A Manifesto: Soul is not stupid

On a cold, dreary day in November, I was in Northern California about to have one of the most significant moments of my life. Of course, I didn’t know that yet. That morning, I had been shaken awake by the sound of huge surf pounding on the beach just a few hundred yards from my tent. Dark clouds had settled low over the hills of the Redwood National Park, a deeply green landscape streaked with pouring rain.

I strapped on my backpack and trudged through the mud deep into the ancient forest, where I was awed by the soaring, thousand-year-old trees that surrounded me. The forest felt magical and electric, even despite the frigid downpour that had leaked into my raingear and felt as if it was soaking my bones. I felt invigorated, but it wasn’t just the grandeur of nature; over the previous 10 weeks, I had been walking, on my own, all the way down the West Coast from Canada on a personal journey of healing and redemption. Arriving in the redwood forest felt like a pinnacle, a metaphorical manifestation of what I had been walking towards. (It helped that, an hour early, I had gotten stoned.)

In a fit of unbridled enthusiasm, I had pressed my body against the immense trunk of a particularly giant redwood tree, feeling the coarse bark against my nearly-frozen cheek. Then, to my great surprise, I heard something: the tree was talking. To me. 

We had a conversation that felt so meaningful that it caused me to weep. Tears streamed down my face as I clutched onto that tree as if clinging to my life. I had never felt so connected or whole, so understood or loved. The moment was transcendent, and as I came down and trudged my way towards safety and warmth, I knew that I would never forget it.

Over the years, I have learned that many other people have had their own version of this kind of soulful experience. Some of them happen on the beach or in the shower, or in the embrace of a loved one. Not everyone gets there by hugging a tree. I have also learned that many people, like me, feel deeply afraid of sharing these experiences. It’s not just that they are vulnerable and intimate. They are seen by many as woo-woo or treacly. Self-indulgent. Unscientific. Even downright unintelligent.

Today, we live in a world where our inner life appears to be valueless. Soul has become stupid. No wonder so many of us keep these experiences to ourselves. 

Many years have passed since I had this experience. Since then, I have shaved off my wild beard and become a corporate consultant. (It’s the way of the world). My clients hire me to help with complex human problems, like communication, alignment and change. I often find myself in searching, strategic conversations where I talk to executives about things like resilience, belonging, and innovation. 

In today’s reality, just about every business leader recognizes that they need these things to succeed… and yet I am consistently shocked by how few of them seem to understand how these things actually work. You can’t talk someone into hope or belief or courage. You need to connect with something else. 

Trying to create resilience without intimacy is literally soulless. 

We need to change how we think about the place that soul holds in business. Not just because making things more soulful feels better for employees and customers—though those things are certainly true. We need soul because it is a component of our intelligence. Without soul, people are just numbers, goals are just KPIs, and innovation is just a process of continually repeating the past. Our creativity and our motivation are fundamentally tied to our souls. So are our hope and our resilience. 

To get there, we need to look at ourselves and our businesses differently. 

I have spent a lot of time thinking about the reintegration between business and soul—not just why it’s important, but how to actually go about doing it. I have learned, first of all, that there is no “right path”. It’ll look a little different for everyone—for every leader and every organization. The path forward is nuanced. It’s not just a linear framework or change management program. That’s the good news.

But even though this path is necessarily individual, there are still commonalities across practitioners. There are lessons and processes to be shared. This is the ambition of my work. 

In subsequent articles, as well as through talks, podcasts, and the other forms of experiences I create, my goal is to transmit the material of these insights. (I say material because many of these insights are non-cognitive, they are held and felt and expressed through our bodies.) 

Soul is not stupid. Quite the opposite: connection to our souls is essential to where we’re going, and to our ability—as individuals and organizations—to navigate the scale of the change. My vision is to gestate a community of other leaders who are also walking this journey alongside of me. 

Reach out if this resonates.