Collision in the Corridor: A lesson for the heart

Yesterday I participated in an all day leadership day. The theme revolved around the corridor concept: looking at our city as a member of a greater region of 5 plus cities in the surrounding area. To fulfill the corridor outlook, we ventured the stretch of land between our city and another 30 minutes to the south. This corridor area was surprisingly full of business. While in the area, we had the opportunity to tour a Nordstrom's headquarters, the airport, a community college, and a major newspaper printing company. At each location, they discussed the choice to locate in the corridor area. Personally, I found the business tours most fascinating.

Our visit to the paper company was the best. We began the tour with a gift: ear plugs. To my friend and me, they could have been a present under the Christmas tree; we had a comical time playing with them. Even more fun, was screaming at each other once they were in to carry on conversation. Afterwards, I wondered what others thought if they were without earplugs and in our vicinity...

The highlights of this tour had me in awe. First off, we walked into a huge holding room where the blank paper was stored. The paper, imported from Canada, was stored in 1 ton rolls. The rolls were staked to the ceiling. They looked like hay barrels in the countryside. The second highlight of the tour was the holding room for the ink. Four colors are used in the newspaper world: yellow, blue, red, and black. There was a tank for each color. I felt no longer in a newspaper company warehouse, but at a gas station. The tanks were huge. Filled like gas tanks, the stock of ink is replenished every 3 weeks. From these massive tanks, the ink inside is pipelined to the printing press stations for use.

The other fascinating part of the tour was observing the amazing technology used behind the scenes to produce the newspaper products. My favorite was this compressing and wrapping contraption. A pallet of newspapers was squashed like a bug, tied with plastic binders, and then covered in clear wrapping. I guess you could say this was the newspaper company's take on wrapping gifts. (I'd hate to have to open a present like that...grandma's are hard enough.)

Beyond the tour, another aspect struck me. While at the community college, we had this rotating panel opportunity. Every 5-10 minutes, our respective groups moved from one table to the next. The corridor leader at each table had a question: How to attract visitors? How to improve the corridor? What do you and don't you like about our city? Where would you want to live? The last question seemed somewhat easy to me: anywhere but here. Many posed the same response. This did not surprise me. What did was the corridor lady's response:

"I know of man, a close friend of mine. He had the opportunity to teach in spectacular cities across the nation, the ones with big lights, monumental attractions, interesting people, and fresh life. He was a high school teacher. He told me all the students, from the East coast to the West, were the same: each hated their city and wanted to move away."

In a way, I was shocked. Hated their city? Wanted to move away? That's the kind of response reserved for a small town girl waiting for liberation. But then it began to make sense. Just as curly hair people want straight hair, and brunettes secretly dream of being blonde, contentment is hard to come by. As if to be innate in the human encryption, we are always searching for something more, something else.

As this truth unveiled before my eyes, it sunk to my heart where it forever will have a place: Dream like there's no tomorrow, but love what you have today.