Last week, I conducted a program on resilience with a wonderfully engaged, collaborative group of leaders. On the final day, I decided to grab some hot water from the gym’s dispenser across the hall from my fifth-floor hotel room. Simple enough, right?

I threw on a warm-up jacket over my pjs, grabbed a mug from the coffee stand, and shuffled across the hall like a sleepy woman on a mission. Mission accomplished! Or so I thought until I found out my key card was useless. At 5 a.m. I was officially locked out of my room.

There I was. Teeth unbrushed, pajamas on, clutching a steaming mug of hot water like it was my survival tool. The hallway was my stage, and the housekeeping staff my unintended audience. I comforted myself with the thought: They’ve probably seen worse. At least I wasn’t, well, you know…

There was certainly some irony involved as only hours later, I was conducting a leadership program on resilience. My brain went straight to problem-solving mode.

• Could I make it to the nearest store and back before class? And what time do stores even open?

• Should I call one of my program participants for clothes? (Note to self: that’s weird. Don’t do that.)

• Could my husband Bill swoop in like a pajama-rescue superhero with fresh clothes from home? (Also questionable, as he’s hopefully sound asleep with the phone silenced.)

• And how exactly do hotel staff open these locks? Tiny batteries? A master key? Hocus pocus?

Canceling was never an option as participants had freed their schedules for this program. But I did start wondering if any of them were also staying at the hotel. Worse, what if they caught me in the hallway before sunrise, dressed like a cautionary tale?

That morning reminded me that resilience doesn’t always look like heroic acts in the middle of a crisis. More often, it’s about the everyday moments when we’re caught unprepared, embarrassed, or just plain stuck in our jammies in a hotel lobby asking for maintenance.

Three truths came out of my early-morning adventure:

Embarrassment is temporary and the ability to laugh at yourself builds trust with others.

Resilience shows up small before it shows up big. If we can roll with a hallway mishap, we’re better equipped for genuine problems in our work and businesses.

Preparation matters in business and in life. A little foresight, like grabbing that workout jacket to wear over jammies, was clutch!

And it all worked out. Here’s what one attendee wrote on the evaluation. “The facilitator did an excellent job maintaining high energy over two days. She was engaging, entertaining, and educational.”

Leadership isn’t about being flawless. It’s about recovering with humor, humility, and when you are holding what turned out to be a defunct hotel key card.