I was in Southern Utah recently for a bit of adventuring in the slot canyons and slickrock near Escalante. One of my hikes was to be a loop that took me down one canyon to a confluence with another canyon through which I would return to my car camp. The descent down to the floor of the initial canyon was surprisingly treacherous, and I recall thinking, “I’m glad I don’t have to do that again.” The hike from there, while stunning, was quite a chore of thrashing through thick vegetation and wading through deep water, but I had the enthusiasm and energy that one gets when entering a new adventure with the unknown ahead. (Warning: metaphor developing.)

I got to a point at which the canyon walls narrowed to a slot with smooth, vertical sandstone walls and deepening water, so deep that I was going to have to swim for an undetermined length with no way to stop and rest mid-slot. I decided to retreat and return the way I had come, as uninviting as that was. It was becoming a long day–I was hot, tired, thirsty, and ready to be done. I knew the obstacles ahead and was not excited about working through them. As beautiful as the canyon was, I needed to find an earlier exit. 

That’s when I saw the stack of rocks almost right in front of me. Why would someone deliberately build a cairn here if not to signal that this was a safe route out of the canyon? I looked ahead and saw a series of cairns along the route up the steep ascent. As sketchy as it looked, this was indeed a route others had taken.

Cairns in the wilderness are controversial. They often are unreliable, built by users who may not know where they’re going and don’t take the time to remove the cairn they built that got them in trouble. This set of cairns didn’t make the climb easy, but gave me just enough confidence to take risks more comfortably. They ultimately enabled me to exit the canyon safely and feel the exhilaration of taking agency to chart a lesser-traveled path.

So where did I find myself in the spring of 2025? First off, grateful to have found the employer I’ve been with for the last 18 years, doing the work that the organization needed done, and hopeful to continue to contribute to its mission in a different capacity. But I also found myself recognizing that I need to take a new path to rekindle the fire that drew me to HR in the first place: building human capabilities in workplaces. 

I look forward to a far more adventurous and rewarding route through terrain that fills my cup by bringing value to others.