On September 11, 2001 Americans were reminded that, we, too, were vulnerable. Our place on the totem pole shifted. One year later, I found myself before a group who had gathered to consider lessons learned, not only as a collective body, but as individuals. Seven years later, we do well to contemplate the same question, hopefully in ways that will leave us feeling more hopeful, less discouraged, despite the fact that we are struggling not only as a divided nation, but as a world.
Perhaps this is what draws us in droves to events like the Olympic Games. What is it that we find so mesmerizing, so uplifting about record setters like Michael and Tori? What is it that quickens our own pulse, and fills us with such pride? In every acorn there lives the oak.
While we might never be Olympic athletes like these, or even close, we do have one thing in common. We dream. Even if we may have mislaid our dreams for a spell. Despite our 'reasons why' we might not have the results we might say we want, be it at work, at home, with our health, our wealth, and in our community of neighbors and friends, it is in our nature to dream. Whether we admit it or not, we know we can 'do better.' And, we know that to do so, like the gold-medal winners, we've got to be willing to come to the edges of ourselves right out there past the limb where we've resided, dust off our courage, and take a leap of faith.
By faith, meaning, we've got to trust, despite all lack of apparent evidence, that our lives were meant for more. Not the sort of 'more' in the things department, although there is that, too. Rather, I mean, there is more life to be experienced, if we would give ourselves permission to reinvent ourselves. And this brings us to the bigger 'more': that little issue of knowing that we could make a bigger contribution, if we had greater faith in the notion that we came here with a greater purpose, and don't just leave that to Lady O (Oprah), and crew.
Now, I know that some of you might be saying: 'Sure, I'd do more, if I had more. Then, if I had more, and could do more, then I might be able to be more. There's nothing I can do.' And, I also know, that if this is your stance, then hearing repeats of "We must be the change we wish to see in the world," like Gandhi said, might just give you cause for rebuttal that goes something like: 'Sure, fine for him to say, but I need more x (money, education, charisma, power) before I can 'be the change I want to see in the world.' All I'm saying is, maybe you've got it backwards. Add me, too, to the list, when I come across a broken dream of my own for which I've neglected to take full responsibility.
Thank heaven we are surrounded by teachers. People you and I know who are Olympians in 'coming to the edge' of themselves, and how they've known themselves historically to be. Because that is what edge places require. I need only think of my friend Laurel, for example. Recently, Laurel died of an aggressive cancer. Over the last months of her life, I saw Laurel again and again come up against her incapacity to operate as before. Despite this, her Spirit gave new meaning to the word 'strong.' One day, I asked her what made this possible. Her answer:
"I look at this whole process as a new frontier. I've never been here before. It's like I'm just a little further down the road and I'm checking it out. I'm going to miss my family and friends terribly when I go, but this is where I am, and what are you going to do? I figure, if it is where I am, then I should do my best to explore it, and take heart that I am still here, that I did get to see the sun rise this morning, and right now, I am with you. What's so bad about this? It only gets lousy when I compare. That is a dead end street."
Right up until the day she died, Laurel was at work reinventing herself from the ashes. Even though what she'd been handed did not correspond to her dream for her life, she took it as a learning curve in her curriculum. In life, death and dying she was a champion. She lived, as she died, consciously, creatively, whole-heartedly. This was her greatest contribution.
The Four Keys
1. Exploration. Explore what is before you with courage. Maybe it seems a 180 degree departure from what you'd dreamed for yourself.
2. Trust the process. Given the present unexpected chapter in your life, how could you 'live large' in it?
3. Permission. What permission do you need to give yourself to shed your self-limiting beliefs that are holding you back from a more helpful attitude towards yourself?
4. Contribution. Those brave passengers who brought down the terrorist's plane they were aboard, rather than giving into demands, transcended their own need for safety. Their contribution was based on ascribing to a greater good. What greater good do you need to hold as your focus, in order to contribute to others out of your present situation?