I’d like to invite you to take a journey with me today. Step into my whirlwind… whoosh! When the wind stops you suddenly find yourself standing in a new home. You walk out the front door to find a new skyline and different people. There is commotion in the street; a crowd has gathered and everyone celebrates your arrival. A giant party ensues with dancing, singing, and joy. For hours you party on. You meet a lot of new faces and learn a lot of new names. This is a great place.
You end the day with a smile on your face and return to your home with a feeling of happiness. This new town is wonderful. And you think to yourself… I could live here forever. The next day you walk out the door, but now things are different. The partying is over… it’s back to work for everybody.
Then you notice something very strange. Even though the people of this new world come in all shapes and sizes, the tools of their trades are all very small. The ditch diggers have really tiny shovels. The bakers have little tiny spoons and the barbers have itsy bitsy scissors. Everyone is working very hard, much harder than they need to. You walk along in amazement, and suddenly someone puts a tiny little shovel in your hand.
“Come dig with us,” is the cry, and you find yourself trying to dig a big hole with a very small shovel. The work is hard… incredibly hard. You get frustrated after just a few minutes, and you ask your co-workers why they are using such small tools. The little man next to you answers, “We’ve always done it this way,” and continues digging. You shrug – well, that’s a good reason … I guess.
You work through the day, getting more and more frustrated by the minute. The sun bakes your neck and there is grumbling among the workers. Everyone is complaining about the small paychecks. Sure enough when the whistle blows at the end of the day, the foreman hands you a tiny check for only a few dollars.
“This is insane,” you think to yourself, and walk slowly back to your house. As you walk past a restaurant you notice the prices on the window are high. When you look inside you can see why. The plates are normal size, but the frying pan and the utensils are all very small. It would cost you most of your daily wage just to get a meal.
That night you do a lot of soul searching and decide you need find someplace better. You determine that you will leave this town in the morning. As the sun rises you pack a bag and head out the door, joining other people who are going to work. You ask them how to leave. “There is only one way out, but you can’t leave!”
As you come to the edge of town you see a large forest with a golden path leading into it. This must be it, you think to yourself. As you start to head down the path, many of the town’s people come running. “Don’t go down that road… there are giant talking trees, flying monkeys and a very wicked woman in that forest… you’ll surely die!” “No one ever comes back,” someone says sadly.
You suddenly wonder… should you go? After all… this is a safe place. Fear starts to envelope you, but you look back and realize you couldn’t continue to use such small tools. This whole place has such small things… small tools, small paychecks… but above all… small ideas.
You take the first step, and then another. The noise of the crowd behind you gets louder and louder… “Don’t Go… Stop!” But you keep going and the path suddenly gets very narrow and very dark. As you round the first bend, you suddenly hear a rumble and then you see it… right there in front of you is a…