It happened Again

 It happened again. But, this time, unlike the previous occasions on which I had this tantalizing experience, I allowed myself to dwell on the symbolism of what may be dismissed by a less creative thinker as an insignificant, random occurrence. I firmly believe that this experience underscores a salad of principles that are worth thinking about and writing on. I have concentrated this post on the principle of ensuring that effort and expected outcomes are aligned.

I was picking mangoes. I already had a few fairly appealing ones when I noticed something. Hanging from a branch at least five feet beyond my unaided reach was a mature, deliciously sun-kissed mango that was perfect for my pre-breakfast palate. I definitely had to pick that mango. It was clearly ready to be liberated from the company of noticeably green fruit that surrounded it.

However, I had a problem. I do not own a fruit picker. That simple, yet ingenious, invention would have made it easy for me to cradle the desirable fruit and, with a firm yank, separate the half-pound Julie sweetness from the small, solidly green mangoes around it. Unfortunately, for no particular reason, I have never acquired a fruit picker. The three-foot-long stick that I had been using to pick the single-seed, vitamin-rich fruit was too short. Nevertheless, I was not about to leave that particular mango to the eager pecking of blackbirds and kiskadees. I wanted it, and I was going to get it. I put too much value on the fibre, vitamins C, A and B6 that mangoes provide to allow the neighnourhood birds to beat me to this one. Without taking the time to consider my options, I made my move. I leapt. I grabbed the lower end of the branch. I gave it a vigorous shake. To my dismay, green mangoes came tumbling down, but the succulent fruit, the one I expected to slip easily from its stem, remained on the tree. Despite my energetic shake, I had not succeeded in dislodging the fruit I wanted from its position.

There are many cross-cutting analogies that could inspire personal and organisational growth which can be derived from this experience. Perhaps, because every one of my sixty-four inches has educator pores, I discern multiple education principles that we, from novice teacher to director, need to heed. This was, I would suggest, a demonstration of what could potentially result when the effort or strategies we employ are dissonant with the goal or outcome we expect. Our efforts, the steps we take, the actions we perform must align with what we hope to achieve.

Though we may have lofty goals, incredibly appropriate intentions, if we apply the wrong strategy, take the wrong course of action, adopt an inappropriate approach, we may never achieve our goal. This hapless experience of the fallen green mangoes and the unpicked ripe mango suggests to me that haste breeds waste; force can be fatal; and unity between what we envision and what we accomplish depends, to a large extent, on the actions we take. What do you think?