I was preparing to give a speech to young adults recently at the Innovation Center associated with our local college. In doing so, I reviewed some of the presentations that had been made by others. The theme of the day seemed to be “disruption.”
Yes, I’ve read the salient books on the topic, and I recognize that disruption can be beneficial to a company’s success, especially with technology and systems innovation. I do believe in change. But as I pondered disruption and what I might present to these young people that would have lasting meaning, I kept thinking of my grandpa and his woodworking shop.
My grandfather lived a stone’s throw away from me while I was growing up. An immigrant from Switzerland, he had a very distinct German accent with a Scandinavian look and peaceful demeanor. But I remember he would nervously tap the fingers of his gnarled hands at the dinner table — he often ate dinner in our home. My grandma passed early in their marriage and Grandpa was alone for many years. He was generally at peace, but had a tinge of anxiety. I think he was lonelier than I realized at the time.
He arrived in the U.S. before World War I and lived through the Depression. He and Grandma lost three boys under the age of 4 in a house fire, and sent the three boys that followed off to World War II. They lived through hard times and became examples of resilience with a quiet and enduring faith. Nothing could have prepared them for the years of hardship they endured. They just put one foot in front of the other, loved each other, put faith in Providence, and let the chips fall where they may. They were always sustained in their travels and travails.
When I was a boy, I would often wander over to visit my widowed grandpa. He spent a lot of time in his rose garden and wood shop. Next to his rose garden, which was interwoven with his fabulous rock garden, we would sit under a giant pine tree in lawn chairs. There he would give me a wild cherry Life Saver candy, and we would chat. I don’t remember the substance of the conversations, just that I felt safe and at peace sitting next to him. I loved the smell of those wild cherry Life Savers amidst the scent of roses.
Often our time together would include a visit to his small wood shop. We would take trips to the foothills from time to time as he walked for miles to find the perfect cedar trees for carving. He made tables and lamps from the aged cedar. With homemade tools, he carved out the canyons and ridges of the twisted cedar trees. Carving, sanding, sawing, filling in beetle holes and finally staining his final products. They were almost always gifts for others.
This was a passion for him, not to sustain him monetarily, but to toil for the joy of another person who would receive the gift. Think of the hours he spent thinking of that person or the family who would be blessed by a table or lamp, which would be as unique as they were, while he shaped the wood into its final form. No two were alike — not the finished product or the people who received Grandpa’s gifts.
As he carved and sanded, I would be invited to grab a tool as he put his hands on mine to shape the wood. The smell of cedar in my nose was delightful, and I didn’t want to clean up sometimes because I just loved the scent of his workshop on my clothes. The scents wouldn’t last forever, but the lessons in the wood shop and beneath the tree and hiking in the foothills would stay with me forever. Those lessons don’t dissipate with time, nor can they be washed out of the soul.
In one presentation I viewed, I watched the CEO of perhaps the most successful emerging business in southern Utah tell the audience that his company’s success was more about the team and their values and relationships than the innovations of products and systems. That was refreshing. He gets it. One student in the class asked the CEO if the business implemented Six Sigma stuff. He didn’t know what that was, so he pivoted and talked about the value of trust and developing long-term relationships. Good on him. There is a reason his business is listed in the top 5,000 successful companies in the world.
Please don’t misunderstand my message. I do believe in innovation, technology, artificial intelligence and even disruption. They all have their place. But underpinning all of that should be the values and relationships of the teams involved in the company’s success.
My message to the class will be this: Amid our changing world, remember the lessons from the past. The hands, the mentors, who guide the carvings, the smell of hard work, the time beneath the tree visiting with a lonely soul and the walks in the wilderness searching for the gems that will emerge from their common existence into a life of beauty and meaning. And of course, savor the smell of cedar dust and the taste of wild cherry Life Savers.
Maybe regarding “disruption,” we need to give a little more attention to disrupting the present rather than the past.
Steve Hitz is a co-founder of Launching Leaders Worldwide, a nonprofit that provides young adults in more than 86 countries with tools for personal leadership and faith. He is the author of “Launching Leaders: An Empowering Journey for a New Generation” and “Entrepreneurial Foundations for Twenty and Thirty Somethings,” available at Deseret Book or Amazon.