If you’ve ever worked in IT (or really any job where people rely on systems not to collapse), you know the special kind of chaos that comes when the thing everyone depends on decides to repeatedly fall apart. It’s like playing firefighter while the fire hose is tangled, the executives are yelling from the sidelines, and the users are filing tickets like kids writing letters to Santa.
That was my week.
My team was buried in the trenches with a vendor, trying to stabilize a critical system that just wouldn’t behave. Meanwhile, my role was equal parts air traffic controller, shield, and translator. I had to protect the team from the noise, feed executives just enough information to keep them calm-ish, and make sure other projects didn’t grind to a halt.
By the end of the day, I was toast. My energy tank flashing red. But here’s the thing: I’ve learned that I don’t need to control everything. In fact, trying to control everything is exactly how you lose it.
Instead, I run my version of a crisis playbook. I call it the CALM loop.
CALM stands for:
- C: Clear the smoke
- A: Assess and triage
- L: Limit work in progress to three
- M: Message stakeholders
Sounds simple. And that’s the point.
C: Clear the smoke
Before diving into the mess, I hit reset. Ninety seconds. Inhale for four, hold for four, exhale for six. Ten times. It sounds woo-woo until you actually do it and notice your prefrontal cortex come back online. Without it, you’re just reacting.
A: Assess and triage
You can’t fix what you haven’t defined. I brain dump everything, then tag it: Critical today vs. Important this week. That visual split instantly calms the storm in my head.
L: Limit work in progress to three
Here’s the ugly truth: you cannot do it all. Focus on just three things at a time. Three. That’s it. When those are in motion, everything else is gravy. It’s about building momentum instead of drowning in half-finished “priorities.”
M: Message stakeholders
Executives don’t need a novel. They need three lines: what happened, what I’m doing, what I need. Rinse and repeat every 2–3 hours until the crisis is contained.
That’s CALM. Four steps that turn “oh no” into “I’ve got this.”
Look, chaos is exhausting. I won’t pretend it’s not. But leadership isn’t about pretending everything is fine or screaming louder than everyone else. It’s about bringing clarity when the room feels like it’s caving in.
This week, your challenge: build yourself a one-page triage board. Four columns: Critical Today, This Week, Waiting, Done. Keep it visible. Next time the fire alarm rings, you’ll have a place to land.
Because the truth is, the world doesn’t need another hero who tries to do it all. It needs leaders who know how to stay calm in the storm and help others find their footing too.