A weekly thought for leaders with the courage to introspect.ย
An oak tree and a chainsaw
I was about twelve years old when my father gave me an assignment:
Saw down an oak tree.
With a chainsaw.
I know. Not exactly a childhood under a cheese dome.
My father had a forest. And in that forest stood an oak tree.
That oak had to go.
So off I went. With a big chainsaw, riding a tractor through the forest.
Looking for that one tree.
When I stood before him, I knew for sure:
I can't do this.
The tree was gigantic.
The chainsaw is heavy, dangerous and loud.
My arms went numb. My head full of doubt.
I sat down. On a branch. Or a rock. I don't remember.
And I waited. For my father to come and see.
He did so too.
He looked.
And sat down.
Silently.
Then he asked me two questions.
โDo you want to learn it?โ
Interesting question.
I thought about it.
Because 'no' was also an option.
But I said, โYes.โ
Then he asked:
โAre you willing to experience the discomfort?โ
He didn't say that literally.
He asked, โEven if you get a scrape? Or a hole in your head?โ
In other words: Do you want this even if it hurts?
I thought again.
And I said again, โYes.โ
Then he taught me how to do it.
โก๏ธ First a stake: the target spot of the falling tree.
โก๏ธ Then: use the saw low and at an angle โ make two cuts, so that you get a triangle.
โก๏ธ Then: reposition. Check. Are we still in the right place?
Only then do you make the final, horizontal cut.
Like cutting a cake.
What I learned then, I still use every day.
Whether you have to cut down a tree,
want to master a skill,
or conquer a new fieldโฆ
there are always two questions you should ask yourself:
Do I really want to learn it?
Am I willing to endure the discomfort?
If the answer to both questions is a resounding yes,
then all you have to do is execute it.
Then you are ready!
—
The space between the words is where insight arises.
Until next week when our thoughts touch again.
Hans Ruinemans
The Boardroom Monk โฏ๏ธ