This is me four years ago, six thousand feet up in the Carpathian mountains, enjoying an Autumn afternoon. I had a friendly group to lead, and the weather was lovely. I was looking forward to resting, for this was nearly the final ride of the season. It had been a long and demanding season, as they all were.
The old horse Doru is retired now, and was happy when I fed him this evening. Today was another wonderfully fine clear day, though the absence of mountains was evident. I rode Doru's replacement, Brena, wearing most of the clothes in the picture. Well, they aren't worn out yet. I didn't kit myself out in cheap rubbish. As a guide that would have been a false economy.
This afternoon, rather than riding, I guided a very senior manager through a complex bid for £3bn of work. Now that was difficult terrain, though really just as intuitive in its own way as those mountains with their distinctive "grain" born of geology and history. Lessons transfer in surprising ways. One is that intuition - a remarkably complex process of unconscious calculation based on experience and insight - can be powerful.
Power can become intoxicating. Therefore the limitations of intuition, its potential failings, the risks inherent in imprecision must all be understood. There are benefits in growing older. The peculiar thing is that I don't feel old. Yes, my body displays the occasional ache and creak. However my mind feels younger than that, or is it simply fresher and more curious? The key seems to be that it is healthier than ever. Eight years in the mountains certainly created some fertile ground, in contrast to the austere alpine soil that sprouted thin grass and dwarf trees. Now I've ploughed that ground, observed what sprang forth, weeded and tended that which is good: no longer intoxicated.
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