Mountains move slowly

Last week, my family and I returned from a road trip to the western states of this huge and beautiful country. It was filled with beauty, wonder, diversity, and a lush abundance of nature.

Even though it was challenging to spend far too many hours driving, I came home with lots of optimism and was happy to have given some interesting experiences and viewpoints to my children.

I was really struck by Dinosaur National Monument and Great Basin National Park, because both places so vividly showed me that time is relative. In both parks, it was easy to observe that what we easily take for granted these days has evolved so much.

What seems so permanent has undergone gigantic transformations over time: mountains moved, water and ice shifted, plants and animals came and went.

Looking at and touching a wall of dinosaur bones, imagining how these creatures were roaming a lush and abundant environment that supported them about 65 million years ago, is not something I usually do, but it created a calming perspective.

Seeing the resemblance of the bones to the structure of the hominin body made me appreciate all the experiences and adventures our ancestors had. They shaped the nervous system, feelings, and body that allow me to experience and navigate this very moment of life.

And of course, it made me think about what my world and our contribution to the next 65 million years will be like. When some of our bodies might end up on a wall of petrified bones? And how will our experiences and challenges shape evolution? I find it calming to think about how small this moment actually is.

Now that I am at my desk again, time spans are smaller. I am thinking about the next hour, the next day, and the next month, seeing deadlines and goals.

But I have the reminder with me: over the long term, what matters most is direction, adaptation, and resilience.

Reflection of the Day

Whether for your own life or your own business, what time scale could you look at that gives you a fresh but relevant perspective?

With care,

Martin