Excerpt



Years ago, my ideal vacation would have been found pool-side: comfort at my beck and call, hot showers, cold drinks, a suitcase filled with resort wear, and stacks of books on hand to read.

Hah! The fates had not warned me that I would fall in love with a man who would stick his nose in the calendar in January, point to a two-week time frame in mid-summer, confirm the phase of the moon (waxing) and announce his intent to apply for a wilderness permit. In my naiveté, “wilderness” meant back roads, drive-in restaurants, or getting lost and having to ask directions. But to Bill it was the vast 150 million year-old Sierra Nevada range running down the spine of California.

And so we went. Again and again.

In the course of our double-digit marriage, I’ve done my best to hang in there. Little would my clients and audiences guess this high-heeled speaker in corporate attire could emerge from Sierra Mountain passes, alpine meadows, ice fields, horrific storms, and below freezing temperatures with two weeks worth of grime, assorted cuts, bruises and bites, matted hair, swollen eyelids (altitude and sun always do it to me), and a strange mixture of unabashed relief and pride.

And then the inevitable happened. The children left home. This was the summer Bill and I would make our first ever twosome ascent into the Sierras.

No problem…except for the fact that with at least three people, the weight of equipment can be equally shared. No problem…except that I’m small and my backpack limit is about 35-40 pounds, but this time I’ll need to carry more.

As we struggled over boulder-strewn fields, trudged up unmarked mountain passes at 12,000 plus feet, sidestepped across ice fields, watched 65 mph winds pick up a tent and soar it across granite towers, guzzled our last drop of water, praying we’d last until Coldwater Creek, I figured there HAD to be a reason behind this most difficult of trips. Perhaps this backpacking trek was in my life for a purpose.

So I began to pay attention, to see and hear with new eyes and ears. Surely this mountain had lessons to teach me, to force me to slow down and learn more by noticing more.

Who would ever have thought there’d be gifts in grime, grit, and grace-filled mornings? I found lessons for business, for relationships, for family, for life, and for my soul. It is my hope these lessons find a home in your world as well.

Life is complicated and complex. We yearn for simple answers and want them in sound bites, in small passages potent in message and meaning. This book seeks to answer that need. In many ways, it will remind you of what you already know but have forgotten in the tension of time constraints, work worries, and family frustrations. Some passages will jar your memory while others might evoke a new awareness and result in action.

You, too, have your own mountain. There’s always a challenge that demands your attention or a complication looking for simplification. Whether your complex world is the boardroom or bedroom, there are insights for the taking. May I invite you to read while thinking of the places we all trek on a daily basis: those places where we climb the corporate ladder, scale the next problem, surmount the competition; those places where we forge streams filled with relationships and pack bags crammed with “stuff”; those places where we think our journey belongs only to ourselves and cast blind eye and deaf ear to the other people along our trails; and lastly, those places which refresh and renew us for the next climb, the next assault, the next mountain.

Open to any page. You don’t have to read in sequential order. Ask yourself how a simple truth can be extended as a tool in your life. If you so choose, pose the statement to your work team, to your family, to your organization. Listen. Their responses might turn a mountain into a molehill.

Come take a hike and discover your own footnotes for walking through life. There is so much wisdom, hidden in plain view. Pause, look with new eyes, and discover simple truths that can unravel and make sense of many of life’s complexities.