What the Mountain Told Me
I am writing from the top of Hollyburn Peak in Cypress Provincial Park, just North of Vancouver, BC. My knees are aching from the climb, I’m profoundly stained with mud in the deepest parts of my pours, I have an open scratch on my right forearm from a briar I did not notice in time, and…I am so happy. The 360 degree view of British Columbia is unbelievable.
Mountains have so much to teach me. They’re bigger than I am, older than I am and much wiser than I am. Mountains don’t give a damned about my ego, my agenda or my plans. Mountains have a surprising amount to say about business, about life and most of all about my place in the universe. What I do with what a mountain tells me is up to me. But I’m glad I brought something to write with, because this mountain has been talking to me all the way up. Here are fifteen lessons that the mountain reminded me of today.
1. When I am kind to people on the way up and they will be kind to me on the way back down.
Trailside courtesy is contagious. When I say “hello” to my fellow hikers, they say hello too. The greatest need of anyone I will meet on the trail today is to be acknowledged. As I see each person pass on the trail, I take a moment to see their humanity and connect with them. As I go up the trail, I smile and acknowledge the hikers coming down the trail. They feel it, and their step picks up just a little. The funny thing is this: the hikers I greet pass this little blessing on to the hikers they meet and when I head back down, I meet my own energy coming back up the mountain.
2. No matter how high I climb, someone has been there before me.
I watch for trail markers. I have a good trail map. I talk with others who have walked this trail before me and ask them for tips.
Sometimes I tend to think I’ve invented everything, but actually someone has been here before. Blazing new trails can be destructive and confusing to others who come after me.
3. I am careful about where I step. There is fragile life all around me and it is easily crushed.
As I hike, I see patches of Tundra starting to come out of the snow. Tundra can be very fragile. I understand that a single footprint can take up to 100 years to recover. That’s why it’s important to watch where I step.
As a leader, fragile signs of life constantly surround me. My fellow journeyers want to bloom, but they are initially very easily discouraged. A careless step, an unkind word, can have very long-term consequences.
4. Dress for rapidly changing weather.
As I climb, the weather changes very frequently. Storms roll in quickly and dissipate just as quickly. The business climate is more changeable now than ever. Mergers, acquisitions, and globalization are all colliding like weather patterns on mountaintops. I review my strategy at each step. I don’t try to take on the whole mountain at once. While I know where I am going and how I will get there, I still have to be willing to let go of one trail for another.
5. It means more if I don’t climb alone.
Until recently, I’ve always been a solo climber. I tend to lace up my boots, throw on my fanny pack and take off. But over time, I’ve learned that there’s only one thing better than reaching a peak and that is helping others reach the peak. My job as a leader is not to excel and to be great. It is to facilitate the growth of others, so they can be great. If you think it feels incredible to stand on the mountain top and to slowly drink in a 360-degree view, try standing on the mountain top, surrounded by people you care about and look at their faces. It’ll change your life.
6. We all get lost some times. Admit it. The greatest danger on the trail is my ego.
There is no greater danger on the trail than ego. Ego tells me not to slow down. Ego says to not stop or listen to others when there’s a fork in the trail. Ego tells me that I don’t have to worry about the weather. If I let it, ego will get me killed.
I like the Daniel Boone story. When a woman asked him if he had ever been lost, he replied "I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for several weeks." In the last few months, I’ve probably said, “I don’t know” more than any time in the past. That simple phrase of acknowledgement lets others know that it’s OK to help me figure it out. When I let go of ego, I allow others to rise up to help. We enjoy the journey more knowing we helped each other get there.
7. Don’t try to conquer the trail. Conquering comes from ego. I hike at a pace that allows me to keep up a conversation.
As a younger hiker, I used to think the peak was the point. Now that I’m older and my legs and lungs have arguments over who is going to give out first, I’ve noticed something. I enjoy the journey a lot more.
8. Be here now. Looking too far ahead causes more trips and falls.
As I hike, it’s important that I keep my eyes ahead, but not too far ahead. If I look too far up the trail, I might miss what is right at my feet. In life, I only have this moment - here and now. There may not be another chance to tell the people around me how much I appreciate them.
9. Respect the locals. Marmots need love too.
On the way up to the mountain top, I ran into a not-too-happy critter. He was not pleased to see me that close to “his” mountain. And you know, since he was there first, I respect that.
Sometimes at work I bump up against someone’s territory and they react just like that critter. If I am wise, then I see the conflict as a gift from this person. I honor the gift by understanding what the other person needs, then finding a way to agree.
Oscar Wilde said, “All great ideas are dangerous.” At least they seem dangerous to those who protect the status quo. No matter what trail I take, someone else probably believes it is his or her territory. Honor that.
10. Sometimes I just have to love the mud…and the rain…and the snow.
On the Hollyburn trail I stomped through some serious boot-sucking mud…very serious. It’s the kind of penetrating mountain mud that soaks into my pours and stains my boots. It will be weeks before I get the stains out of my socks. And, it was great!
If I give up as soon as I run into a little mud (or mud slinging), I'm in for a short trip. On mountains, I’ve sloshed through rain, snow, mud…the works. At work, I’ve waded through worse than that.
When the rough stuff comes along, I don’t change my route or change my mind. I’ve learned to love mud.
11. Bugs are. I can’t wish them away. I can’t shoo them away. Be OK with that.
Where I find wet trails like the Hollyburn trail, I find the bugs that love the wet season. There were places on the trail where I could hardly inhale without breathing in a bug. I couldn’t avoid the bugs. I couldn’t make them go away. All I could do was to choose my attitude.
I expect bugs. Every new product has them, and the more technology my project incorporates, the higher the chances that something will break. I’ve learned to be OK with that. If I expect my project to be bug free, then it’s time for me to wake up and smell the “Off.” By anticipating bugs and helping others to have the same expectation, I avoid a lot of emotional baggage.
12. I pack in my own food and water. I take care of my own trash. No one else will do it for me.
When I hike, I wear a fanny pack with some food and two bottles of water, even if I’m going for a quarter of a mile. That way, I’m always prepared. I don’t look to someone else to energize me, motivate me or nourish me. I am self-sustaining, self-rewarding and self-congratulating. If no one else says, “You’re doing great” then say it to myself.
Also, nothing makes me sadder than finding trash along the trail. I often pack out twice what I packed in because I’m busy picking up trash left behind by others. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we all took care of our own trash?
A friend of mine once gave me this mantra, “Trust God. Clean house. Help others.” That makes sense. When I offend someone, and if I am doing anything worth doing I will offend someone, I get to stop and clean it up…right now! The more time between the offense and the clean-up, the more damage it does.
13. Some people will choose not to finish the climb with me. Be OK with that.
There’s not much in life that hurts more than good-byes. I hate to lose teammates. Still, not everyone will share my vision or direction. My trail may not be aligned with someone else’s mission, values, or timing. These people may see another trail that appeals to them. I get to be OK with that. If they choose another trail, I wish them luck and go on.
14. Sometimes the only map I have is my intuition.
Even with a good GPS, it’s still quite possible to go “off map.” Sometimes a trail changes due to avalanches or other interruptions, and sometimes I have no idea where I am on the map. I’ve learned to accept that. In a situation like that I have to depend on my “informed intuition.” I’m not saying that cutting cross country with no landmarks, directions or map is a good idea. I’m just saying, sometimes it happens. When that happens, I’ve found that my instincts are pretty good. The more time I spend in the mountains, the better I get at figuring things out. Practice does not make navigating perfect, but it helps.
15. When I reach the peak, I love the peak experience, but I don’t build a house.
For me, I enjoy nothing more than lingering at the peak after a long hike. The view from the top is unbelievable! I celebrate the peak and remain at the peak long enough to savor the surrounding beauty. That will give me strength for the next hike.
There’s something addictive about sitting on top of a mountain. The air is thinner and fresher. The temperature is almost always a few degrees cooler and yet the sun is quite intense. It is an amazing experience. Reaching the peak is always rewarding and it makes me wish for everyone else to reach the peak.
It’s also important that I remember that this only one peak and there are plenty more peaks to be climbed. Hanging around the peak may be fun, but if I stay too long, I can get caught in the dark.
So, there you have it - 15 lessons the mountain reminded me of today. Enjoy the journey.
Mountains have so much to teach me. They’re bigger than I am, older than I am and much wiser than I am. Mountains don’t give a damned about my ego, my agenda or my plans. Mountains have a surprising amount to say about business, about life and most of all about my place in the universe. What I do with what a mountain tells me is up to me. But I’m glad I brought something to write with, because this mountain has been talking to me all the way up. Here are fifteen lessons that the mountain reminded me of today.
1. When I am kind to people on the way up and they will be kind to me on the way back down.
Trailside courtesy is contagious. When I say “hello” to my fellow hikers, they say hello too. The greatest need of anyone I will meet on the trail today is to be acknowledged. As I see each person pass on the trail, I take a moment to see their humanity and connect with them. As I go up the trail, I smile and acknowledge the hikers coming down the trail. They feel it, and their step picks up just a little. The funny thing is this: the hikers I greet pass this little blessing on to the hikers they meet and when I head back down, I meet my own energy coming back up the mountain.
2. No matter how high I climb, someone has been there before me.
I watch for trail markers. I have a good trail map. I talk with others who have walked this trail before me and ask them for tips.
Sometimes I tend to think I’ve invented everything, but actually someone has been here before. Blazing new trails can be destructive and confusing to others who come after me.
3. I am careful about where I step. There is fragile life all around me and it is easily crushed.
As I hike, I see patches of Tundra starting to come out of the snow. Tundra can be very fragile. I understand that a single footprint can take up to 100 years to recover. That’s why it’s important to watch where I step.
As a leader, fragile signs of life constantly surround me. My fellow journeyers want to bloom, but they are initially very easily discouraged. A careless step, an unkind word, can have very long-term consequences.
4. Dress for rapidly changing weather.
As I climb, the weather changes very frequently. Storms roll in quickly and dissipate just as quickly. The business climate is more changeable now than ever. Mergers, acquisitions, and globalization are all colliding like weather patterns on mountaintops. I review my strategy at each step. I don’t try to take on the whole mountain at once. While I know where I am going and how I will get there, I still have to be willing to let go of one trail for another.
5. It means more if I don’t climb alone.
Until recently, I’ve always been a solo climber. I tend to lace up my boots, throw on my fanny pack and take off. But over time, I’ve learned that there’s only one thing better than reaching a peak and that is helping others reach the peak. My job as a leader is not to excel and to be great. It is to facilitate the growth of others, so they can be great. If you think it feels incredible to stand on the mountain top and to slowly drink in a 360-degree view, try standing on the mountain top, surrounded by people you care about and look at their faces. It’ll change your life.
6. We all get lost some times. Admit it. The greatest danger on the trail is my ego.
There is no greater danger on the trail than ego. Ego tells me not to slow down. Ego says to not stop or listen to others when there’s a fork in the trail. Ego tells me that I don’t have to worry about the weather. If I let it, ego will get me killed.
I like the Daniel Boone story. When a woman asked him if he had ever been lost, he replied "I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for several weeks." In the last few months, I’ve probably said, “I don’t know” more than any time in the past. That simple phrase of acknowledgement lets others know that it’s OK to help me figure it out. When I let go of ego, I allow others to rise up to help. We enjoy the journey more knowing we helped each other get there.
7. Don’t try to conquer the trail. Conquering comes from ego. I hike at a pace that allows me to keep up a conversation.
As a younger hiker, I used to think the peak was the point. Now that I’m older and my legs and lungs have arguments over who is going to give out first, I’ve noticed something. I enjoy the journey a lot more.
8. Be here now. Looking too far ahead causes more trips and falls.
As I hike, it’s important that I keep my eyes ahead, but not too far ahead. If I look too far up the trail, I might miss what is right at my feet. In life, I only have this moment - here and now. There may not be another chance to tell the people around me how much I appreciate them.
9. Respect the locals. Marmots need love too.
On the way up to the mountain top, I ran into a not-too-happy critter. He was not pleased to see me that close to “his” mountain. And you know, since he was there first, I respect that.
Sometimes at work I bump up against someone’s territory and they react just like that critter. If I am wise, then I see the conflict as a gift from this person. I honor the gift by understanding what the other person needs, then finding a way to agree.
Oscar Wilde said, “All great ideas are dangerous.” At least they seem dangerous to those who protect the status quo. No matter what trail I take, someone else probably believes it is his or her territory. Honor that.
10. Sometimes I just have to love the mud…and the rain…and the snow.
On the Hollyburn trail I stomped through some serious boot-sucking mud…very serious. It’s the kind of penetrating mountain mud that soaks into my pours and stains my boots. It will be weeks before I get the stains out of my socks. And, it was great!
If I give up as soon as I run into a little mud (or mud slinging), I'm in for a short trip. On mountains, I’ve sloshed through rain, snow, mud…the works. At work, I’ve waded through worse than that.
When the rough stuff comes along, I don’t change my route or change my mind. I’ve learned to love mud.
11. Bugs are. I can’t wish them away. I can’t shoo them away. Be OK with that.
Where I find wet trails like the Hollyburn trail, I find the bugs that love the wet season. There were places on the trail where I could hardly inhale without breathing in a bug. I couldn’t avoid the bugs. I couldn’t make them go away. All I could do was to choose my attitude.
I expect bugs. Every new product has them, and the more technology my project incorporates, the higher the chances that something will break. I’ve learned to be OK with that. If I expect my project to be bug free, then it’s time for me to wake up and smell the “Off.” By anticipating bugs and helping others to have the same expectation, I avoid a lot of emotional baggage.
12. I pack in my own food and water. I take care of my own trash. No one else will do it for me.
When I hike, I wear a fanny pack with some food and two bottles of water, even if I’m going for a quarter of a mile. That way, I’m always prepared. I don’t look to someone else to energize me, motivate me or nourish me. I am self-sustaining, self-rewarding and self-congratulating. If no one else says, “You’re doing great” then say it to myself.
Also, nothing makes me sadder than finding trash along the trail. I often pack out twice what I packed in because I’m busy picking up trash left behind by others. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we all took care of our own trash?
A friend of mine once gave me this mantra, “Trust God. Clean house. Help others.” That makes sense. When I offend someone, and if I am doing anything worth doing I will offend someone, I get to stop and clean it up…right now! The more time between the offense and the clean-up, the more damage it does.
13. Some people will choose not to finish the climb with me. Be OK with that.
There’s not much in life that hurts more than good-byes. I hate to lose teammates. Still, not everyone will share my vision or direction. My trail may not be aligned with someone else’s mission, values, or timing. These people may see another trail that appeals to them. I get to be OK with that. If they choose another trail, I wish them luck and go on.
14. Sometimes the only map I have is my intuition.
Even with a good GPS, it’s still quite possible to go “off map.” Sometimes a trail changes due to avalanches or other interruptions, and sometimes I have no idea where I am on the map. I’ve learned to accept that. In a situation like that I have to depend on my “informed intuition.” I’m not saying that cutting cross country with no landmarks, directions or map is a good idea. I’m just saying, sometimes it happens. When that happens, I’ve found that my instincts are pretty good. The more time I spend in the mountains, the better I get at figuring things out. Practice does not make navigating perfect, but it helps.
15. When I reach the peak, I love the peak experience, but I don’t build a house.
For me, I enjoy nothing more than lingering at the peak after a long hike. The view from the top is unbelievable! I celebrate the peak and remain at the peak long enough to savor the surrounding beauty. That will give me strength for the next hike.
There’s something addictive about sitting on top of a mountain. The air is thinner and fresher. The temperature is almost always a few degrees cooler and yet the sun is quite intense. It is an amazing experience. Reaching the peak is always rewarding and it makes me wish for everyone else to reach the peak.
It’s also important that I remember that this only one peak and there are plenty more peaks to be climbed. Hanging around the peak may be fun, but if I stay too long, I can get caught in the dark.
So, there you have it - 15 lessons the mountain reminded me of today. Enjoy the journey.
Labels: boots, Britsh Columbia, bugs, change, climb, climbing, Cypress Provincial Park, ego, hike, hiking, Hllyburn Peak, kindness, lessons, mountain, mud, peak, teaching, trail, tundra, Vancouver
posted by RFD Blog at
2:36 PM
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3 Comments:
Hey Tony--
I've read your blog for a couple of months. This piece is fantastic! Thanks.
I linked you on my post today and added your site to my blogroll.
http://ofrevelation.blogspot.com/
Excellent article and the climb also reflects life.
I especially liked the comment of being kind to people on your way to the top and they will be kind to you on the way down.
Good stuff.
Great blog, added to daily reading list to check for new posts. Thanks to Bro Tim for steering me here. Super post as well, being an old Indian from the boonies of Maine, you're the type of company we welcome here:)
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