I’m taking you back to October, 14th, 1947.

As Captain “Chuck” Yeager, an Air Force test pilot, is about to climb into the cockpit and take his shot at breaking the sound barrier.

A number of pilots have already tried to fly faster than the speed of sound.

Several didn’t make it back alive.

Most just turned back when their planes shook uncontrollably – feeling as though they were about to be torn asunder.

Pilots shared a myth about a demon that would disintegrate anything that approached the speed of sound.

At the time, it was believed that an airplane could never go faster than the speed of sound, because the shock waves were just too much to travel through.

Flying faster than the speed of sound seemed like an impossible challenge.

“None of that made any difference to me,” Chuck Yeager later said, chewing on some gum, as he was prone to do. “I was a test pilot. And we were testing.”

For him, it was all about focus. Keeping focused, alert, checking his instruments, and being ready for the unknown.

What did it feel like, as he approached the speed of sound, and the plane started shaking uncontrollably? “You don’t feel anything,” he said. “You’re too busy. You’re going through your checklist, checking all your gauges, testing the stabilizer effectiveness.”

Then, the Mach-meter momentarily stopped.

And his plane started to go down.

The plane’s meters were confused. They didn’t tell him what to do next.

He had to rely on his own internal navigation system.

Otherwise, it would have been all over.

Instead, he ignored what his gauges were indicating and took the plane straight up.

Then the Mach-meter jumped to 1.06.

He had done it. He had broken the sound barrier.

“Once we got it above the speed of sound,” he said, “there were no more shock waves.”

And the ride smoothed out.

As he later recalled, “It was as smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

Ironically, he couldn’t hear the sonic boom in the cockpit – because by the time it happened, he was just slightly ahead of the speed of sound.

Only those on the ground heard it.

But he, and everyone there, knew what just happened.

They knew he did it. He had accelerated to Mach 1.06, over 750 miles per hour.

That night Yeager fixed a pitcher of martinis to celebrate with his wife. And he howled at the moon.

“I had flown at supersonic speeds for 18 seconds.

There was no buffet, no jolt, no shock. Above all, no brick wall to smash into.

And I was alive.”

And with that underlying sense of ultimate coolness, we kissed the Wright Brothers good bye and entered the age where astronauts could fly to the moon.

Limitations were exceeded.

New possibilities abound.

What can we learn from Chuck Yeager’s experience?

What is your personal sound barrier?

Your goal?

Your ultimate challenge?

Your dream?

What is that one thing, that something, that is just beyond your reach?

What happens to you when you get close to your personal sound barrier?

When your plane starts shaking?

Can you stay focused on what you have to do?

When we are on the edge of our comfort zone, amazing things can happen.

If we’re open to the possibility.

What was it like for Chuck Yeager to break the sound barrier?

He can’t tell us.

Because the moment was there and gone.

And he didn’t even hear the sonic boom as he broke the sound barrier.

Because he was going faster than the sound.

You’re ahead of the sound barrier when you break through it.

Still, as you approach your personal sound barrier, everything is shaking.

And it can seem like everything is about to fall apart.

That’s when you have to rely on your internal navigation system.

To trust your intuition.

The Sound Barrier is nothing but the limitations we place on ourselves.

Rather than focusing on the barriers that separate and come between us, why not focus on the possibilities that can connect us – to ourselves and to each other?

Forget the barriers.

Focus on possibilities.

On what can be.

That shift can open up new doors – to a reality that exists because of you.

by Patrick Sweeney,
Caliper President

So, what are you practicing now?

My dear friend Russ Ferrara, who I first met in college and with whom I recently created a performance piece, is a trained classical musician.

Part of practicing for him, of course, has always been about maintaining his technical skills. “Running scales from the bottom to the top of the instrument’s range – or that wicked arpeggio that ties your fingers in knots,” as he told me.

“That’s most of what musicians need to practice when we are starting out,” he underscored.

“Early on,” he said, “practice, for musicians, is becoming acquainted with your instrument.”

“But, at this point, after playing professionally for nearly four decades,” he added, laughing, as he does so easily, “I’m pretty well-acquainted with this instrument.”

So now he focuses more on rhythmic challenges, or new concepts, or working on particularly difficult pieces that require enormous dexterity.

The notion of practicing is intriguing to me because I believe it is something that leaders could learn a lot about by listening to musicians.

What are you practicing?

It is not something that most leaders think – or even talk – about. We usually just do – whatever it is we’re doing.

We live more in a world of doing than practicing.

But musicians, regardless of how accomplished, always practice.

That’s interesting to think about.

What would be different if you were practicing?

Would it be communicating your vision?

Implementing your plans?

Measuring progress?

Recognizing success?

Mentoring others?

Honing your intuition?

Staying focused on what is important?

Being more flexible?

Getting more in tune – with yourself?

Connecting more – with others?

Listen. And learn from musicians.

To take your leadership skills to a whole new level, figure out what you are going to start practicing.

Today. Tomorrow. And next week.

You’ve got to break through;

You’ve got to break with the past;

To break out;

You’ve got to break away from what you know;

Break a leg;

But don’t let your spirit get broken;

You have to break eggs to make an omelet;

Sometimes, you’ve got to break into a sweat;

Give me a break, for crying out loud;

Wait! We have some late breaking news;

Traveling at breakneck speed;

We hear the sound of breaking glass;

Not the sound of hearts breaking;

No, no. no!

We should be break dancing;

Not breaking and entering;

Wait, I’m having trouble hearing you;

You’re breaking up;

We cannot be breaking up;

No. No. Say it isn’t so.

We should be together;

It’s time to break out – in song;

And break a record;

Then, we can break away from the crowd;

As the storm begins to break;

But, first, you have to break the chains that bind you;

Then break a rule or two;

Then, when you’re ready to break an old habit that may have gotten you here;

When you’ve reached your breaking point;

You can break that spell;

No need to break down;

Just break a dollar;

But don’t break a promise;

Just break away;

And take a break, if you have to;

You’ve got one foot on the accelerator,

And one on the brakes;

If we don’t break with the past,

We will break apart;

Or come to a complete brake;

We’ll be right back, after a quick break.

Part of what I’m talking about

Is doing something the same old way;

Over and over again;

Because it worked at one time or another.

Breaking away from all that –

And I want you to think about this –

All that stuff

That we need to break away from

Is nothing

But our own perspective;

Something we’ve been leaning on

For way too long.

It’s just something we’ve got to break through;

To get on the other side of;

So we can finally see

Clearly.