.ImagineCoachingAcademy.com

P.S.Let’s explore if ICF coach certification training is your next step. Text "COACH TRAINING" to schedule a discovery call: 786-554-0312