The Same, but Different

It’s easy to forget that my perspective on the matter is not the only one, not the only possible interpretation.

The same thing, seen in another way, from another angle, from a different set of eyes and experiences, can and likely will form a different impression.

The intersection of those two points of view is a choice point. It is the place at which we can choose a stance of investigation and integration or one of intransigence and certainty. And it is a choice, that’s the most important realization of all. It is always a choice.

These photos were taken within seconds of one another. No filters, no manipulation. It is the same thing, and from one angle to the next it is completely different.



‘Earth Wall’ – Andy Goldsworthy – San Francisco
Photo credit: David Berry, 2019

Angle of Repose

angle of repose (n): the steepest angle at which a sloping surface formed of a particular loose material is stable.

I couldn’t resist lying down on Andy Goldworthy’s epic work, Wood Line, when we walked along it last Saturday. I am on vacation, a time of rest and relaxation, so I thought I would practice a little.

I wish I had stayed there longer. It was a perfect afternoon.

And since that afternoon I have thought that, had I done so, I might have just slipped away, the angle of my “loose material” overwhelming my repose.

Goldsworthy only creates that which will eventually return to the earth.

I think that’s what was happening to me, lying there even briefly. I felt pulled into myself, a jumble of loose material wanting to settle and be settled, wanting to reconnect to known and knowable things.

And yet, it was not to be. And I was up and walking again before I could slip away.

How necessarily, how painfully human.


Wood Line by Andy Goldsworthy – San Francisco

Here to there. There to here.


“We’re constantly saying as human beings,
‘Over there is slightly more important than here, where I’m standing.'”
– David Whyte

“Real change is best understood by staying in one place.”
– Andy Goldsworthy

I am pulled to exploration and adventure, the discovery of elsewhere as a tonic for here.

I am pulled home again, for the reassurance of the known and the rediscovery of here as a tonic for there. (And the trustworthiness of my own bed!)

Each day this push and pull.

Each day a journey into the labyrinth – into the center of my experience – that foreign land of familiar monsters where I left them and the prospect of new ones around the bend.

Each day a journey out again, the retracing of steps, slightly more knowing than before, slightly less defensive, better equipped for the “here” that awaits.

Here to there. There to here.

Always coming back. Always coming home.

{Hat tip to Molly Davis}

DAVID BERRY is the author of “A More Daring Life: Finding Voice at the Crossroads of Change” and the founder of RULE13 Learning. He speaks and writes about the complexity of leading in a changing world. Connect with him on Twitter at @berrydavid.



Scattered Thoughts On Creativity

Starting here: I recently watched the film, “My Neighbor Totoro” by Hayao Miyazaki. It was recommended by a friend following a conversation on creativity. A children’s film, such as it is, I settled down with my two daughters last Sunday afternoon to check it out. Interestingly enough, the movie centers on two sisters who are adapting to a move to the countryside. As they explore their new home the power of their imagination brings to life magical creatures and incredible happenings, the most significant of which is an enormous tree sprouting from their yard in the middle of the night. In reality they had simply planted some seeds. In their imagination (fueled by their insistence on immediate gratification) the tree erupted from the ground, filled the sky and became their new vantage point on the world around them.

Creativity starts with “rootedness.” A grounding in something solid and well-defined. Seeds are planted, roots move into the earth fed by nutrients and pulled by gravity, preparing for an upward push towards the sky. The tree is simultaneously moving into the earth as it extends itself into open space.

When I weave in Andy Goldsworthy’s idea that “change is best understood by staying in one place” the image of the tree as a metaphor for creative thought and action takes on another layer of meaning. The tree is stationary; growing down to grow up. It is a keen observer of the world around it and it uses this awareness to adapt and to grow. Stay with me here…

Let’s personalize it: I am the tree. If I am well-planted, well-rooted in my beliefs and values; if I am willing to stand firmly in reality, aware of who and what is around me and committed to continuous learning about them, I create the conditions for creative possibility. As I stretch myself upward, I do not do so at the risk of losing my “groundedness,” I do so because of it. My confidence is fed by the core truths at my base; the steady supply of food and water.

Change is a certainty. It is the wind that topples the shallow-rooted tree. Learning, creativity and adaptability are a must in the face of change. And they are only possible when the conditions are right, when the roots are deep.