Moving Mountains (Literally & Figuratively) with Kanban

From Bellevue, Wa … to la belle vue des Laurentides

So here I am, writing this from my still-empty home in Canada’s extraordinarily beautiful Laurentian mountains, where the most glorious views stop me in my tracks everytime I look up from my kanban.

The distance from my Seattle suburb of Bellevue, Washington to Sainte-Anne-des-Lacs, Quebec isn’t just measured in miles (2,931 to be precise. Don’t ask me what that is in kilometers yet). Rather, it’s measured in virtual sticky notes, in French phrases learned, and in countless reassuring mantras like “Can I really do this? Followed by “Bien sur! Because I can see exactly what needs to be done next!”

This is not hyperbole: Next to my passport, phone charger (and audacity), my kanban has been without a doubt the most important tool of this journey. While it has proven to be my security net ensuring no important detail falls through the cracks, it’s likewise become my window into possibility, my mirror of progress, and my daily and much-needed reminder that even the biggest mountains can be conquered one intentional step at a time.

Clarity, Completion, Sanity

Each card on my board represents a piece of my life in transition, from “Research health insurance” to “Learn grocery shopping French” to “Find affordable way to ship wine collection” (if you have ideas, *please* reach out). There is something profoundly calming about seeing my entire cross-continental move laid out in columns, watching the “Done” section grow from just a few cards a month ago to a virtual testament of accomplishment four short albeit exhausting weeks later.

And man does that feel good.

My board has sections for everything: research, packing, items for donating, coordinating, language instruction, community integration, and even a column for things I want to experience in my new home. My formal French learning cards moved slower than I’d like since my arrival here a week ago, but so long as I can see what’s left, I can tackle it. My board isn’t simply about managing language and boxes and paperwork, it was and remains about transplanting a life, about saying Au revoir to the familiar and Bonjour to the unknown. It’s not just tracking my tasks, it’s likewise tracking my courage, as each card moved to Done reminds me of a small act of bravery, a step towards a new chapter and a new language in a new home. And that just motivates me more.

Over the next couple of weeks I’ll be sharing more of my journey: the victories, the setbacks, the epiphanies, the moments when my kanban felt like the only solid ground beneath my feet. I’ll show how this simple system consisting of cards and tasks – predicated on 2 main rules of visualizing work and limiting WIP – helped manage not simply my tasks, but at times even more importantly, my emotions, my expectations, and my excitement over this fresh new start.

To be sure, my kanban has little to do with attaining perfection, instead it’s about progress, possibility, and permission to move at my own pace. Because as the mountain light outside my window shifts from blue to gold to purple, I’m learning that new beginnings don’t have to be perfect to be perfectly right.

Interested in how kanban can help you and your team move mountains? We literally wrote the book on this. Check out our Personal Kanban class on Modus Institute, where students get 6 months free of KanbanZone.