In the early fall of 2008, my wife and I walked to dinner through Midtown Manhattan. A half-block from Grand Central Station, we encountered an investment banker; my prognosis was based on his dress, the embroidered corporate logo on his backpack, and the financial folder under his arm. He was in a hurry, and we happened to make eye contact. He proceeded to projectile vomit onto the street and continue on his way, his gait unbroken and his demeanor unchanged. Within days, the financial insolvency of major Wall Street institutions would become front-page news.

Weeks later, my wife and I wondered what tremors of systemic cataclysm had corroded his worldview that was not part of our consciousness when we crossed paths. We carried the minor stress of navigating NYC streets and arriving on time for our event. He was forerunning the potential of societal collapse. Our stress levels were exponentially disconnected.

It is convenient to apply our stress level to situations we encounter. If we arrive calm and serene to a meeting, we might not embody the fight or flight narrative being discussed due to a revenue shortfall. If we reach a meeting late and are completely distracted by external events, we might add fuel to the anxiety percolating among our team.

How might we calibrate to set shared expectations before moving forward as a team? How might we be aligned to make the best possible decisions instead of deferring to the narrative stress might shout?