09/15/2026
What You Can’t See
I was out taking a walk the other evening and came across the sight captured in this picture. The front yard of a nearby house had been dug out, down to about 15 feet in some places. Most noticeably, there was a huge hole next to a tree stump. I had walked by this house many times before over the years and recalled the huge magnolia tree where the stump was. The blossoms on that tree in the spring were spectacular, and in the summer, the large canopy of leaves provided cooling shade over the yard. I also remembered the lovely garden alongside the driveway and near the front porch. I imagined how heartbreaking all this probably was to the owners of the house.
It wasn’t new construction and didn’t look like anything was being remodeled. So, the next day, I was talking with a neighbor and asked if he’d seen the yard. He’d learned it was being dug out to remove soil that had been contaminated by a leak from a heating oil tank. I went by the next evening and noticed dark gray soil deep down, about 8 feet below the surface. This was the contaminated soil. And then I noticed the smell. Not overwhelming, but certainly not pleasant.
As I looked, I wondered about the condition of the soil in my life. No one walking by that house would have ever guessed how contaminated the soil was. It looked beautiful. Just like the owners of the house, I had worked over the years to create a “nice yard” for people to see. But what was below the surface? Not just a few feet below the surface, but 8, 12, and 15 feet down where no one could see? Where even I had a difficult time knowing what was really there in my own life. I shuddered a bit and wondered why anyone would want to know about that. My mind wandered to the common human experience of heartache, disappointment, and trauma that we all have experienced to some degree or another. And it all leaves a mark, often something others can’t see because it’s below the surface, and often deep down.
A few days later I learned the leak had happened many years ago and that they’d spent a great deal of time and money to identify the scope of it. I immediately thought of the hundreds of leaders I’d worked with over the years. Some wouldn’t think of doing the work of checking for contamination at all. Others would discover some and stop, as if recognizing it was enough.
But the contaminated soil is still there. Left untreated, it creates unsafe drinking water and poses serious human health risks, including acute illnesses or long-term diseases like cancer. It also causes significant damage to the ecosystem. Contaminated aquifers can discharge pollutants into nearby streams, lakes, or wetlands, harming local wildlife and aquatic life.
I can’t count the number of times I’ve said a sharp word, or many words, shut someone down, had negative thoughts, passed along an unnecessary and unhelpful story, fudged the truth, interrupted and talked over others, invalidated the feelings of others, or made backhanded or critical comments. And none of this even includes how I drive sometimes.
It’s not easy to acknowledge this, but I have a lot of contaminated soil in my life.
We all do.
Removing contaminated soil is disruptive. It’s messy. It can require digging much deeper than anyone expected. And for a while, things may look considerably worse than they did before.
Growth can be like that.
The leaders I admire most aren’t the ones with the nicest-looking yards. They’re the ones willing to find out what’s underneath them—and, when necessary, do the difficult work of digging it out.
Because what we can’t see can still affect everything growing around us.
