Deadwood - Retreat Reflections

Farthing Downs, 16th January 2025

A chilly grey January day for my retreat this month. A day for staying in the car for much of the time enjoying the vista over the downs towards the London skyline. Reading, praying, meditating, stilling myself, if possible, to hear the Divine voice. But by the afternoon, the sun was beginning to glint its way through the leaden skies, so I ventured out along the freshly seeded field's edge towards Chaldon Church.

My eye was drawn to the sweep of the field and I stepped into the woodland edge to capture the scene, framed by trees. I couldn't find a satisfactory angle, so I prepared to step back onto the field to continue on my way. And then a 'still small voice' in my head said: "Tarry awhile". I've learned to take such promptings seriously. While it could be described as simple and self-generated, thoughts such as this, have a subtly different quality, that I interpret to be from God. I stopped and looked around me. It was no different to any other woodland edge in winter, a mix of tangled branches, strewn with 'Old-Man's Beard' and cloaked with ivy. Nothing of great interest here, or particularly photogenic. A dead branch lay suspended across the living branch of a sapling. Again, nothing out of the ordinary, but I sensed that this was what I was meant to see.

I looked more closely and meditated on the scene. Suspended in the air as it was, the dead branch was rotting slowly, separated from the fungal hyphae and the moisture of the woodland floor that would have speeded the return of its elemental goodness to the woodland soil. The young sapling was bending a little, weighed down by the burden held in the crook of its branches.

I thought about how the old might sometimes hinder the new. About how holding onto a way of doing things that has fulfilled its purpose could hold back the fresh approach that needs to emerge. But also how there is often, perhaps always, something in the old that the new needs, that could nourish its future.

It's not easy for organisations to make this transition, especially if the 'old' is the founder whose inspiration, dedication, blood, sweat and tears are behind our success up to now. However, to remain relevant and fit for the future, any human system will need to refresh and renew if it is to stave off inevitable obsolescence. I'm reminded of the late Charles Handy's Sigmoid Curve Principle.

Handy suggested that all successful human systems plot the course of a sigmoid curve. They have a start up period where a lot of resources are invested with limited initial success before they plot a course of growth upwards as they begin to enjoy the benefits of their early investments, hopefully for a substantial period of time. However, there is an inevitable tailing off period which is a signal that that system is in need of reinvention and the growing of a new curve. The main challenge is that this new curve needs to be initiated at Point A, before the peak of success has been reached rather than Point B, when everything is in decline.

At Point A, resources and motivation are both plentiful, the Founder is giving of their best and the younger ones who can take the organisation into the future are also hopefully present. But this is where the challenge lies. It is too easy for the 'old' to convince themselves and others that: 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it'. They may find themselves saying, 'I can't really trust the 'new' to sustain 'my' success until they fully learn my ways', even though, if they were good scenario planners, they could predict that their ways will not cut mustard in tomorrow's world. And the 'new' can make either of two mistakes: to so revere the old that they don't express their disruptive voices - so needed if the organisation is to successfully reinvent itself. Or they may look disparagingly on the old, seeing them as well beyond their sell-by date, an obstacle to future success and begin to manoeuvre things, politically behind the scenes, plotting their downfall and exit.

Too often the delay in initiating the changes needed at Point A results in arriving at Point B, when morale, motivation and resources are all on the way down. The need for change is urgent and panic measures are resorted to with the old forced by the board into ignominious exits.

It takes humility to plot a different course, one which both honours the past and acts as midwife to the future. The 'old' need the humility to realise that the time has come for them to hand over the baton and that the 'new' will inevitably and necessarily do things differently. The 'new' need the humility to respect the contribution of the 'old' and discern in their advice the timeless wisdom that will help them be the best possible leaders of the future, which may well be mixed in with ideas only relevant for a former time.

And then the old need to step back, to let go. As John the Baptiser said of Jesus, for whose coming he was to prepare the way: 'He must become greater, I must become less' (John 3:30). There is a kind of death involved. The more the 'old' have identified with the role of founder, CEO or Senior Pastor, the more difficult it will be. Wisdom from Jesus this time: 'Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and 'dies', it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.' (John 12:24).

I thought again about that suspended branch rotting slowly, weighing down the new, of how it would enrich many in the forest ecosystem if it really separated from the new and properly 'died'. It's a challenge for all of us as we reach retirement age. But there is a new sigmoid curve to be developed for us too, as mentors and sages (as long as we never think we know it all!) - a new life, a chance to give back, to leave a legacy and enrich the future.

16th January 2025

See: The Empty Raincoat by Charles Handy (1994) Hutchinson for more on the Sigmoid Curve Principle

(All photos taken by the author)