On holiday last week i found myself walking down a green lane in Wales, clearly an ancient boundary. The road was sunk down maybe ten feet, eroded by the feet and hooves of countless journeys, topped by a mound of stones and roots that had maybe once been walls and a managed hedgerow. Through it all grew a tree.
Not growing on flat land, but rooted into the bank, the wood shaped around the stones, forcing them apart in places, clinging on.
It reminded me of the trees i saw in Angkor Wat, melded into the structure of the temples themselves: a fluid structure where the two became bonded into one.
It reminded me of how systems persist, clinging on.
Power roots itself into the cracks, forcing apart the structure and nesting. It melds into everything, creating a cohesive mass and yet slowly breaking it apart, like the crumbling temples.
Perhaps this is how Organisations fail: torn apart by their legacy of strength, but unable to flow into the new?