Before You Fix It, Figure Out What It Needs

Not everything needs fixing. Sometimes it needs understanding

I've been doing a lot of thinking about how we figure out what someone needs to grow. This started with homeschooling, but as it tends to happen with me, my brain immediately started connecting it to business, gardening, and life.

As I continue to read and learn from Developing a Mentor's Heart, one of the ideas I've come across is V-MASK (Vision, Mission, Abilities, Skills, and Knowledge). I'm still learning about it, so I'm not going to pretend I'm an expert and give you a lesson on the whole framework. What caught my attention was the idea of using it as a way to understand where a learner actually is so you can figure out what they need next.

That sounds simple, but it has changed the way I'm looking at my son.

I know Christopher isn't at the traditional education level for reading and math. If he were sitting in a classroom, those differences would probably be some of the first things people noticed. They might become the things he was constantly reminded he wasn't good at. And when a child repeatedly hears what they're behind in, it can be very easy for everyone involved to start looking at the child as though something is wrong with them.

But then I watch him create.

He can sit for hours drawing, colouring, cutting, folding, taping, and creating his monsters. He gets ideas and follows them. He experiments. He changes things. He has focus and drive. I honestly thought some of those things were missing because I wasn't seeing them in the subjects I expected him to be doing well in.

They aren't missing.

They're just showing up somewhere I wasn't looking.

That distinction matters.

Instead of looking at Christopher as a child who is simply "behind," I'm learning to look at him as a child who may be missing certain nutrients he needs in order to thrive. Just like a plant can look like it's struggling when what it really needs is more of something specific, a learner can have enormous strengths while still needing support in particular areas.

That feels very different from trying to fix the whole child.

And honestly, I think we do this in business all the time.

We look at a problem and immediately reach for a solution. Sales are down, so we need more marketing. We're overwhelmed, so we need a new productivity system. Something isn't getting done, so we need to work harder. A process is taking too long, so we add another spreadsheet.

I've certainly done it.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed because I don't know what needs fixing first. Other times I want to jump straight into fixing something because doing something feels better than sitting with the uncertainty of figuring out what's actually wrong.

But action isn't automatically progress.

I've already started seeing this with one of my clients. She has application forms that work, technically, but parts of the process have been creating more manual work rather than less. Some of the wording is vague, which means applicants have to ask questions, and we end up going back and forth to clarify things. The forms do their job, but they aren't doing the job as efficiently as they could.

So instead of simply adding more work around the problem, I'm working on improving the actual process. The goal is clearer questions, less back-and-forth, less manual work, and eventually more automation where it makes sense.

The problem wasn't that we needed to work harder.

The process needed a little attention.

I've also been reminded of this in my garden, although admittedly I learned this lesson the hard way.

My GreenStalk had started leaning like the Tower of Pisa, and I knew I should move it. I didn't. Then we had a big windstorm, and inevitably, it fell over. I lost a couple of plants, and the rest were bruised and banged up.

At that point, there wasn't much I could do. I couldn't magically put the plants back into the exact condition they were in before the fall. I watered them, gave them some time, and watched to see what happened.

And they surprised me.

My four o'clocks are smelling divine. The nasturtiums are blooming better than ever. The chives are shooting up like little fountains, and the sage and strawberries on the top tier seem determined to compete for space.

The GreenStalk fell.

The garden wasn't finished.

That's another distinction I'm learning to make.

Something can be struggling without being broken. Something can be behind without being incapable. A process can be inefficient without needing to be completely thrown out. Sometimes we don't need to start over. We need to figure out what is actually missing and give it some attention.

That is what I hope V-MASK will help me do with Christopher. Not look at everything he isn't doing yet, but understand where he is, what he already has, and what he needs next. I don't want to work against the parts of him that are thriving just because they don't look like traditional school success.

And maybe that's something worth carrying into business, too.

Before we decide that our marketing isn't working, our systems are broken, or we're simply not doing enough, maybe we should pause and ask a better question: What is actually missing here?

Maybe it's knowledge. Maybe it's a better process. Maybe it's support. Maybe it's clarity. Maybe it's time. Or maybe, like Christopher sitting on the floor creating monsters for hours, the thing we thought was missing is actually there. We're just looking for it in the wrong place.

I'm learning that growth isn't always about adding more.

Sometimes it's about paying closer attention.

Look Before You Leap

Before you add another strategy, tool, course, or task to your business, take a few minutes to observe what is actually happening. Where is the friction? What keeps getting repeated? What works surprisingly well? What seems to be missing?

Then ask yourself what the smallest useful adjustment might be.

You don't have to fix everything. You don't even have to have the whole answer.

Start by figuring out what needs you.