Defy Gravity

“Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.” – Sydney J. Harris

Defy Gravity

The received photo was of a beautiful scene.  It was also a description of regret and promise.

Regret because it was a solid reminder that summer was over.  The season had turned to fall.  Yellow, gold and green foliage burst beneath an azure blue sky with a double dose of color.  Double because the colors also reflected off of the water which lapped near the roots of the showy trees.  Some leaves were drifting from lofty heights toward the ground and water below as if to speak as a hint.  While the season was still solidly in the middle of fall, winter was surely coming soon and there was a tinge of regret for things undone during the summer.

It had been a wonderful summer.  Yet, the scene captured in the photo brought to mind a quote from Sydney J. Harris.  “Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.”

The enjoyment of summer’s pleasure was at an end to be sure.  Outdoor swimming pools were now closed.  Romantic sidewalk cafes were no longer offered as a rendezvous place with loved ones.  And, picnics spread under tall trees on the comfort of green grass are now at pause.  Of course, you and I enjoyed these activities, but never enough.  Hence, inconsolability.  And, the bright, colorful leaves floating on the crisp air were also speaking of promise.

Holly Mabery, who was speaking to me just yesterday of eating the frogs of life first, also spoke of such promise as my mind was floating between the photo’s images of fall foliage and our conversation about how to change one’s relationship to gravity.  “We don’t rise to the level of our goals, but fall to the level of our habits.”  She said.

Habits, like the changing seasons most often continue with hardly a thought.  Still, there are some common reminders to remind us that one isn’t necessarily bound to them as if by gravitational force.  New Year’s resolutions are one seemingly universal example.  Of such, Holly paused in her speaking, just before she asked me an important question.

“Why wait for a specific moment to make a change?  You have the power to make the change in this moment.”

We are what we repeatedly do.  Our lives are but a collection of our own repetitively.  So, how do we live a life filled with less regret?  How do you and I exit the gravitational pull of wrote, reactionary living?  We simply choose to defy gravity.

Defying gravity could also be characterized as living life with our desired ending in mind.  And, just like there are seasonal stages, there are distinct stages in defying gravity.

Master. Mentor. Make a difference.

First, master the art of caring for people.  Putting people first is the greatest attribute of leadership. This is demonstrated by showing others that you want them to succeed as much as you want to succeed yourself.

Second, mentor others, where ever you are.  Actively reach out to the people you live and work with. Make a point of passing what you’ve learned personally and professionally on to them.

Third, make a difference by creating a thoughtful legacy plan.  Ask yourself, “How do I want to be remembered?”  Then, go out every day and create new habits, habits that will accumulate to create the person you’ve dreamt of becoming.

The dreamy photo I received electronically was of a beautiful fall scene; one to be remembered for sure.  It was also a vision of regret and promise.

Regret because it was a solid reminder that summer was over.  The season had turned to fall.  Yellow, gold and green foliage burst beneath an azure blue sky with a double dose of color.  Double because the colors also reflected off of the water which lapped near the roots of the showy trees.  Gravity was causing some leaves to drift from lofty heights toward the ground and water below as if to speak as a hint.  While the season was still solidly in the middle of fall, winter was surely coming soon and there was a tinge of regret for things undone during the summer.  And, just like there are seasonal stages, there are distinct stages in defying gravity.

Master, Mentor. Make a difference.  Defy gravity!

Breadcrumbs

“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you start to be happy.” – Night Bird

Breadcrumbs

When she came out onto the stage she just stood there looking strangely confident and fearful at the same time.  I’m pretty sure no one in the audience knew anything about her.  Not one of us knew anything about her personally or professionally.  And, no one had any idea of her story of life.  Not just her life, but everyone’s life.

“This is an original song.  I’m Night Bird.”  She said in a gentle voice as she looked out against the lights glaring into her eyes.

For some reason, at that moment, I don’t know why, I thought of my friend Scott Banning as her words wafted into my ears.

“It was time for me to save myself.”  Scott once said to me as he described the hard choices he had recently made in his life.  “Some don’t do it in time.  Then one day comes and their time has passed.  They can’t turn their lives back toward safety and happiness.  They don’t know how to get there anymore.  They can’t see the path.”

Night Bird’s path was being sung to everyone in the audience.  But, I don’t know if they heard her giving out the breadcrumbs that would allow them to save their own lives, to find personal happiness.  I heard them though.  They spoke to me as small pieces of truth, crumbs to follow toward saving my life and their lives too; to find happiness again, or for the first time.

Crumb One.  Look outside.  Or, maybe a better way of saying this is, don’t look through your own eyes without seeing.  Become a witness to what others around you are doing, what they’re going through.  Then, do small things to help in the moment.

Give someone who has fallen a hand-up.  Greet a passerby with a smile and a cherry hello.  Catch someone else doing good.

Crumb Two.  Look inside.  Take time to feel grateful for everything you have.  Try it.  It will open you up to receive new opportunities.  Or, maybe it will just open your eyes to see options to sing a new personal story, one not visible through cloudy eyes?

Crumb Three.  Remember that everyone has a story.  You and I just haven’t read it yet.  Until we take the time to listen to another’s story, it will remain unwritten in our hearts.  The best way to create, or deepen a relationship is to listen.

Crumb Four.  Listening is the greatest sign of personal respect.  It’s also the gateway to kindness.  Who doesn’t want to be kind to someone else upon walking in their shoes for a while?  It’s a proven conduit to empathy and catalyst to serving others.

Final morsel. Go out and do small acts of goodness.  Yes, if you haven’t followed these breadcrumbs before, the path they lead to can be scary!  So, when you feel afraid ask, “What could this open up for me?”  Then, pick up the first crumb and try it before you stoop down to accept the next one.  

“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you start to be happy.”  She said as her musical breadcrumbs came to a melodic crescendo with a roar from all listeners.  

When she came out onto the stage she just stood there looking strangely confident and fearful at the same time.  I’m pretty sure no one in the audience knew anything about her. Not one of us knew anything about her personally or professionally.  And, no one had any idea of her story of life.  Not just her life, but everyone’s life.

Is it time to you to save your own life?

A Face of Triumph

A woman crossing the finish line during event take down.

A Face of Triumph

Potential early morning triumph brought throngs of competitors and their supporters to the town square and the finish line for an early fall marathon. People were lining the road leading to the finish line holding signs and cheering as runners charged forward toward the end of their run and the carnival-like atmosphere there, around the main stage.

That platform held a live band which was blasting music to surround everyone as they milled around, laughed and sampled products from the event sponsors.  Smiles of individual achievement were on almost every face and many people were wearing race medals around their necks which certified they had completed the course.  It was like a vast party on the square.

And, like the race, the party was coming to an end.  The racers, their supporters and the vendors began taking their success and grins toward other destinations and activities.  It wasn’t like a rush to an exit.  It was more like a trickle at first, almost imperceptible in effect, sort of like the steady stream of slower runners still pounding the street toward completion, victory and conclusion.

Soon, the crowd was gone, the music stopped and trucks were loaded with barricades, tents and all pieces of the stage.  It looked like the end of the event.  But it was neither the end of event nor the end of triumph.  As it turns out, one more competitor would cross the finish line.

Few would see her trudging forward, but there were a few.  You see, it had been hours since the first competitors completed their run for glory.  So, it had to be more than the sight of her running that caught my attention.  There was also the crisp staccato of appreciative clapping.  But, neither of those stimulants cemented the significance that this runner delivered with her finish.

It was the look on her face.  Hers was the genuine face of triumph.

Potential early morning triumph brought throngs of competitors and their supporters to the town square and the finish line for an end to an early fall marathon. People were lining the road leading to the finish line, holding signs and cheering as runners charged forward toward the end of their successful run.  It was a carnival-like atmosphere there around the main stage.

Now that stage was gone.  The metals had been awarded and the crowd had vanished.

“Too bad!” I thought.  “They missed what very few saw; an improbable victory.”

It was not a victory over others.  It was a victory of one, the joyful face of a person who had faced true struggle and defeated it.  It was the look of satisfaction.  She, the last runner to finish, displayed the face of triumph for all of us, because many of us have been in her shoes.  I know I have.

I treasured the sight of her victory because it reminded me of the value of such personal triumph.  It resonates with the heart.  Her amazing finish displayed the gratification of completing something no one else thought she could.  It personified the rewards of defeating one’s own self-doubt.

The last runner to finish the race wore the face of triumph for herself and for all of us.

With Open Arms

“He called.  I borrowed a trailer and drove to Michigan immediately.” – Tracy Di Nardo

With Open Arms

“I’ve always thought the most important thing is to show my children consistent, unconditional love.”  Tracy explained.  “That way, they’ll come to understand you’ll really, always be there for them.”

Then, there was one day, when her only son suddenly packed his things and left their home with hardly a word.  All Tracy and the others in her family knew was that he was going to Michigan to live with some girl and her parents.  People they didn’t know.

“It caught us by surprise!  Completely!”  Tracy said.

This wasn’t only a love challenging circumstance for Tracy alone.  It deeply affected the whole family, making them all question their relationship with the young man.  It caused them to question their own actions over a lifetime of about twenty years.  But, it never caused Tracy to question her love for her son!

“It’s one thing to espouse a core principle such as unconditional love when your belief has never been contested!  Then, something challenges you.  Hits you right in your heart.  That’s when you face a ‘gut-check’ moment.  The moment you’re forced to look deep inside your heart and ask, ‘do I really believe this?’”  Tracy imparted.

Her anguished questioning didn’t last for a day or two.  It didn’t even last for a month or two.  It lasted for more than two years.  Two years of worry, guilt, introspection, and of course, great hope.  What did she do?

First, she reminded herself of her core belief every single day.  An undying belief that her love for her son was indeed unconditional.  “I had to stop all thoughts of punishing him!”  She said.  “I said to myself, this is your chance to walk your talk!  It taught me a lot about myself, my beliefs, and what true love is.”

Second, she constantly reached out to her son to reassure him of her presence.  She wanted him to know she was still there for him and she would never abandon him.  “I did this on an almost daily basis.  At first, there was hardly a response from him.  But, after a couple of years of continued, faithful effort, I think he began to believe me.  And, to believe in me.”  Tracy shared.

Finally.  She seized opportunity.  “I’ll never forget the day my son called me and said, ‘I made a mistake!’ can I come home?”  

“He called.  I borrowed a trailer and drove to Michigan immediately.”  Tracy said.

It took her two days to drive from Utah’s Wasatch Mountains to Michigan.  When she arrived at her son’s residence they embraced.  She said, “Once he was in my arms again I didn’t ever want to let him go!  But, oh yah, there was that additional driving I needed to do!”

“I’ve always thought the most important thing is to show my children consistent, unconditional love.”  Tracy explained.  “That way, they’ll come to understand you’ll really, always be there for them.  And when that moment comes.  That moment when your lifetime of talking ends and your unconditional love is wholly accepted by a loved one, as an undeniable truth; that moment provided the most powerful emotion I’ve ever experienced!”

Talking really does end with a genuine offering of open arms!