Leadership as Orienting and Path-Finding

I have always been someone who is fascinated by the trails around me—often abandoned—and orienting myself in space. I grew up on a railroad track and remember at a young age, taking a lunch and following the track as far as I could. I believe I dragged a friend along who possibly did not share my passion. I am forever grateful that my parents did not discourage me from following the railroad track, nor put any fear into me. They knew I would come home once my curiosity was quenched for the time.

In graduate school I took a five-week archeology field course on a bluff above the Minnesota River, excavating a Native American village. After digging test pits to locate the village, and spending several weeks shoveling and sifting, several of us set off over our lunch break to search for the river. I needed to get oriented in space! We proceeded to get lost—really lost. Finally, one of us climbed into a tree to get a better sense of direction. By mid-afternoon we had found our way back to the dig site to the inquisitive looks of our fellow students. While lost we had found the river, the rapids, an old Swedish farmstead, the slough, and the cane breaks and figured out their relationship to each other. Several days later, the professor asked us—the explorers—to find the site of the fur trading post associated with the village. The three of us immediately walked to a spot about one-quarter mile away and dug a test pit and hit pay dirt. How did we know? To this day I cannot tell you. All I can tell you is that we had developed a sense of the place and its relationships. We knew the Blue Heron in the slough, the turtle on the rock each morning when we passed, the large glacial erratic, the land itself. 

Upon reflection, this pattern of path-finding has never ended. I have been lost more than once.  

For the past few years I have known of a track of forest between my condo development and the local high school. When the condo units were developed, we were required to extend a sidewalk to this woodland and one of my neighbors told me that there is a path at the end of this sidewalk that extends through the woods to the high school athletic field. The sidewalk had become a beacon calling my pathfinding desires.

I tried the path once, got to the athletic field, but got lost on the way back because leaves so deeply covered the path. The woodland is not so large that this is a problem, but this meant I did not want to take my granddaughter into the woods yet or recommend it to anyone else. This was clearly going to take more work. And the path kept calling me.

I solicited help on our condo Facebook page with mixed results. Finding fellow path-finders is not always easy. But I just kept looking at that sidewalk that ended at the forest…it was calling me.

I eventually found one kindred spirit who took out a blower and started to uncover the trail which ended up being several trails that went way beyond the athletic field. I would then go out and walk the trail several times to make sure I was oriented and then put markers on the trees to help others identify the route. I tracked my route on my phone and used it to draw a map I could share. We identified the main trail, the side trails, and the north extension. And as we uncovered it, we found bridges in place, branches laid down to mark the sides of the trail, and logs that had been cut through where trees had fallen across the path. Someone had nurtured this path in the past.

I have taken others with me now, to follow the path through the woods, showing them the markers that show the way. We will continue to find ways to maintain and improve the pathway so that everyone can enjoy it safely.

I am a geographer so it is no surprise that I am drawn to exploring paths “at the end of the sidewalks.” But these are not the only paths I have followed. Path-finding as an organizational leader has had parallels with my journey to establish and recover the trails in the forest. I start with curiosity about the opportunity beyond the sidewalk that leads into the woods. I ask around about the experiences of others who have gone into the woods. I take a first wayfaring step into the forest and become disoriented. I find others with complementary skills who are also curious, who help us uncover the pathways, long forgotten. We together excavate the past with a vision for the future and a particular audience. We establish markers and draw the map to help others orient themselves who are not quite as curious as we are, providing some sense of safety. We invite them to join us on a walk so that they can become comfortable with the route. We maintain and use the path so that it becomes well known. And we celebrate the wonderful gift that was just beyond the end of the sidewalk.

I have heard a rumor that there is also a path that goes in the opposite direction…