When I was about seven years old, I went with my family to a lake in the mountains. There was a little rowboat floating in the shallow water near the shore, so I jumped in and started playing in it by myself. I don't remember how, but the boat capsized and I suddenly found myself underneath it, unable to breath. My brain went into panic mode and all rational thought was shut down. I needed oxygen- which lay just inches above my head- but there was an obstacle between us. I needed to remove that obstacle. Desperately, I began to try and lift the boat up out of the water so I could take a breath. I pushed until my arms ached, but it wouldn't budge.
Still hopelessly pushing, it suddenly occurred to me that I didn't need to lift the boat off of me to reach the surface. I wasn't trapped, I just needed to dive down a little bit and simply swim away.
Had I continued to push on that boat for much longer I would have passed out and probably drowned. Getting out of the situation alive required the following paradigm shift:
Instead of struggling to swim upward, I had to swim downward to reach the surface.
Perhaps on another post, I will elaborate on that last sentence. For now, I think it's worth leaving with you to ponder on your own.
Time's list of the top 20 most influential Americans. The article provides a brief wiki-esque overview of some important people in US and world history. Worth a read if you have a minute.
It has been one week since Marissa Mayer assumed the role of chief executive officer of Yahoo. Mayer - who is currently six months pregnant with her first child - has been the target of a barrage of chatter and criticism surrounding her ability to both lead a struggling company and raise a child. I personally believe that her appointment symbolizes a milestone for women's issues in corporate America. I appreciate the faith that the board of directors placed in her despite her decision to balance motherhood and career.
I recently visited Walden Pond for the first time and
touched some of the rubble of Henry David Thoreau’s simple home. Near the rubble stands a sign bearing a
famous line from Walden “I went to the woods because I wished to live
deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not
learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had
not lived.”
I have read and reflected upon this sentence during several
intervals of life. Each time I read it the
words pierce through any comfortable routine I have created and push me to
question what it means for me to live deliberately. I find it hard to make out a crystal clear image
of a deliberate life.
Over the last few years I have had to make some very
difficult decisions about what living deliberately means to me. My intuition and sense has guided me a few
scary steps into the dark.
“One cannot expect to
discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very
long time.”
-Andre Gide
With All My Love – the final track on our recent mini-album –
describes some of the heavy fears and hopes I have wrestled with as I have
tried to understand myself in relationship to other people and the world. I
wrote the song as the experiences of a few confusing years converged into a
metaphoric chemical reaction; the result was a new song – my favorite to date –
and a guiding epiphany:
Ultimately I want to have exceptional relationships with
people that bring out the best in me and pursue activities and dreams that are
meaningful to others and me. Nearly everything
else remains unclear.
Not unlike many others, as a young
college student, I was obsessed with the process of self-discovery.
I was deeply influenced by stories like Herman Hesse's Siddhartha.
I would wander off into the mountains for long stretches of time in
and effort to “find myself.”
Lately, I am becoming interested in a
more challenging, yet more rewarding process of discovery: the
process of discovering others. This is not easy to do. We tend to
see the people around us as merely playing a role in our own lives.
Once these roles are cast, true discovery can rarely take place.
How do we overcome this tendency to
cast the people in our lives into these confining roles? How do we
better discover their true worth and true beauty?
The song With all my Love describes
this problem and hints at a possible solution. The song describes a
dream in which Michael is floating on a boat off the
shore and sees hundreds of people on a beach. He desires to truly
connect with these beautiful people, but finds himself drifting
farther and farther away. “I tried to wave, but they didn't see me.
Still, I'm not sure I was seeing them.”
In the end of the dream, the only way Michael feels he can reach across the distance and connect with these people
is to share a part of himself. He knows that he won't reach everyone,
but is content to touch anyone.
I have found recently that as I am
willing to open up and share my true self with others, they in turn
have opened up and shared amazing things with me. Through this
process of trying to discover those I love, my relationships have
been strengthened and I've gained new insights. We have grown together, instead of growing apart.
