August 10, 2020
Good morning!
We have returned to the tropical weather of July; no rain, but very humid. ’tis the season of the caching of the salt, as they say. ’tis also the season of, do you mow the lawn when only 27% of it needs it?
The latest research from The Economist: Obesity has a direct correlation to tyrannical and corrupt political leaders; the greater BMI = the greater tyranny. Hmmm…
The Economist lists Turkmenistan as the most corrupt with its leader’s BMI at ~35… with Uzbekistan and Ukraine following closely behind. Russia’s Putin is among the most corrupt but has a slightly healthier BMI, though still correlated. Estonia is the least corrupt and its leader has the healthiest BMI. Who did all of this measuring? No doubt it’s UK-centric, but still interesting.
- “Imagine a moment when you felt fully comfortable with others. You weren’t guarding what you said. You weren’t monitoring how others perceived you. And you shared life stories you rarely do. That’s the height of vulnerability, and it’s more powerful than you can even imagine.” (George)
- “No one is an expert in everything; the strongest businesses are built on the smartest people — not on one person… Great leaders aren’t know-it-alls who continuously try to outshine everyone… They admit when they’re wrong and genuinely want to learn from others… inspiring your people to believe in the impossible.” (Leadership First)
- Does your organization’s vision produce goosebumps or tears of joy when people read it or hear it — and does it also make logical sense? If not, it probably still needs work.
- Speaking of flying cars, “You may smile, but they will come.” (Hank Ford)
- “Progress is more important than perfection.” (Simek)
- “When you want to feel understood and you need someone to process with… if you don’t have a peer community made up of other leaders, it will leave a gap in your growth as a leader.” (Redman)
- (So true… hence, for me, Rotary International = a ready-made peer group.)
- Among the more challenging of the many wilderness high adventures I enjoyed in my younger days, and upon which I led and guided dozens of other people, was the rugged mountainous hike of the Northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail through central and northern Maine.
- As I look back with a full measure of humility not easily swallowed I realize I suffered greatly and deservedly for lack of proper planning, but that’s another story for another time.
- The mountains of Maine are more challenging than the more picturesque Rockies because in Maine they’ve not yet discovered switchbacks. If a 3,000 summit looms in front of you, the narrow, rocky, rutted, root-infested trail leads straight up — the shortest distance between two points — and then straight down, always more difficult than going up.
- While shouldering a 50-pound backpack, using Zen to ward off swarms of mosquitoes clamoring for your blood, enduring high humidity contributing to fatigue, patiently anticipating a cool breeze that never comes, and anxiously yearning for vast vistas at which to pause and marvel which never occur due to the thick forest and tangled undergrowth, an onerous trek quickly evolves to impossibly difficult. No fun at all. It’s soon all about survival and little else.
- Again, preparation, or lack thereof, but that’s another story.
- Fast forward twelve days to Mount Katahdin, a raucous late night raccoon rager, an embarrassing injury or two, and the adventure had only just begun — but that, too, is another story for another time.
- So, here’s the point of the story.
- Having planned and carried out dozens of these adventures, my practice once back home was to put together a multimedia program for participants, parents, and families a travelogue of sorts, to showcase the trip and its many highlights. Trouble was, what in the world were the highlights of this trip?! I knew the lowlights, but featuring them would hardly be satisfying to anyone; dark humor at best.
- Then it hit me.
- There were a few moments that were good, just a few, but enough.
- For my travelogue I focused on those few moments:
- The first few steps on Day One when backpacks were heaviest but socks were dry, clothes were clean, skin free of mosquito bites, and feet weren’t sore… that one rare mountaintop vista featuring a slight breeze… one of us catching a few wily trout from a clear mountain stream while the rest of us built a small fire, fried, and enjoyed the tasty morsels… there must have been other moments but I forget what they were.
- I could cobble together a story of happy memories from a few moments, it didn’t have to be days and days of glorious sunrises, sunsets, cool breezes, moose sightings (not a one!), and leisurely trail lunches. It could be about living to hike another day — and for there to have been just enough good among all of the bad to have given us hope.
- Hope is such a wonderful and long-forgotten behaviour. Faith is passive, hope is active, love is a choice.
- We needed all the hope we could muster for those twelve days on that grueling 120-mile stretch of the Appalachian Trail.
Be well — be servant-minded — stay safe — be buoyant!
