There’s a rock
Lodged in a hole.
At the base of a big,
Green,
Tree.
I have run past it hundreds of times,
Maybe more.
I wonder
What’s behind it?
Today I stop. Stoop. Grab hold of it.
Mossy. Slippery. Wet.
I tug, heaving, careful of my
Back against the strain
It comes free.
Now, at last,
I can see
Down the hole.
And I’m proud of myself for having stopped,
When I could have kept on running.
I am walking one of my favourite trails in Vancouver. It weaves along the bluffs of Spanish Banks, before either dipping down to the sea of veering south toward the university campus. On this particular day, in early September, I am strolling. When I walk, especially in nature, ideas come to me that would not ordinarily arrive, and I am always delighted when a certain breeze or vista offers up the gift of a metaphor and carries me away. Today it is a tree, an odd slender cedar with a tenacious urge to see the sun. The tree has bent itself over, growing parallel to the ground, before pushing itself upright again, some 8 feet later. The s-curve makes something of bench for those inclined to seize the moment and take a seat. Despite having walked by this particular tree many times, today it encourages me to think about how we are all seeking the light; literally, as a necessary life force, but also figuratively, in our lives, with our families, and in our organizations. I began to wonder about the ways I have contorted my own life, working my way around things, over things, and through things in search of my sky. I think all of us are searching for the sun light of our true nature and that search takes us and shapes us in all sorts of ways- good and bad. I carried on along the trail, reflecting on the work I do as a coach, and how so much of it is about helping people determine and head for their own light. And I was comforted by the idea that, like the tree, even our most twisted turns, can be beautiful.
What is the light you seek?
What warms your heart and brightens your world?
What new and unexpected shapes are you willing to take on?
Who or what stands in your way?
She might be an older friend, or a big sister and shes barking out orders with unquestionable authority to Victoria, a smaller girl clutching the flimsy handle of a plastic bucket. “Hurry! Run!” she 
yells, pointing toward the low lying sea, about 100 yards off, “Hurry, or they’ll die! And come back as fast as you can!” Victoria turns abruptly, pivoting her bare heel in the damp sand, and sets off, with earnest effort toward the shoreline. She’s saving crabs, little ones. They have become trapped in a swiftly shrinking tide puddle. The older girl hangs back, suddenly alone with herself, under the hot sun with all these little crabs and a huge job ahead of her.
The pool has been steadily warming as it evaporates in the mid day sun and she’s worried the water will either get too hot or disappear altogether. Crab Bisque, I think to myself, as I watch her. “Hurry up!” she screams again, remembering time is running out and there’s work to be done. “Come on! Run!” she yells but her voice is swept from her mouth and carried away on the rippling airwaves. Victoria can’t hear her.
Far away now, I can see her small bent-over form, she’s tipping the bucket and I sense the relief welling up inside her. Because she’s done it, she’s saved them. Later, as I’m walking back through the tall grass, jumping drift wood and wondering where the actual path is that will take me past the BBQ pit and on up to the parking lot, I realize these girls have got what it takes to make a difference in the world: vision, passion, and something worth fighting for. It’s been a good day for all of us.