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
I think it’s extraordinary that even the smallest light can illuminate the darkest space. Consider that for a moment: no matter how dark it is, if you have one ray, one beam of light, you can see. And once you can see, you can act. And once you can act you are steps away from being out of the confines of darkness and into the freedom of light.
What is your one beam of light?
Is it a friendship, a poem, a word?
Is it a quote, your marriage, a lifelong friend?
Is it a story of redemption, a moment of truth, an episode of daring?
Is it a work of art, a song, a chance encounter?
Is it your child, a value, a strength?
Is it your work? Is it your faith?
One beam of light transforms the darkness. Every time.
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.