Due to new zoning regulations in our neighbourhood it’s now a paid parking area. And due to a silly clause, I can’t get a permit. So We’ve converted our front garden patch into a parking space for my car.
Even though it’s quite shaded, and every shade loving plant I’ve ever planted has been instantly eaten by slugs, I’ve been reluctant to pave over it. But needs must.
Now there is a beautiful silver birch just outside our garden. I love the colour of the bark.
Unfortunately it sheds a gazillion seeds every day.
They are all over the garden, get inside my house, embed themselves in the fabric cover of our sofa (damn cats). They are everywhere.
And now they are all over my car. Every day my car is covered in these seeds and leaves. They land on the windshield, block the vents, and slip under the hood. An animal could nest in my engine with all the foliage that’s in there.
After cleaning the debris one morning I mumbled to my husband “maybe we should get the council to remove that tree.”
It blocks our solar panels, the debris is in my house all the time (those seeds are everywhere), and it’s a storm hazard. Earlier this year a storm brought down 15 trees in our neighbourhood, and according to my plant app, this tree looks sick.
Then this morning, after finishing a wrap up call with a client and their manager, – side note: two examples of beautiful leadership by the way, such healthy principles – I looked out of the window.
A bunch of blue tits hopping about the tree caught my eye, and I just stopped everything and watched.
Little birds living their lives, taking just what they need, then flitting away.
Instantly I realised that is what I’d be giving up if I actually went ahead with the tree removal.
Birds so cute that I want to hold them and feel how soft their feathers are. Just hold them and admire this beautiful, fragile life. And resist the urge to squeeze. Why do we want to squeeze cute things?
While admiring them I remembered that I’ve seen a woodpecker on this tree.
And last year I got to observe an owl for an hour and a half as it perched on my fence, in the shade of this tree. In the daylight, it chose this spot to hang out. I can still remember how lovely and exciting it felt to watch that owl: filled with awe, holding my breath, keeping quiet, so I wouldn’t frighten it away.
That’s the actual cost: peaceful moments looking at birds. Beauty. Life.
Now what has all this got to do with the leadership stuff I normally write about?
Firstly, the beauty of life is always relevant.
Furthermore, if I only ever wrote about one thing that would be boring.
Secondly, I wonder what our world would be like if more of our leaders considered ALL the costs when making their decisions. I can keep my car free of leaves, but at what cost?
I dream of a world where, at the very minimum, leaders do a final check on their decisions: “we’re going to do X, but at what cost?”
What do you wish leaders in this world would consider?
p.s. This is how much kids TV can brainwash you: I was surprised that I was surprised that a woodpecker isn’t blue. That blue image from the cartoon just forged itself into my brain and settled in as a “fact”. Thanks, Woody, now my husband the twitcher thinks I’m an idiot.
This is part of my Thought Piece Series, where I explore topics related to leadership and provide both answers and questions. My intention is to start meaningful conversations that help us move forward. Want to connect? Click here.