Long-Term Investment

January 25, 2012

Many homes have just removed the decorations from their holiday trees and removed the bare, brittle tree from their house. This has caused me to reflect on a drive last fall through many miles of tree farms, observing some trees ready for harvest but many more trees that were many years away from cutting.

During that drive I thought about the character of those who had planted the trees.  This is not like many crops which are planted in spring and provide a return on the investment by fall.  One who plants trees knows the harvest is many years of growth and pruning away. That return on investment could be a decade or two of toil down the road.

As I questioned how these farmers could wait so long, I began to marvel at the optimistic, patient spirit they must have.  Their hope and persistence.  Their assurance that the time and money invested now will be rewarded later.

This humbling internal dialogue caused me to think of dedicated teachers, coaches and administrators who, metaphorically, are planting some trees and pruning others each and every school year, knowing they may never personally see the results.  But having confidence that, in time, there will be a return on the investment they and their communities have made in our young people.

Swimming Lessons

January 19, 2016

I found a place between Christmas and New Year’s Day that was out of Internet reach. For four days and three nights I spent most of the days in the water looking downward into an ocean of coral canyons surrounded by swarms of colorful fish, and much of the nights on the open deck of a catamaran looking up at a nearly full moon moving between stars and swirling clouds. Here is some of what I learned from experiences, rather than from Google, on those days.

First, flying fish really do fly, on average, about the length of a football field.

Second, sea urchins have an edible element, if the spiny critters are smoked in a fire of coconuts and palm fronds and then soaked in saltwater, and if you are either desperately marooned on some remote island or just trying to be nice to the local residents you just met who believe the urchin's slimy, salty core is a delicacy that hospitality requires be shared and graciousness demands be appreciated.

And, more relevant to the work we share that I tried unsuccessfully to tune out for these four days, I learned ...

What you see in the ocean is distorted until you put on your goggles and get beneath the surface of the water. Getting beneath the surface of things is necessary for clear vision.

What you see first is likely to be the flashy fish, while the greater significance is observed more slowly in what appears to be their inanimate habitats, which turn out to be alive with movement if you wait and watch for it. Patience is necessary for clear vision.

The wavy six-inch line of purple coral was really the lips of a large clam that actually separate a fraction of an inch every minute or so to take in the nourishment of the sea. The brown stump below it was really a sea cucumber that actually moves an inch or two a day to vacuum the ocean floor. I saw none of this until I got beneath the surface, and waited.