The First Call
It was a call from a former colleague and friend. He was organising an event to get former army officers and their spouses together, on an informal platform. He and a coursemate of mine reached out to all the veteran officers. Their efforts bore fruits. Many officers confirmed their attendance. I presumed he called up to discuss something about the meeting.
“Sir, I want you to give a talk on ‘group dynamics’ at the meeting, he requested. I could not decline. Each attendee had a distinguished career behind him. Most of them had commanded and led troops in operations. They were masters at keeping teams together and eliciting performance from them in the most trying circumstances. Their spouses had seen it all from very close quarters. Talking to them about team dynamics, I knew, was like showing a candle to the sun.
I scoured the web for research papers on the subject. All the articles, I laid my hands on, were clinical in their approach. Those in the realm of behavioural sciences took the psychology and psychiatry routes. Papers dealing with management used medical, clinical, and industrial inputs to explain the why of everything. They prescribed how to increase organisational harmony, growth, and productivity. I wanted my talk to be something other than academic because I was to address men and women who risked their own lives for the safety, honour, and welfare of the country and the men they lead. I wanted my talk to connect with their hearts.
When urgency dictates responses, people normally choose easy fixes. I loathe it because such solutions invariably become residual problems that persist. I just dig deeper, strive harder, and normally succeed in coming up with solutions that don't become problems later. I have been lucky. My mind was hard at work. I had not yet come up with any interesting connection.
The Second Call
It was quarter past eight in the evening and bedtime was fast approaching. My mobile buzzed. The message was from one of my cousins. "Will you be at home on the 28th of September?" it said. "As of now; Yes," I responded. "Can I call," he asked. "Certainly," I replied.
He was older than me and was more of an acquaintance than a cousin. Our childhood interactions were brief. We were next-door neighbours and also members of the same local club. Members of the club were a band of youngsters, all in the same age group, looking for adventure and fun. He came to the club only to play badminton and steadfastly stayed away from mischief we worked up. He was studious, focused, hardworking, detached, reserved, and determined to carve a niche for himself. I was part of all the mischief that we, friends, planned and executed unless they decided to pull one on me.
After graduation, he pursued studies in engineering and secured a career with a prestigious company. When I graduated, I joined the Military Academy and became an army officer. We drifted apart and raised our own families. We met just twice or three times in the last 40 years. Social media opened up avenues to catch up with people and we found a place on each other's contact list but never contacted each other. His message, therefore was a surprise.
My mobile rang. “It has been many years. I want to meet you, sit down, talk with you, and hug you. We all are running against time. I want to spend some time with you before it is late,” he said. I could sense the sincerity in his words. We agreed to meet on the 30th of September. My mind was still hard at work when I retired to bed. “Why did he call me up?”
That night I had a strange dream. I saw a forest full of giant Redwood trees. The name ‘redwood tree’ lingered on. I got up from the bed and drank water. Redwood trees? The dream was about things alien to me. I went back to sleep. I dreamt of the Redwood trees again.
The Redwood Trees
Normally, I find it difficult to recall dreams once I wake up. This dream refused to fade away. I had never been to any Redwood forests. Then, out of the blue, I recalled having read something about the redwood trees of California while I searched the net for places to visit in the USA. I searched again.
Redwood trees are amongst the tallest, biggest, and oldest trees in the world. Some trees are said to have a girth with a diameter of more than 20 feet. It withstands rot, fire, and pests. What is visible to the naked eye is not its actual strength but the manifestation of the real power that lies hidden beneath the surface. Storms and floods cannot fell a Redwood tree. They hold each other. I decided to make the secret of the Redwood trees the ‘connection’ between me and the audience.
The Secret
All trees send roots down; the taller the tree, the deeper the roots. Redwood trees are the tallest but adopt a different strategy. The taller the tree, the farther its roots travel. Like other trees, it does send its roots deep down but unlike other trees, it also sends its roots away in search of other Redwood roots. When the roots of different Redwood trees meet, they embrace each other and eventually merge. It is believed that each redwood tree is connected, at its roots, to all the other redwood trees in the forest. Imagine the strength of each tree held firm by a forest full of roots. No storm or flood can harm a Redwood tree. Storms and floods are inevitable.
Storms
Individually, each one of us might be super achievers. We might tower over everybody else around us with our achievements. Our wealth and health may seem unassailable. We may even feel undefeatable. Unfortunately, aging is inevitable and afflicts all of us, however mighty we may be. It is also an uneasy process. It brings along storms every day; to each man his own.
“Empty nest” is a common challenge. We plan the future of our children and strive hard to raise them to succeed in life. When our children grow up, they leave the nest in pursuit of careers of their choice and also raise their own families. Initially, we take great pride and satisfaction in saying that our children have gone far but as age catches up one realises that the nest is empty. It is a situation that we all strive to bring upon ourselves and therefore an irony that we have to come to terms with. Emptiness is the first storm to hit an empty nest.
The storm gains fury as we age. Physical ailments, lack of sleep, and loss of purpose accentuate emptiness. Days become shorter, nights become longer and the horizon looks a bit closer than before. The clock sounds louder at night signaling the presence of emptiness in our nests. The inability of our children to meet our demands on their time, proximity, and care starts hurting us and even negates the pride we once carried about their achievements. The more we demand the less we feel we get irrespective of whatever and how much soever they do. Emptiness is the most dangerous form of cancer. It rots one from within.
Loss of spouse and friends, inevitable in our journey in time, worsens emptiness and makes the storm unbearable. Those amongst us who toiled all our lives only for ourselves, like trees sending their roots down without connecting with the world around, can find emptiness unbearable and storms hard to survive. Those unwilling to mend ways have nothing but bitter emptiness for company, as they age. Their escape comes through Dementia, Alzheimer's, and eventual death. Luckily, it is never too late to start extending our hands of friendship and cooperation to the people around us. There is just one impediment, the baggage we carry.
Baggage
The only impediment to sending our roots out in search of other Redwood trees is our ego. We think no end to ourselves because of the success we attribute to ourselves. We might have been anybody when we were at the zenith of our profession. The place we considered our thrones, the very symbol of our achievements and success, has to be handed over to someone younger even if we don't like it. There will be people more capable than us even if we don't accept it. It is better, we understand that positions and authority are transient and we have travelled beyond them. It is the same with our failures. Success and failures are comparative and perceptional. Pivoting happiness on success and failure is the ultimate cruelty to oneself. This realisation can make it easy for us to let go of the baggage of success or failure that weigh us down as we age. Unwanted cargo only helps a ship drown faster in a storm.
The Stamp Pad
Finally, the day I was to address the veterans dawned. I opened the closet to choose the shirt I was to wear. The first thing that caught my eye was the stamp pad.
It happened a year back, I had called the Soldier welfare officer, requesting an appointment with her. My wife and I were required to affix our thumb impressions on a document in her presence and get that document attested by her. The fine lady had a busy schedule that day. She could not give us an appointment on that day during office hours. She, however, visited us on her way back home. She even carried the stamp pad for the thumb impression. She left the stamp pad back with us. Her act was one of absolute benevolence. I have kept it as a memento. Every time I see the stamp pad, I am reminded of, not just the immense kindness she showed but all that I received all my life. It also reminds me to be grateful for anything I receive.
A sense of gratitude is a great nutrient. It changes the way we look at life. We become aware of our interdependence as members of the community we live in. It helps initiate, maintain, and sustain fruitful relationships and contribute without expectations. It also works as one of the best antidotes to the ailments inflicted by ego. The older we get, the more reasons we can identify to be grateful. The more we age, the faster we must shed our egos.
Sans egos and filled with gratitude it becomes easy to stretch our hands out for friendship. When many hands come together each one of us becomes tall like the Redwood trees in the forest, immune to storms and floods that we encounter in our daily lives.
