Imagine this:
Its 500,000 years ago.
And it’s raining, hard, on an undulating limestone landscape that stretches out ahead of you before terminating at the foot of a dramatic mountain range at the edge of the horizon.
Season by season the rains come and go.
And as they do, something imperceptible—but transformative—is happening.
As the rain falls, each drop, in search of somewhere to go, traces a path down the sloping hills before pooling in the nearest low point.
As it travels, it takes with it a souvenir of its journey: A grain or two of sediment from the limestone over (and through) which it’s traveled.
Drop by drop, this process continues—each square meter being pelted millions of times per hour in a heavy downpour.
Slowly, and then quickly, the drops begin to converge around the faint etchings carved out by previous drops.
And drop by drop, those etches widen into grooves, attracting more ever more water.
Years pass.
When the rain is not falling, some grooves make the perfect thoroughfare for small rodents and other creatures.
They too begin to leave their mark.
Decades pass.
The micro highways through the landscape are widened as they become suitable for larger constituents of the environment.
First fox, then coyote, then deer.
Centuries pass, then millennia.
And one day, unbeknownst to you, you find yourself walking down that same path.
A path that exists, not because it’s the most efficient path to where you’re looking to go. But because a single raindrop etched a near-insignificant groove in the landscape 500,000 years ago that other raindrops (perhaps by chance) happened to follow.
There are numerous paths each of us is walking (and thus widening) at any given moment.
From our larger life paths to the paths we’re following to build our businesses, grow our audiences, or get through our days.
Every so often, however, it’s worth pausing and asking ourselves:
Are we on these paths because they’re the most direct or efficient routes to our end destination?
Or have we simply been funneled toward them by forces beyond our perception?
In many, perhaps most cases, our answer will be the latter.
Which leaves us with a second question:
If a single raindrop can alter a landscape forever by charting a new course for itself, what might you be able do?
Explore how to navigate a creative life that matters
This article originally appeared in my weekly Creative Wayfinding Newsletter. Each issue is the product of a week of work, and contains something not available for sale.
A fresh perspective, a shot of encouragement when you need it most, and maybe even some genuine wisdom from time to time.
Each week, we explore a different facet of the question “How do we navigate the wilds of creating work that matters?”
It’s something I’m proud to create and I’d be honoured to share it with you.
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