Ebb and Flow
So far out, so close in. Over the course of a few hours, the water in front of the house regularly rises and falls more than 10 feet. At one extreme, a wide expanse of beach is exposed. At the other, waves lap at the breakwater. Every morning at the beach house the other week was a revelation. Monotony can impede my productivity. Working in different environments, home, office, Chicago, Detroit, Seattle, coffee house (like now!), or airplane is invigorating. But there needs to be a balance; too much shifting and I have no focus. The tide provides a constant fluctuation, one that needs to be noted before setting out on any kind of beach hike, and also a visual manifestation of relentless larger forces that neither wake nor sleep nor care if they box me in on the other side of the bay. Proximity to tides and mountains shift my staid, prairie-flat mindset. I'm always amazed at how locals assimilate to such dramatic features that I find difficult not to constantly gaze at, including while driving. Two new consulting projects, back in the Midwest, were confirmed during my few days at the beach. I've found myself approaching undertakings differently as I've aged, less "what can be done," and more "what can be done now." My Foresight colleague and I recently had a passionate conversation, as we sometimes do, about where we conceptually meet and subsequently take our clients. I am often too far ahead of them by her estimation. And she is, by my reckoning, sometimes too attached to the current status quo. So far out, or close in, or somewhere in between; ultimately it is something larger than us that will determine the outcomes.
