Prometheus brought us the gift of fire, but what was fire if not the beating heart of the gods? It is the crimson flame that drives us forward. It is the destroyer that brings life. Forests die not because of fire, but because we prevent fires where they should by all rights occur. Nature relies on the cycle of destruction and rebirth and has since time beyond thought. But fire must be controlled, and therein lies the dichotomy.
Autumn has always held a special place in our collective consciousness. If Winter symbolizes rest, Spring rebirth, and Summer the joy of youth, then Autumn represents peace and reflection- a time when we set aside the worries and cares of the rest of the year, and simply enjoy nature in all her glory. Trees burst into leafy flames of orange and burnt umber, and even the skies take on a cerulean glow. Walk outside on any given Autumn night, and you can almost hear our primal ancestors chanting around the red-gold sparks of a tribal hardwood fire.
If you’ve ever lived in a coastal town, you’ve no doubt taken part in a tribal ritual passed down from our forebearers from time immemorial: the driftwood bonfire. Every few years an especially large store will come along, and the next morning the shoreline is festooned with driftwood, sprawled in piles like the remains of some arboreal crime scene.
Toward dusk, the inhabitants of the area will, of one accord, wind out of their modern caves, and gather on the sand. Driftwood is gathered and arranged into pyres. A match is lit. We sit, much like our primate ancestors, and drive back the darkness with the magic Prometheus gave us, while reflections of the flames dance brightly in our eyes.
For a moment, there are no iPhones. Twitter doesn’t exist. All of the problems faced by our species can be solved with a flint knife and perhaps a few marshmallows for toasting. Then, as the fire collapses into embers, we brush off the sand, travel back to our caves, and for a moment, however brief, we wonder if we might have been better if our ten-thousand-times-great grandparents had never left the beach.
Where you work has just as much impact on your life as where you live. For many of us, they are one and the same. For a man to achieve his highest level of performance, he must create a space that represents the world that he is working to create for himself and his family. This space can be physical- the walls, doors, ceilings, and floors that confine us- or this space can be mental and spiritual. The difference is that one space confines you, and the other sets you free.
A leader doesn’t defy the wind, or blame the wind for pushing him off course. A leader doesn’t blame those around him for the way the wind blows. But most of all, a leader doesn’t allow the wind to decide his direction. Instead, they understand the wind, embrace it, and know how to use it to arrive at their chosen destination.
A boat can sail against the wind by slightly tilting its sails in a direction ahead of the vector of the sail. Birds fly against the wind not by beating their wings more furiously, but by cutting across the eddies and currents of the sky. A leader, like a boat or a bird, must understand that the wind is never against them, although they may occasionally need to tack against it when the journey so demands.