Not Life or Death

March 11, 2011. I was at the office in Yoyogi.

Typing as usual. I finished a line and looked up. The shaking hit. This one was bad. Vertical motion.

The day before, we had hauled a 19-inch full rack into the office. No time to set it up, so it sat on its side, temporary. That turned out to be the right call. Standing upright, it would have toppled. The worst-case scenario had been accidentally avoided.

The shaking was violent, but no one was hurt. We evacuated to a nearby park. Buildings swayed in the distance. Office workers and residents from the neighborhood gathered there, uneasy, waiting. Every aftershock drew a gasp from someone. Phones were dead. Everyone was trying to reach family and failing.

Then my friend, our company's founder, spoke.

Our work is not a matter of life and death. Not right now. So drop everything. Go do what you need to do.

I don't remember his exact words. I remember the meaning. In that chaos, it was the clearest thinking anyone offered.

I still recall that line when a project reaches the breaking point. When a teammate is ground down and hollowed out, I borrow those words. This job doesn't hold anyone's life in its hands. You can walk away. Take care of yourself first.