My favorite time of day coincides with early morning sunlight. Its rejuvenation, healing coolness, the way it subtly begins to reveal the edges of my day. Sitting with my daughter, Niko, as she stirs, watching her little fingers move as if grasping for that last little bit of sleep, I am already thinking of what kind of world she is waking up to. She changes with each blink, it seems, as does the world.
I wonder whether my daughter will lift the earth in her hands or see the world through a screen. Whether she will find climbing trees and swimming ’til sundown a most worthy pastime, or if she will rather put on virtual reality goggles and jump from floating island to floating island in the air. I often need to course correct from my all-or-nothing attitude to remind myself that it does not have to be one or the other, yet I do feel that my generation sits perched on an evermore flexible fence line, balancing on the edge of such questions.
All I can think about in these moments is the tension of opposites, a concept I learned about in college—being pulled between two desires, paths, decisions, or experiences. The conflict is everywhere around us: the beautiful advances of technology, but also the traditions it tampers with. Multigenerational farming families with one hand rooted firmly in the field and the other branching off toward an easier, softer way of living; the nuance or polarization in politics—it is all there.
As a company, we walk this line between digital and print: between the physically tangible and tactile and the immersive screen experience. For now, we find that our value greatly comes forward in our ability to straddle this tension, this conflict—as a collaboration of opposites. We create a holistic understanding of the lives we all bridge, no matter the paradox.
We see it more and more in our industry today. I have had many conversations about this in the past few years since COVID-19 inspired us to the extremes. Some have become remote communicators, multitasking their communications with text and email. Others prefer a shaking of hands, a hug, a phone call, eye contact, and sitting at a table giving each other the gift of time.
I find myself at the center of this tension. There’s so much to do and so little time to do it, especially now that I have a small human tossing her teething giraffe at my ankle. At one time, I might have said that the split in how we communicate was strictly generational, but I now feel that there is a renaissance in relationships occurring. Seasoned and young alike are more often picking up the phone, reaching across the table, meeting in cities across the country to reinvigorate, rejuvenate, and heal the divide between us.
One of the first things I learned when I came into fresh produce was that it was a people industry. Relationship-driven. Passionate. I think that is why I kept at each challenge that came my way in the early years, and what keeps me here now.
As I look at Niko, her hands wrapped in my hands, I hope she finds the joy in these tensions she will know. I hope she embraces change and also holds true to the roots of human relationships. I love the idea of preparing the child for the path instead of the path for the child.
I say it at this moment with a smile.
Ask me again in a few years.
