I wrote this piece a few days before Thanksgiving last year during a visit to Humboldt Redwood State Park. It’s an extraordinary place…humbling, grounding and pure.
Modern pilgrims wander through an ancient cathedral.
They bear witness to the crescendo of a timeless symphony that began with a single note of fertile earth.
Modern faith fails to note that these pillars haven’t always splintered the sun.
It must learn this one thing: that every living thing is called to find its tallest point, and then to reach further still.
It’s what we are made for.
Humboldt Redwood State Park – November 19, 2018
“The tree which moves some to tears of joy
is in the eyes of others only
a green thing which stands in the way…
As a man is, so he sees.”
As this semester drew to a close I decided to share with my students some images from a recent trip to the Humboldt Redwood State Park here in California.
I wanted to share my childlike enthusiasm for these magnificent trees. I wanted to inspire them to seek out wonder and awe in their lives. I wanted them to remember that in the field of “management” (which is what the course tells us we are studying) we do well to remember that it is first and always a human endeavor.
I wanted them to believe my admonition that a profound sense of awe and wonder – an appreciation for the spectacular miracle that is any living and learning system – is essential if we are to appropriately honor the very real human beings present in our workplaces, responsive to our decisions, trusting of our intentions.
I then took it a step further. I encouraged, even challenged them to choose to be redwoods in their own communities. I suggested that such a choice comes with great risk because a redwood outside of a redwood forest would be seen as a peculiar, if fascinating anomaly. I then suggested that living a “redwood life,” conspicuous though it might be, might just inspire others to do the same, and that we might just create an entire forest of people fulfilling their potential for growth and impact. In fact, it would be the only way for them to survive.
Redwoods are shallow rooted, a shocking realization given their massive size. Instead of deep roots to support them they use their upper limbs to make contact with their neighbors and together form a dense network of mutual well-being.
Stand tall, reach out, help one another. Live a life of wonder and awe at the gifts of living and learning.
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.