AnimalsMagazine

We’ve all faced crossroads. We’ve all stared at a problem and asked what the solution might be to the challenge in front of us. We’ve all wondered how we might get from here to there.

If we’re lucky, we don’t give up when the problem seems insurmountable. We get creative. We brainstorm and then we choose a path. We focus. If we’re even luckier, we solve our problem, we get from here to there – and we move on.

What we don’t do?

Look back and reflect on why we chose the path we took. And maybe we should. Because the answer to the next big problem we face might not be in front of us, but behind us.

Our two grizzly siblings? They’re thriving because they chose to work together. But why did they make that decision in the first place?

When room and board opened up in Mount Robson, they could have – should have – turned on each other. They could have competed for the glory.

However, there was one small problem with that idea.

Both bears were young, learning the ropes of life through first-hand experience and, well, didn’t weigh very much. And in football and in nature, that’s kind of a thing.

Individually, they never stood a chance. But by working together – having observed and learned from the valley’s wolf population – they knew there was strength in numbers.

That’s right: Every good decision, every good solution – especially in nature – doesn’t always start with, let’s say, the purest of intentions.

Wanting to help brother bear? That’s for Disney. Realistically, this was about brother helping brother and sister helping sister.

And why not?

They saw competitors peel away when faced with two grizzlies, not one. They realized they could hunt more effectively together – blocking escape routes of fleeing ground squirrels so the other could more easily snag the prize.

Sort of like another nature odd couple – badger and coyote.

In fact, our two bears quickly seemed to realize that to survive, they had to share – food and duties.

At a carcass, with one bear always on guard, the other could focus on feeding. And by ensuring they always switched responsibilities, both got the food they needed to grow bigger. Which matters. After all, if one bear falters, both will – it’s in their best interest for both bears to succeed.

Look, realism is not evil. Realism is understanding different realities – and a difficult problem – and finding a way for all parties to find victory in the outcome. And sometimes, yes, that means compromise.

Brother and sister, you see, have very different personalities. Brother is a bit cranky, reclusive even. A bit more like your stereotypical grizzly, in other words. He doesn’t like people and if he had his druthers? He’d spend all of his time in a more rural setting.

Sister on the other hand? She’s a bit more relaxed around people. Kind of a city girl at heart. She’s easy going and adaptable and – like Chocolate – understands that there are more opportunities for food in the front country – like moose killed by trucks and trains – food the two sibling grizzlies wouldn’t be able to get on their own, even as a twosome.

But front-country living? As Chocolate learned the hard way, it has its decided disadvantages as well. That means when sister is indulging, wary brother is on the lookout – and can help get her moving if she gets complacent.

Equally, if brother is sulking in the backcountry, sister knows that if she waits him out, he’ll come running. He’s nothing without his sister.

And maybe that’s the really amazing part of this story.

Just because problem solving often starts with a cold, hard math equation, doesn’t mean the final equation is only about numbers. Often, it’s relationships that are at the heart of ideas that endure.

See, it’s one thing for the two bears to have stuck together for their first year on their own.

But the second? And the third?

If not for a real, true relationship, why, when the season turns, do they not go their separate ways?

Correct: Brother and sister are roomies – year in, year out – sharing their long winter slumber with each other.

And when they wake and work to maintain their dominance on the landscape, it’s about focusing on food goals, of course, but fun is allowed too.

If they’ve been apart, even for just a few hours, they show their appreciation for what they have when they reunite. They show their joy. They play.

Will this always be the case? Will they always enjoy each other’s company?

Who knows?

But no matter what happens, the lesson remains: Problem solving requires creativity. Decision-making requires realism and focus. And lasting change? It requires relationships.

It’s why our two bears have so much to teach us.