waiting for growth: lessons from a forest fire

Winter Creek Trail, October 16, 2024

On October 3rd, after four long years of waiting, the trails at Chantry Flats in the Angeles National Forest finally reopened. For many, like myself, this is more than just the reopening of a favorite hiking spot—it’s the return of a place that represents peace, reflection, and personal growth. These trails had been closed since the devastating Bobcat Fire swept through in the summer of 2020, a fire that destroyed much of the natural beauty in the area. But as with all things in nature—and in life—there’s a lesson here about resilience, recovery, and renewal. Even out of fire, beauty can return.

I vividly remember the day the trails closed. I was in Nebraska, attending an electronic health record activation hearing when I received the news. My heart sank. These trails had been a sanctuary for me during the early days of the pandemic—a place where I could go to find peace, to breathe, and to process everything that was happening at work and in the world. Learning that the fire had devastated them felt like losing a close friend.

Chantry Flats, nestled in the San Gabriel Mountains, is a place of incredible beauty. For those who have hiked these trails, you know the feeling of walking under the canopy of trees, hearing the gentle flow of Winter Creek, and breathing in the fresh mountain air. It’s not just the scenery that draws you in, it’s the sense of calm and renewal you find there.

The Bobcat Fire, like many wildfires, was merciless. It blackened trees, scorched the earth, and left behind a landscape that felt eerily unfamiliar. Yet nature has a remarkable way of healing itself. Walking the Winter Creek Trail again on October 16th, for the first time since the reopening, was a profoundly moving experience. It was different, and yet, it was the same. Many of the smaller trees stood like black shadows, burned to a crisp with no leaves, appearing as skeletons of their former selves. And yet, all around them, new growth was bursting forth. New colors, new life. The scars of the past were still visible, but life had returned.

The transformation of Chantry Flats is a powerful metaphor for growth. As workers, we all experience seasons of loss, setbacks, and fires of our own. It might be a project that falls apart, a missed promotion, a layoff, or an unforeseen challenge. In those moments, it’s easy to feel like the fire has consumed everything we’ve worked for. I know, I have felt that way. But just as the forest finds a way to grow through the ashes, we too can emerge from our these situations stronger, more vibrant, and ready for new opportunities.

Sometimes, we find ourselves in a season of waiting, much like the four years it took for these trails to reopen. We may feel ready for a new opportunity or a promotion, but it seems like no matter how hard we try, the timing just isn’t right, and we don’t get the desired outcome we are looking for. Yet, in the waiting, we grow. We develop new skills, new perspectives, and a deeper understanding of what’s truly important. When the time comes—when the trail reopens—we’re more prepared than ever to embrace what’s ahead.

Walking the Winter Creek Trail again reminded me that the scars of the past don’t disappear overnight. They remain as reminders of the challenges we’ve faced. But they don’t define us. What defines us is how we grow through them. The new growth, the vibrant colors, and the life that springs forth from the ashes are the true markers of resilience.

As I hiked the newly reopened trails of Chantry Flats, I was reminded of the importance of perseverance, patience, and faith. The scars of the past are still there, but new life and growth surrounds them. It’s a powerful image of renewal, both in nature and in our own lives. I’m excited to hike these trails again, to witness the continued transformation of this beautiful area, and to reflect on the lessons it has taught me about leadership, growth, and the power of waiting. The reopening isn’t just a return to hiking though-it’s a reminder that no matter how devastating the fire, beauty can return. It may take time, and we may need to wait longer than we’d like, but in that waiting, we grow stronger, more resilient, and ready for what’s next.

Are you in a season of waiting? What are you learning while you wait?

#sacredcubicle #growth #fire #hiking #renewal #resilience

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