Holding On in Turbulent Times

When I look across the forest canopy today, I see a landscape in flux. Some trees still stand tall and steady, but others have fallen. Gaps have opened. Saplings are rising in their place, fragile and uneven. It is not a scene of serene growth — it is messy, unpredictable, and constantly shifting.

This is where my business stands today.

Turbulence Without a Safety Net

These are turbulent times. In manufacturing, where I spent much of my career, large organisations often act as though the world is merely complicated. They isolate themselves from complexity with size, structure, and sheer momentum. Storms may rock them, but the canopy is so vast that gaps close quickly.

In a small business, there is no such safety net. When storms hit, they hit personally. They affect the owner, the staff, and the very identity of the business. A lost client is not just a line on a spreadsheet; it is livelihoods, stress at home, and nights of doubt.

That is the reality I am living in right now. This is not a polished success story of seizing opportunity. It is the painstaking work of reinvention — of tending saplings while keeping the old trees alive, of grieving what has been lost while committing to what might yet grow.

The Hard Work of Renewal

Over the past months, I have learned that:

• Saplings demand constant effort. Without deliberate attention, they wither before they can reach the canopy.
• Not all growth is equal. Some seedlings must be let go, even when they look promising, while others — quieter and less appealing — must be nurtured.
• Worldviews must shift. My own biases can blind me, and seeing through the forest’s eyes requires humility, curiosity, and critical reflection.
• Vision must emerge. In complexity, I cannot design the future in detail. I must experiment, adapt, and let the forest shape me as much as I shape it.

This is not comfortable work. It is not fast. But it is the only way to remain alive in a forest that is constantly changing.

The Soul of the Forest

I’ve written before about the difference between a managed tree farm and a wild forest. A tree farm is neat, orderly, predictable — but it lacks diversity, resilience, and, in some sense, a soul.

My business is not a tree farm. And I don’t want it to be. Its strength lies in its adaptability, in the diversity of ideas and relationships that make it alive, and in the values that give it meaning.

That’s why, even in turbulent times, I come back to identity. Every forest has its own character. Every business must know who it is at its core. Holding onto that soul — through storms, through reinvention, through uncertainty — is what sustains us.

Where I Stand

So where does this leave me? Somewhere in the middle of the forest, surrounded by saplings at different stages, tending them with the energy I can spare. It is slow, painstaking, and sometimes discouraging. But it is also the work of resilience.

I don’t know which saplings will make it to the canopy. I do know that by staying connected to the soul of my business, by applying what I’ve learned about managing complexity, and by continuing to nurture with intention, something will.

And maybe that is what we need to remind ourselves of in turbulent times: not that storms are opportunities in disguise, but that survival and renewal come through commitment, attention, and the courage to keep tending the forest even when the canopy feels far away.

My Identity in the Forest

At the heart of it all, I want my work to make a difference. Sometimes that difference is to the wider world, and sometimes it is to the people within a single business. Helping staff and leaders grow, transform, and discover their own strength is deeply rewarding.

I want to bring more awareness into what I do. Too many tasks in organisations are senseless, ticking boxes rather than creating value. My aim is to make meaningful contributions — not lip service to dysfunctional systems, but genuine support to those willing to improve and solve real problems.

I am most interested in working with organisations that are bold enough to explore the unknown, that resist cherry-picking the latest management or technological fad, and instead commit to genuine growth. That is where I can contribute, and that is where the work truly matters.

To other business owners: how do you stay true to your identity when resources are stretched and storms keep coming? What values anchor you as you tend your forest?