The obscure phrase “through a glass darkly” is deeply integrated in the English psyche, even if its origin and meaning are lost in the mists of time for most of us. Some will claim its origin as the 1961 Ingmar Bergman movie of the same title. Or the 1993 Jostein Gaarder novel. Both tangentially tackle the original intention of the 1^st Century CE Biblical phrase immortalised in the 17^th Century cadences of the King James Bible.

The theological imperative of the original author was to establish the partiality of human insights arising from the biases of human perception and the limited evidence on which we form our worldview. The author goes on the elaborate: “… now we see only in part … “. [Could this be an early encapsulation of the VUCA concept?] Partiality is innate and unavoidable. Learning helps but finitude is a given. But finitude itself in not the core issue – openness to recognise finitude is.

Even if the theological intent of the phrase is not of interest to us, there can be few of us who do not recognise the profound truth contained within its assertion about the impact of the finitude of human experience in forming our perspective. Who among us has not grappled with major decisions where we only have partial information with which to form our judgement? Or who has not experienced the impact of our own bias or prejudice in forming our worldview? And who has not been so absorbed in the givenness of the status quo as to be unable to imagine new possibilities?

This challenge is central all endeavours in human development and growth. It is central to the idea of a growth mindset. It is pivotal to the development of an innovation mindset. It is crucial for the development of excellent leaders.

Oftentimes we frame our search for growth and development, either as individuals or as leaders, in terms of a search for new opportunities or new challenges – a new stretch. These are important. But sometimes the real growth is to be found not in seeking fresh challenges, but in viewing the present with a fresh perspective.

The 20^th Century French writer Marcel Proust captured this idea well when he wrote in The Captive, “The real voyage of discovery … consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes”. He invites us to reconsider our understanding of exploration and discovery.

There are times when new landscapes are part of our journey of discovery. There are times when these are not possible, or profitable, but this does not preclude growth. At times, the most profound growth is attained not through the thrill of new vistas but rather through a fresh appreciation of the place we already are. Seeing our world through fresh eyes. Noticing things, perhaps for the very first time. Coming to a deeper understanding of our context, a fuller realisation of what is and what might be.

I often use the phrase navigating newness to describe this developmental journey of growth. I believe it captures well the energy, excitement and uncertainty of the exploration. Both words serve the task well. It runs the danger, however, that it becomes skewed by our 21^st Century understanding of navigation via satnav or GPS as being something deterministic where all that matters is the destination. Even in the age of satnav, noticing the way-marks on the journey reduces miss-turns and minimises stress. Moreover, noticing the route enriches our understanding of the context of the destination. Destination and journey are complementary and necessary parts of the whole which belong together.

I am reminded of the profound phrase of the American poet TS Eliot writing in his famous 1943 poem Little Gidding.

“We shall not cease from exploration 
And the end of all our exploring 
Will be to arrive where we started 
And know the place for the first time.”

Eliot captures far better than I the human quest which I describe as navigating newness. It is less to do with the arrival, and more to do with the journey. And the journey is what leads to enlightenment, to knowledge, to wisdom.