Adapting to Complexity

Last December, our oldest son gave my wife a hiking trip in Arizona for her birthday. Once we coordinated schedules and settled on doing this trip in late May, I went deep into planning mode.

First, I created an initial gear list that she and I would need. Referencing back to my major hiking days in the 70’s, I began collecting all sorts of stuff from the attic. Finally, having not hiked in the southwest since my college years, I asked my oldest son for help. His list included some things that I was not thinking about such as nylon hiking pants, a very wide brimmed hat to keep the sun off my bald head and tender, fair skinned ear tips, and under-armor t-shirts. We also borrowed gear from our younger son who had recently worked in the back country in the southwest for six months as an Americorp volunteer. This included a dromedary with hose and mouth piece for carrying water.

Second, I started preparing my body and my mind. Every day all winter long, I walked very fast for 30 minutes, seeking out all the hills in our small town.  Given I grew up in an outdoors focused family with scouting roots, lots of summer camp hiking, and being a former back packing leader in the 70’s, I knew this trip could be challenging. Therefore, I was a bit apprehensive about the physical challenge that could surface when hiking in the southwest at 8,000 foot elevation.

Once we arrived in late May, and transitioned to the higher altitude in Flagstaff, AZ for 24 hours, we started to pack out for the trip. As I pulled out my 70’s based gear, my oldest son frequently gave me the “don’t bring that” head shakes. I trusted his opinion given he had been actively involved in outdoor work for many years in the southwest. Nevertheless, I started to feel not very confident, competent, or current as we started off on this multiple day back packing trip.

On the first night of our camping trip, I felt like an 11 year old, Tenderfoot Boy Scout all over again. I couldn’t set up our tent right without help and instruction. I did not know how the stove worked and I did not know what was coming up next. I didn’t even know how to pack the high quality, expedition backpack that my son had borrowed from a friend of his for me.

Still, with his assistance and patient teaching, my wife and I made it through the first night. Our son and his amazing girl friend created some spectacular meals on the trail such as pesto and fresh veggies over noodles, red curry with sweet potatoes, and fresh veggies, mac and cheese with red wine plus desserts like scrambled brownies, jello cheese cake, chocolate nut bars etc.

Meanwhile, I started from the very beginning and learned how to pack my own back pack all over again. While I was not confident, competent, or current, I was trainable. I slowly connected the dots around the terminology of “cannon balls”, i.e. heavy stuff, and “fluffy stuff”, i.e. light things, when packing my pack. When I did get my expedition sized back pack to stand up on it’s own, I was elated.

On our first day on the trail, I tried hiking with with trekking poles because they were supposed to reduce the shock on my older knees as we hiked down into a nearby canyon. Beside making so much noise with the poles clicking and clacking over rocks and the like, I felt totally awkward and uncomfortable. I was afraid I might trip over the poles that were suppose to be helping. In the end, I skipped the poles and hoped my knees would handle the stress. I realized that I was close to overload on new stuff and the hiking poles were just a hinderance more than a help.

The second night on the trail my wife and I set up our own tent and I realized again the power of a short term win.  For a brief moment, I felt invincible, and regained a bit of confidence. 

On the third day, I finally started to get the daily rhythm of hiking and setting up camp. The following morning I even figured out how to use the hiking stove and heat up water for the tea.  

We hiked out the fourth morning and upon reflection, I had learned some very important lessons. First, small and/or large shifts in environment, i.e. context, can dramatically undercut the capacity and confidence of the followers. As a follower on this trip, I started from a place of limited ability to fully understand and assess the right path or choices. I also kept second guessing myself and assuming I was making the wrong choices. It also was hard to figure out what I needed because I was not sure and did not have many reference points for this kind of journey. I realized that I was not current with the new technology and modern way of moving through this landscape. I had to unlearn my 60’s/70’s way of camping and hiking, and instead embrace a more modern way of doing things. That was much easier said than done.

Second, without a safety zone and a patient teacher/leader in my son and his girl friend, I often ended up becoming a watcher, overwhelmed by too much external stimulus and information. While the environmental shift to camping in the southwest was normal for my son and his girl friend, it was complex for my wife and I. We had our own physical and mental challenges, e.g. we really did not know what was going to happen next on the trail, and we had to completely trust our experienced son and his girl friend to guide us along the way. We had to take “baby steps” to move through the world of constant change.

Third, moving from one level of effective action to a new level of effectiveness requires tremendous faith in one’s self on the part of the follower, plus faith in the leader and faith in the journey to a new level of competency. This journey  also came with more than a few “ego bruises” along the way. True unlearning and relearning is not easy.

There is an old hiking prayer that goes as follows: “Lord, if you lift them up [i.e. my feet], I will put them down in the right place.” It was not just the lifting them up but also having no idea where we were going other than a name on a map that was challenging. It took me quite some time to connect with interpreting a USGS map again and to translate it into what it means in actuality.

Thankfully each step of the way we had a kind and patience pair of people helping my wife and I along the way.  Their leadership made all the difference between a good trip and a great trip.

Geery Howe, M.A. Consultant, Executive Coach, Trainer in Leadership, Strategic Planning and Organizational Change Morning Star Associates 319 - 643 - 2257

Matching Talent With Opportunity

September was my favorite month of the year because after all of the different Boy Scout summer camps we went to as a troop, Monday nights was when we would start again on our regular Scout Meetings.  Here, we would have knot tying relays or learn how to identify trees by their leaves or bark. Some days we would learn how to make plaster of paris molds of paw prints found in the mud or sand nearby where we meet as a troop.

One of my favorite weekly skill building sessions was on the subject of hiking and camping. This was the late 60’s and early 70’s when all sorts of revolutionary new equipment was coming into use. First, we learned about nylon back packs with external frames plus hip belts. This was a vast improvement over our canvas packs which dug into our shoulders once loaded.  

Next, we learned about how to wear and buy mountaineering style, vibram soled hiking boots from Europe. Designed for hiking in the Alps, these boots were all leather, tough and offered incredible ankle support. I remember my first pair that I ever owned. Given I have big feet, they were huge. They also were very heavy in weight. They may have been perfect for the Alps but not so practical for hiking in state parks outside Philadelphia. 

Third, we learned about new innovations in camp stoves. Having always cooked over a fire, the arrival of various new camp stoves was very exciting.  Some required bulky propane canisters and others used kerosene. The newest and fanciest ones at the time used white gas. Once we learned about all the different types, we had a contest to see which hiking stove could boil a cup of water the fastest. The stove which used white gas won the contest but it worked like a blow torch and probably would have melted the pot too once the water had boiled away.

However, the biggest event during Monday night Scout meetings was the annual fire building contest. My father, the Scout Master, would drive two stakes in the ground and then tie a piece of string from one stake to the next at the height of his belt buckle. Then every patrol was given one log, one axe, one hatchet and one strike any where match. The goal was to split the log into small enough pieces using the axe and the hatchet and then build a fire that would burn high enough to burn through the string.  The first patrol to do this got bragging rights for an entire year and would be known as the best fire starters in the troop.  It was a big honor that every patrol wanted to have. 

As a patrol leader of the newly formed Intrepid Patrol, an assorted collection of all of the new scouts which did not get absorbed into the other patrols, our first year was a disaster. We were still trying to split the log and build the fire when others burned through the string. Our second year was not much better because we were arguing and interrupting each other instead of listening and working together. 

After the second mess up, we were determined to win during our third year. Every month when we went camping, we would practice.  Sun or rain, in the forest or on the beach, we tried over and over. Our goal was to start strong and then blow away the competition.

Over time, we learned a lot about each other and our patrol. Through multiple "false starts" over many camping trips, we realized that John was good with an ax and could split a log in half very well. He was a junior Davie Crockett. Charlie, on the other hand, loved the hatchet and could bust split wood into very small pieces very fast. Charlie was He-man the Barbarian. Now, Peter was good with a knife and could make a "fuzz stick" in no time flat.  He was the only Scout I ever knew with his own switch blade. And I, being the son of a landscape architect and site engineer, was good at building, lighting and feeding the fire. After a lot of practice, we blew out the competition the third year and won many subsequent years.

The keys to our success in the fire building competition look simple from the outside, but required a ton of work. First, we had to clarify the different roles and make sure we matched them with the right person who was skilled in that particular area. Second, we had to support each other and work as a team rather than argue and criticize each other. Third, we practiced once a month and had to figure out what actually worked well given our skills and talents.  It did not happen all at once, but with discipline and practice it came together over time. 

This summer I wish more groups would recognize that matching talent with opportunity takes time, focus and discipline. It will not happen all at once but the effort is worth the result once it happens. If during the process you learn how to build a good campfire, I suggest you celebrate this accomplishment with some tasty s’mores.

Geery Howe, M.A. Consultant, Executive Coach, Trainer in Leadership, Strategic Planning and Organizational Change Morning Star Associates 319 - 643 - 2257