When we create a business, we create a new world. Everybody who steps into the business, steps into our world.
What kind of world do we want it to be? A frozen wasteland where people live with fear and growth is impossible – a deflationary world, really – or one where our teams feel happy and creative, and growth can take place?
The outcome depends on our mindsets as business owners and the choices that ensue.
I’m exploring this analogy as I delve into the magical Narnia series by C.S. Lewis, written for children but containing a wealth of inspiration for adults, too. May as well weave some magic into business! I’m delighted by what I’m learning. Here goes….
A world just beginning
Two children called Polly and Digory are swept into a dark place – a world that is just beginning. They hear a magical voice singing and eventually see a giant lion, whose voice is creating a new world.
The magical voice sings into being stars, then sunlight, plants, birds, and a wealth of animals. The music is dumbfounding in its power and beauty. It fills the children with joy.
Strange thing is that a wicked witch, who was swept into this unfolding world too, holds her hands to her ears in agony. To her, the beautiful singing is unbearable because her senses cannot perceive goodness for what it is.
In our real world, too, I’ve observed that people who have bad motives do not recognise goodness. They see it, not themselves, as wicked. Perhaps this lack of understanding is one of the ways we can recognise bad intent.
The witch goes on to dominate the magical world of Narnia, bringing about a winter where snow always falls; where creatures are bribed to deceive one another and brutally punished when they balk at her bidding.
Some businesses are like this, creating a psychological wasteland.
A wizard known to Polly as Uncle Andrew is on the scene when the world is created. Like the witch, he cannot bear the lion’s singing. When he is a little way off from the lion, he says, “First thing is to get that brute shot.”
“You’re just like the Witch. All you understand is killing things,” Polly shouts at him – showing the wisdom of children.
The witch has escaped; evil remains in the world and will be battled with forevermore.
On to the naming of kings and the need for daggers …
Why the cabby becomes king
A humble cab driver and his horse were also swept into the magical world. Despite being confused, the cabby is worried about his distressed horse and shows kindness to all the creatures the lion creates – and even to the evil witch. The lion, called Aslan, recognises the cabby’s humility and goodness. This is why he is made the first king of the magical kingdom of Narnia.
The cabby is told to rule with kindness and justice. He must also protect his kingdom from enemies when these arise – “and they will arise,” Aslan warns, for the witch has escaped and is already hatching plans for a takeover.
The cabby is unsure of his worth and reluctant to be king but eventually with Aslan’s persuasion, pledges that he will “do my best”, even in battle. The cabby is a sharp contrast to the over-confident, arrogant witch who seeks power at all costs and, as the stories reveal, uses other people for her own ends, never seeing them for who they are nor caring for them.
I realise that I (like all of us I presume) have an inner cabby and an inner witch. I must constantly choose whom I pay the most attention to. If our witch is running the show, we cannot see the potential in others nor build them up. We think our business is our own personal kingdom and that people in it exist for our benefit, so we use them to grow our own wealth and power.
This is what many CEOs do when they retrench staff merely to raise profits at the expense of the team’s well-being and the final product, or when they siphon off exorbitant salaries while their staff members suffer with low wages, or starve the company of needed cash.
We do our best always, at Dolphin Bay, to appreciate good intentions and kindness. Naturally, each of us must set high goals and not be lazy – be willing to “do our best”, like the cabby. In recognition of these efforts, we build each team member up so that they can be kings and queens in their own positions – with responsibility for their domains, and without micromanagement. Ultimately, it’s about trust.
It’s not always easy. I, Bertus, am by nature suspicious of others’ motives. More about this later.
Betrayal for Turkish Delight
Later in the series, a boy called Edmund betrays his younger sister Lucy. He has visited the magical kingdom of Narnia and met the witch, who promised him a lot of Turkish Delight – and a throne. The sulky and vindictive boy goes home to tell his older siblings that Narnia does not exist and that Lucy, who visited Narnia and told them about it, must be crazy.
All Edmund wants is Turkish Delight.
The witch was lying. She had no intention of giving that Turkish Delight, nor a throne, to Edmund. Ironically, Aslan already had a throne waiting for him, although Edmund had no idea of it at the time. He would be entitled to it, if only he had a good heart.
Edmund came to discover the witch’s duplicity – and realised that some people who seem good are not – when she later captured him. The witch had seemed kind and convincing but was using him to try to gain total power by trapping the four children, who were the true kings and queens of Narnia.
I’m very sceptical, by nature, of other people’s intentions. It’s very important to me to understand other people’s thinking. I’m very wary of being taken in by that witch and being caught out enjoying her Turkish Delight!
Scepticism may help us discern people’s motives, but it can also distance us from others and from appreciating the goodness in a moment. It can turn into cynicism: the slow start to entertaining the witch and turning a kingdom of summer into winter. That’s the nasty side of it, and it’s something to guard against. I’m working on it!
The Narnia stories are reminding me how important it is to remain conscious of the power – and pitfalls – of being in a position of responsibility.
Too good to be true?
After Edmund tells his elder siblings that Lucy was lying about Narnia, the children discuss their dilemma with the professor who is hosting them. (They were sent from London to his house for safety during the Second World War.) The professor’s response is intriguing. “Is Lucy an irrational person? Is she known to lie? If not, perhaps she is telling the truth.”
The two older children, Susan and Peter, cannot believe that Lucy’s outlandish story might be true. They have not climbed into her shoes. They tried to get into Narnia, but they did not make the effort she made – they did not push through the back of the wardrobe, which was the portal to Narnia – so they cannot understand.
We’re often like this in business. If someone tells us about something so interesting and alive with possibility that we cannot believe it, we say it’s impossible. It sounds too good to be true. But the professor had a very different response. He looked at the person’s character and the context and reached a different conclusion.
What if ‘too good to be true’ is sometimes possible? How might we feel, act, and do business in this case? Of course we need to fulfil all our mundane tasks, keeping track of all the nuts and bolts, but we also need to shake up our habits. A bit of magic, or at least what previously seemed impossible, would be a great help.
Think of something wonderful – and then imagine it’s true!
The traitor, redeemed
Edmund is captured by the witch and tied up. He suffers greatly. Aslan sends flying creatures to rescue him, and he makes a run for it. Later, the lion takes Edmund for a walk in a garden. They have a serious discussion. We never know what was said: Aslan doesn’t tell anyone else. But after that Edmund apologises to his siblings and begins to behave honourably, as he does for the rest of the series of stories, even showing great valour in battle.
After suffering at the hands to the witch, Edmund realises the wickedness of his deeds and the desolation he has caused.
In the garden, Aslan tells him the truth about what he has done and offers him the healing he desperately needs, we presume. He also learns the consequences of his actions for others and his true identity as a king, if only he could step up to the role. He is given the chance to change.
Edmund was not evil but merely greedy and selfish. He needed to go through the suffering his actions caused, before realising the wickedness of his ways. Only then could he have a change of heart.
Peter, Susan, and Lucy then forgive their brother with no judgement, although he still has to prove himself in battle. Later, Aslan pays a huge price for rescuing Edmund from the witch, but to find out more about that, please read the book. I don’t want to give the crux of it all away.
What sacrifices do we, as leaders, make for our teams? Do we live like kings while they suffer, or do we work and go to battle alongside them, as the cabby promised to do? Do we go into the garden with them to talk honestly when things go wrong?
Do we allow people to experience the consequences of their actions, and later be given the chance for a change of heart?
Suffering can bring this change of heart. Only when we are metaphorically tied up in the wasteland, experiencing the cold, do we realise the desolation we have created.
We then tell people we have changed, and often they don’t believe us. To be believed we need to have a chance to prove ourselves, and not be judged.
We’re all dangerous
When the witch is chased out of Narnia at one point and the creatures are celebrating, three of the children receive a special gift. Edmund is still with the witch, receiving not Turkish Delight but a dry crust of bread. Meanwhile, Peter receives a sword and shield; for Susan, there are a bow and arrows and a magical horn, which will always bring help when blown; and Lucy receives a healing cordial and a dagger.
All three children receive weapons. Even Lucy, who received a balm for healing others’ wounds, receives a dagger to defend herself. That dagger represents her right to life. Battle is inevitable; everyone can be dangerous.
The big question for me is what the sword and dagger represent in business. I believe they represent authority and the need to keep order; to set and protect boundaries, so that the business can run smoothly and grow for the benefit of all in it.
Each of us must face our fears – battle is scary, after all – and blow our horns when we need help so that we can win those battles that are necessary.
Again, the story shows us a choice. We can use our metaphorical weapons either to protect what is good, or to hurt and bully others. The children use theirs only to protect Narnia from creatures with evil intent, which earns them the love and respect of all the creatures in the land.
While we want our team to win battles in business, we also want them not to judge the opponent we’re battling; to battle the evil in others, but not the people themselves. Watch out if we win too many battles, however. We might become arrogant and start turning into the witch.
Interestingly, her name turns out to be Jadis, meaning “once, or long ago”. This could mean that evil entered the world long ago; to my mind, her name reveals that she is holding onto past hurts and looking backwards, refusing to change.
There’s no way you can walk straight when you’re looking backwards.
Edmund comes close to being lost to the witch; it’s a narrow escape. A friend of mine was surprised at his redemption. She thought him such a worm that he didn’t deserve it. Now she acknowledges that it’s her own inner witch who judged Edmund so completely, and her own inner Edmund whom she was rejecting.
I believe that like Edmund and my friend, we must each acknowledge our own inner complexities before we can allow ourselves, and the organisations that we serve, to be transformed.
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