Facing the Canopy as Business Owners

I was walking in the forest this morning when I came across a sign about the forest canopy. It explained how the canopy is always in flux: trees die, storms knock them over, and new gaps open in the cover above. Those gaps are then colonised by seedlings that had been waiting in the shadows, now competing for the light. A few saplings make it through, growing into new trees that eventually rebuild the canopy.

It struck me that this is more than just how forests grow, it’s how our businesses evolve, especially in these unstable and uncertain times. And right now, many of us are standing in the middle of storms.

When the Canopy Breaks

Over the past few months, the economy has been difficult. Some industries have gone quiet, and others are holding on white-knuckled for signs of revival. In my own business, I’ve seen entire “trees” fall: offerings that once stood tall and strong, suddenly uprooted by forces beyond my control.

Having worked in the manufacturing world for decades, I know how large organisations often treat the world as “complicated.” They operate on the assumption that if you build enough structure, size, and process, you can control uncertainty. In many cases, sheer organisational weight creates a buffer against storms.

But small and medium-sized businesses like mine live in another reality. Here, fluctuations in the global economy, political shifts, and even geopolitical tensions hit much closer to home. When storms hit, they don’t just take down an abstract “tree”, they can threaten the very identity of the business, the livelihoods of staff, and the wellbeing of owners.

Grieving and Nurturing at the Same Time

It would be comforting to tell the story that storms always bring opportunity. That every fallen tree is a gift that creates space for renewal. And yes, sometimes that’s true, but it’s not the whole story.

The truth is, when a tree falls, we lose something. When a product line collapses, or a market dries up, or trusted revenue streams vanish overnight, the first reality is loss. And for smaller businesses, that loss is often deeply personal. Owners and teams feel the weight of it not just in numbers, but in the day-to-day stress, uncertainty, and the emotional strain of holding things together.

So before rushing into the growth narrative, we must acknowledge the grief. The storm takes its toll. Pretending otherwise only disconnects us from reality.

And yet, alongside that grief, seedlings do appear. New ideas, small experiments, untested possibilities begin to push upward in the gaps. They need attention, time, and nurturing. Unlike a forest, though, these saplings don’t grow on their own. In business, growth requires deliberate commitment, resources, and energy, all while maintaining the existing “trees” that still hold part of the canopy.

It is both: grieving what was lost and tending to what might emerge.

The Challenge of Our Times

The current trends in the world (economic uncertainty, political turbulence, global interconnection and disconnection) are difficult to anticipate. Simply reacting to events as they happen is not a strategy. But neither is clinging to the illusion of control, as I’ve seen in large manufacturing organisations.

For smaller businesses, the path lies in something deeper: connecting to our identity. Every forest is different, some dense and interwoven, some sparse but resilient. The same is true of businesses. We must know what type of “forest” we are, what values sustain us, and what vision guides us. Without that alignment, storms can scatter us in every direction.

Commitment in the Canopy

If there is one thing the forest teaches us, it’s that growth is a long game. New saplings don’t replace fallen trees overnight. In business, too, nurturing seedlings and saplings requires extensive commitment. It means testing multiple paths while still caring for what remains. It means creating alignment across the team so energy isn’t wasted on conflicting visions. And it means returning again and again to the values that define why the business exists in the first place.

Storms will come, some mild, some devastating. The canopy will break, and gaps will open. What matters is not pretending those storms are blessings, but facing them honestly: grieving the losses, tending the new growth, and holding fast to the forest we are becoming.

I’d love to hear from other business owners: when the storms have come for you, how have you balanced grieving what was lost with nurturing the seedlings of what could be?