We recently adopted a new puppy, 
adorable, energetic, and full of less-than-desirable puppy habits.

Her first week, the moment I would open her playpen,
she would bolt down the stairs,
ignoring every command or voice in her path,
laser-focused on getting outside.

Not surprisingly, when she got there, she found a closed door.
[All the people with thumbs were still upstairs.]

She’d sit there, staring out the frosted glass,
waiting for, I assume,
the door to open itself.

So I’d wait,
then walk downstairs, gently pick her up,
carry her back up the stairs,
and plop her in her playpen again,
doing my best to avoid her sullen glare.

After a week of this, the pattern changed.
She learned to wait,
To pause until someone opened the door.

I bring this up because we, as strategists, do the same thing.

We get a client request, a proposal, an idea.
Our playpen opens, and we sprint wildly down the stairs.
Same path, same momentum, same instinct.
Without scanning the environment.
Without assessing conditions.
Without checking whether a “door” might still be closed.

And when we get plopped back in the playpen,
we wonder what went wrong.

Before you rush into a strategy, pause.
Survey the landscape, verify the data you’re working with,
Determine your opportunities and threats,
And who you might need to help open the door.
Otherwise, it shouldn’t surprise you
when you end up staring through frosted glass,
waiting to go back to where you started.