The tone in the office was low. There wasn’t much I could do under a challenging leadership approach in terms of processes, support, and engaged guidance, but encouragement comes in many forms. Just because I couldn’t fix everything didn’t mean I couldn’t have an impact. Plus, I was tired of people saying “It is what it is.” Was it a true statement? Yes. Was I going to settle into the idea of because I couldn’t do some things, I couldn’t do anything? No. I’d momentarily slip into that mentality but claw my way out of it, because it’s not sustainable. It makes me feel like a victim, and even if I could only control my own attitude, it was something. And if I could bring a small bit of sunshine into a few people’s days, I would at least try.

I looped in two other people to see if they saw any issues with my plan, and it was quite fun to keep the surprise private. I ordered a lot of tiny plastic ducks. (If you’re on any platform of social media, you’ve probably seen videos of people pranking family members and friends with hundreds of hidden ducks, frogs, or other little creatures strategically placed around their homes for the homeowners to maddeningly try to find.) We have two offices, so I had to find a way to hide them in both. I secured an accomplish and started hiding them one night after everyone was out of the office.

The next morning was so much fun to see. I got into the office about 15 minutes late, and it was buzzing. “Who hid the ducks?” “What do we do with them?” “I don’t care who or why. I just love the game.” “Did you get a X-colored one? Do you want to trade?” “I really needed this silliness.” “How many did you get?” “The mood in the office seems so much lighter this morning.”

Success.

But that wasn’t the end.

Of course, some people can’t handle not knowing, so I was busted by the camera footage, but I told the inquirer and the tech people they were now in on it and must vow to keep it private so others could enjoy the mystery.

People came in the following morning, hoping to find more, but I didn’t want it to become a daily expectation, so I’d skipped the day. But the next day, there were more. In all, I hid ducks four or five times until I ran out. Each time I hid some, I saw a couple no one had found or someone had rehidden. I even found a few spots where they’d added ducks to make a hidden group. When all the little ducks were gone, I arranged one more duck surprise. I had placed a black dot on several ducks in one hiding session. No one had mentioned them. However, on the final duck day, I placed some larger glitter ducks with a note “If you found a little duck with a black dot on the bottom, you can choose one of us!” And there was a “Thanks for finding us. It’s been fun! From: The Ducks” sign next to treats of candy, granola bars, etc. Most people still didn’t know who was behind the ducks, but it didn’t matter. People were content to have fun with the mystery.

Several months later, I left for a weeklong trip, following by a week in another office. The tone of the office had move beyond the leadership challenges we had. There were new challenges and transitions, and we were trying to rally together. I felt bad I wasn’t more available, so I hatched another plan. I ordered a variety of small plastic critters, and for the first week I was gone, they were outside my office for people to take. After all, the rows of ducks at their desks might need some new friends.

Sometimes we can’t offer the fix that will truly help someone, but we can do something. We can listen. We can help with temporary ideas. We can lift up attitudes. We can encourage accountability. And sometimes, we can give a smile (and temporary distraction) with a small plastic duck.