Marking the way (or how I almost got lost in the wilderness this week)

The trail I thought I was following devolved into a dead end of rough rocks and brush.  This was the second time I'd doubled back and evening was fast approaching.

It was on a bit of a whim, on Tuesday afternoon, that I decided to drive down to the Wichita Mountains National Wildlife Refuge.  My session, in Oklahoma City, was the next morning and I had a hankering to see some buffalo.

There was no cell coverage in the park, no one knew I was there, and the trails were terribly marked.  There were moments where I wondered if I was merely following the footpaths of the buffalo instead of making my way to the top of a bluff. 

This is me, before I lost the trail.  Again.

"I'm going to feel so stupid if I have to spend the night out here in the wilderness...and my clients definitely won't be happy either."

I took a deep, steadying breath, retraced my steps, and (eventually) found the right, tiny trail that led me back to my rented minivan.

I wish that someone at the Wilderness Area took the time to mark trail 4. 

Marking the way
I love hiking and I've had the joy of trekking through many gorgeous places here in the USA.  Over miles of trails, there are always moments where you have to take an important turn or make a stream crossing.

Those places are usually marked - sometimes with a cairn, other times with a spray-painted mark on a tree.  It is a signpost to those that come after - this is the way.

It is an act of profound generosity to make the trip better for those that come behind.

And it has me thinking about the proverbial trails we mark (or don't) in our world of work.

I worked with a client once where a long-time employee suddenly died.  She was the keeper of a dozen different processes and had worked there for almost 20 years.  

But she never documented any of her processes for payroll or sending out invoices and, when she died, she left chaos behind - no one knew what to do.

The smartest organizations know the power of documenting their processes so they are replicable, equitable, and aren't dependent on just one person.

But we haven't applied that degree of intention (or documentation) for how we care for people during the inevitable, disruptive life events that will occur.

Sometimes, there is that one manager who is so good - they are a deft touch with people and intuitively know how to show up when it matters most.  

But that legacy isn't helpful if it can't be taught or passed down.  

Much like me, earlier this week, our managers are all too often wandering in the wilderness, just hoping for the best.