Before we headed into the park, I spent a bit of additional time hanging out with my cousins’ six month old son (in all honesty, my brother and I “borrowed” him and walked him around the hotel for a bit, eventually ending up in our room). All of my cousins have super cute kids. I’ve mentioned this fact on a regular basis. As I hung out with the newest addition to the family, I was fascinated.

He was on the verge of crawling.

But he wasn’t crawling yet. Seriously, he is so close. I wouldn’t be surprised if he starts crawling moments after I post this blog, but on Sunday, he still wasn’t there.

He was almost there.

It was a sight to see. There he was, using every ounce of strength to lift himself up, or try to pull himself forward, or try to kick his legs as hard as he could–it just wasn’t all coordinated yet.

He could move a little bit forward, occasionally grabbing a desired object, but only occasionally. He’d sometimes roll to get to some place, but he still couldn’t quite crawl…

…yet.

We would all encourage him, and for a minute or so, he’d give it everything he got, until he final gave up in frustration or minor exhaustion. He might try again thirty minutes later, but he still couldn’t do it (yet).

So I sat there, watching him, and thinking about effort.

I saw him truly give it everything, and I honestly couldn’t think of a time in recent memory where I pushed myself to that degree. I couldn’t think of a time in recent memory where I pushed myself so hard that I truly grew in the process.

Yes, I’ve taken on challenges. Yes, I’ve reached new goals.

But I don’t think I’ve pushed myself to that level.

I read an article a few years ago about the development that takes place in that first year of life. We learn a new language. We build new relationships. We identify objects. We go through massive amounts of strength building. It’s really incredible. The article described the development as the equivalent of training for a 100+ mile run, increasing your weight lifting 4-5 times over, and becoming fluent in 2-3 languages while reading a novel a day (I may be slightly off in my statistics, but you get the idea). All of this happens in a very limited period of time.

And then we grow up.

And sadly, we get a little too comfortable.

So today, I want to challenge you to crawl forward again.

Pick up a new goal this year. Pick up a new challenge. Push yourself to do something extreme.

I’m going to think about this for a bit, and hopefully announce a cool challenge that I’ll take on. Let me know what you decide to do even though you might not have accomplished it…

…yet.

I’ve been thinking a lot about our life stories or our personal narratives over the past few days. I spent the weekend at the Northern California Youth Leadership Seminar, a conference for high sophomores. I’ve speak at the conference every year and have really developed some great friendships with the volunteer staff, prompting me to expand my visit at the event this year. In the opening session, Seminar Executive Director Dan Vu discussed the idea of shaping our stories. He alluded to our tendency as people to repeat our own plotline or to assign character traits to others without considering their story. His challenge for the weekend was to consider the story of others and to consider the posibility for the story for ourselves.

I spent that day listening to the other keynote speakers present. I heard Anthony Rapp, the original Mark in the Pulitzer Prize Winning Musical RENT, describe the legacy of story shared by Jonathan Larson as well as the need for each of us to make our story more than just an engaging narrative. I heard from Congresswoman Jackie Speier, a survivor of a murder attempt at Jonestown, who turned incredible setbacks and hardships throughout her life only enhance her desire to serve, rather that end it. I listened to Scott Backovich describe the need for each of us to be catalysts in our community.

And then it was impossible not to hear from the students.

It was evident as the conference continued that the rough draft desires for their lives were being revised into purposeful plots. There was an opportunity to Write the Future.

I know at times it feels like the future cannot be changed. Perhaps we look ahead at a perceived reality, disappointed by lack of happiness or joy, its drought of success, and its absence of purpose. Like Wayne Rooney in the Nike Ad, we hate what we see.

The question becomes: are we prepared to run full force or change it?

Are we prepared to dig deep?

Are we prepared to push?

Are we prepared to strive?

Are we prepared to write the future?

“Second Chance Points”

Duke missed its first shot on a regular basis, but through a rebound and a quick pass, the team scored several three point shots, several field goals, and ultimately won the game.

While we often talk about a teams ability improve on rebounding, we don’t tend to do this in our own lives. We put a bunch of effort into an initial drive, but once there is a setback, we often give up.

It’d be weird to see a player in March Madness attempt a shot, miss it, and immediately head to the bench. Baylor, even when down by eight with just over a minute to go still fought hard.

We need to as well.

Grab that rebound and try again.

The elliptical I used today was in perfect view of the Kids Club at my gym. I find it to be a hilarious scene, often times with the biggest, toughest guys in the gym transforming into their “daddy” roles, or a gaggle of kids emerging with an exhausted mom who probably enjoyed her only “me” time of the day. Today, one of the little guys caught my eye.

He couldn’t have been more than one and a half. He was small, wearing those funny baby pants that would be shorts on any normal human being, but fit babies perfectly. He stood at the door. His dad was in the process of checking him out of the club, but seemed to be having a conversation with the babysitters. The little guy wanted out.

Over the course of five minutes, he attempted over and over again to open up the door. He’d stand on his tippy-toes, grab the handle, and bring it down, only to be confused by what to do next. He looked directly at me a few times, apparently in hopes of getting a clue, but I didn’t think assisting in an escape was my best option. After every attempt, he’d look back at his dad–not to get sympathy, but to check if anyone was watching–and then try again. A few times he almost lost his balance, but he never fell down. He just grabbed that handle and released the door, unable to physically push it open.

Halfway through this, the other kids in the room, saw what he was doing. They moved closer to the baby gate, not even attempt to grab its handle. I imagine if they could talk it would sound like that scene from The Waterboy, but they were too young, and so instead they looked at him, eyes filled with hope.

I was surprised by the little guy’s disposition. He never cried, never whined, and never gave up.

Failure.

Tippy-toes, grab handle, release door latch, and…

Failure.

Tippy-toes, grab handle, release door latch, and…

Failure.

Finally, his dad picked up his gym bag, turned around, picked up the little guy with one arm, and carried him out of the gym.

I still had some more time left on the elliptical, providing me a moment to think.

I wonder if we are still really attempting to open up the doors in our life. Sure, there are the easy ones we walk through, but are we really problem solving anymore or pushing ourselves? When was the last time you attempted something in life that required you to get on your tippy-toes, only to fail again? When you did fail, did you turn around and look for sympathy, or did you try again?

I’m not saying I’m perfect at this. To be honest, I think I’ve been waiting for some to open doors for me, but part of me isn’t satisfied with that. Part of me wants to step up and try something tougher.

What about you?

I fear though that as we enjoy this time off, we sometimes forget why today is considered a holiday. Today, we celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Rather than fill this blog with my own words, I figured his words ring truer. I hope you’ll take a few minutes today and listen to some excerpts from his amazing speeches.

One quick note before I list a series of YouTube clips, I’m struck by King’s drive and determination. I’m struck by his optimism in the face of adversity I will never experience. I’m struck by poetry in the midst of a life filled with bitter prose. I’m struck by his adherence to nonviolence even when those opposing him turn to violence far too readily.

Dr. King is a man who faced daily death threats.

Who spent time in a jail he never deserved.

And yet, he doesn’t turn to pity himself. I hate to address it on such an important day, but some of the facebook status updates I read today still included my least favorite phrase, “FML.” It was posted in relationship to finals, bad weather, or movie sell-outs. We need to remove this from our vocabulary, and find the way to approach our lives with more purpose and more poetry.

Dr. King was effective not because he complained, but because he found a way to dream.  He didn’t “wallow in the valley of despair,” he found a way to not only change his reality, but empower and serve those around him in the process–making them stronger and making their lives better.

Now to Dr. King.

If you’ve never heard the entire, “I Have a Dream Speech,” take the 18 minutes and watch it.

Dr. King’s final speech, delivered on the eve before his assassination is perhaps the most haunting. Still, there is something amazing about his ability to inspire others to pursue action after his death, making a cause bigger than him. He leaves a beautiful legacy. The backstory of this speech is also amazing. He spoke at this rally for Sanitation Workers. Dr. King spoke not just for civil rights, but he also spoke for peace and against poverty. He truly did believe in the brotherhood of mankind. Even though he felt sick this evening, even though he had a fever, even though he was tired, he rose and delivered the “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop Speech.” Here is an excerpt. The full text and longer video is available here.

Finally, something a little bit different. I’ve mentioned many times that I’m a big fan of This American Life. If you have 4 minutes, please listen to this incredible audio from the Kid Logic episode. It’s a beautiful story of a child learning about Christmas and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Enjoy the rest of your day.

But you can see from the title of this blog entry, it isn’t about The Blind Side. It’s about one of the trailers I saw before the feature. In nine days, Invictus will hit the theatres. Based on the true story of newly elected President Nelson Mandela and his challenge to unite his country torn apart by years of apartheid, the already appears to be one of the best films coming out this holiday season. The film focuses primarily on the Mandela’s seemingly strange idea to inspire and unite the country by winning the Rugby World Cup.

I watched the trailer and a phrase kept popping out as did the strange title. It took me only a matter of seconds of searching to learn that the phrases come from William Ernest Henley’s poem, Invictus. The words resonate even more when you realize that Henley wrote them from a hospital bed, on one of his frequent visits (he had one foot amputated, and was likely fighting the amputation of his second foot when the poem was written). Still, Henley writes:

OUT of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

The last two lines jumped out of me during the trailer. Those last two lines jump out at me when I think about what Henley endured.

I think for many, 2009 was still a very rough year. The economy isn’t full recovered and a lot of us simply feel a certain burden. News reports about the holidays seem to always transition to pocketbooks. People are in jobs they don’t necessarily like because they are afraid they can’t get new ones. People want to be charitable, but they aren’t sure if they will be the one needing charity soon. And that’s just the economy… that doesn’t even consider war, the healthcare debate, our divided country, etc. It’s a stress. It’s a burden. It’s preventing us from fully living.

I don’t want to gloss over and say that life is easy or that life is perfect. I’ve had several close friends negatively impacted by the economy. Others are currently serving overseas. When I watch the news, I can link the news story to a close friend or relative and it adds.

But then there is Mandela, there is Henley, and a poem called Invictus. The title is latin for “unconquered.” There are many burdens that we will bear. Life will be tough at times, and in those times, we must ask ourselves if we will be conquered or if we can be “masters of our fate.”

]]> http://www.pmaurer.com/invictus/feed/ 1 http://www.pmaurer.com/what-are-you-cooking/ http://www.pmaurer.com/what-are-you-cooking/#comments Wed, 11 Nov 2009 09:41:33 +0000 admin http://pmaurer.com/?p=40 I flew on Air Canada to Toronto on Monday. It’s my second time on that particular airline and I’m way impressed. In addition to being incredibly clean and spacious (I was seated at the far back of the plane), every seat also included on-demand video of a variety of films, television shows, and even music. You could even pause or rewind the footage. I’m a huge movie fan–this was my airline!

I decided to watch Julie & Julia, afraid that the more violent Taking of Pelham 123 might upset the nice woman sitting next to me. I found the Meryl Streep/Amy Adams film to be quite charming. Based on two true stories, the movie weaves the real life struggles of Julia Child as she learns to cook and slowly becomes the culinary celebrity of today and Julie Powell, a struggling government worker frustrated with her daily life who decides to cook her way through Julia Child’s book over the course of a year. Both women initially lack a sense of purpose. Both women pursue their passions. Both women are hit with numerous setbacks. Both women deal with frustration. Both women eventually triumph. It’s quite engaging.

I read about most films, but really heard a heartfelt recommendation of this film back in August at a business conference I attended. The presenter described the pursuit of passion, how it is often misunderstood, the need for hunger and drive, and the joy of the film itself. I kept on saying I’d get around to seeing the film (as I’ll watch most films other than horror). When it appeared on the flight, I figured it was time to watch it.

Again, it’s an enjoyable film, but something stood out a bit more than most “enjoyable” films I’ve seen recently. It was the manner in which the women approached difficulty in their lives. At the start of the film, Julia Child is not famous. She doesn’t have a daily purpose. She isn’t incredibly respected (although she most definitely is loved). Julie Powell is not world famous. She is not rich. She hates her job. She struggles with her friends. She lacks direction.

In today’s social media age, both of these women could easily update their facebook statuses with the three letters I HATE to see on facebook “FML.” I can’t stand this expression. I see it more and more, and it honestly bothers me. I know that we have difficulties in life. I know we have struggle. I know that life isn’t easy, but I hate to see people get stuck and simply post “FML.”

These two women DON’T make FML a focus of their lives. Instead, they say, “How can I improve my life?”

Julia Child realizes she has a love of food and defies all obstacles to transform herself into a wonderful chef of french cuisine.
Julie Powell realizes she loves to cook and challenges herself to cook in one year all of the recipes from Julia Child’s book and blog about the experience.

In the process of doing this, Julie & Julia not only enrich their own lives, transforming their daily living, but they also contribute to the lives of the people surrounding them.

This motivates me. This inspires me. This makes me want to live more deliberately.

I saw this same sentiment echoed in a wonderful book I read last month entitled A Million Miles in A Thousand Years. In it, author Donald Miller realizes his own life lacks a dramatic edge–that it isn’t quite going somewhere. In the course of a year, he transforms the way he lives, improving not only physically, but mentally and spiritually as well.

We can sit in a corner and complain. There are more than enough things to make up that list. We can focus on the bad stuff in our lives. That part is easy.

However, I think we can do more as people. I think we can transform our worlds. I think we can find things that bring us joy and make that joy present for others as well. I think we can live deliberately as Julie Powell, Julia Child, and Donald Miller all did.

It’s time for us to move away from those things that make us say FML, and find ways to say, “whoa that GMH (Gives Me Hope).”

Moments before I boarded my flight, I saw those three letters present in a student’s update: GMH. I saw there is a whole website dedicated to that movement–instead of looking at the negative, it strives to find the positive in life. I hope we all head that direction.

Let’s make www.givesmehope.org, the way that we see the world. Yes, there will be struggle. Yes, there will be setbacks. Yes, things won’t always work out, but as Julia Child use to say, “Don’t be afraid!”

In order to “warm up” for the real games (i.e. capture the flag, king of the hill, slayer, etc), we played a few rounds of Zombie or “infection.” 1-2 players start off being infected–they move a little bit quicker, they take longer to kill, and they have the special sword weapon that helps them easily kill. Once they kill one of the other players, that person becomes a zombie, hunting down other players until everyone is infected.

The rounds are short and rather hilarious. Several times we ended up with seven guys pursuing one guy into the corner with him yelling at the fellow players in the room. It was crazy how quickly others became infected. The first 1-2 might take a minute or so, but after that, it was almost instantaneous. The more people playing as Zombies, the quicker everyone became one.

Again, the videogame version of this is fun, the real-life version isn’t.

No, I’m not talking about real-life Zombies (although I am a fan of those “in the event of a Zombie attack, follow me!” t-shirts). I’m referring to how quickly negativity and apathy spread around our schools and organizations.

I was recently at a leadership conference where I heard student leaders say, “No one on our campus would do this. No one ever participates.”

I do not doubt that participation is a struggle for most organizations. There is a reason that businesses spend huge sums of money marketing their products, hoping to get consumers involved with them.

I’m not a fan of the negativity though. When we give up and just wave that white flag, of course the negative forces around us will dominate. It’s so easy to be infected with apathy. The challenge is for us to infect those around us with something more positive.

During some of the rounds of Halo, my friends–knowing I’m awful at the game–would give me a tips about the best weapon to get, where to find a shield, or perhaps how I could help them with a quick attack campaign. Sure, my character still died more than most players, but during these tip rounds, I could stay afloat a little bit longer.

Again, I’m not the best at the game, but I like people with whom I can play the game.

Our challenge as leaders is to take “the game” (school, projects, work, etc), and find ways to make it more appealing. Some of our peers are just trying to stay alive. Some are trying to develop a skill. We need to make it fun.

There are far too many forces making things negative and the more people infected by it, the tougher it’s going to be.

We need to launch that campaign of positivity.

Comprised of footage often shot by Steve-O himself, the program doesn’t blink as Steve-O’s life goes increasingly off-track. You see him torment a neighbor to the point that the police come and arrest Steve-O. You see him sit in a room surrounded by empty nitrous cansister. You see him argue with himself and spasm from his drug abuse. You see his stunts get more dangerous and his thoughts more suicidal. It reaches a point where the fellow Jackass performers finally do what no one else could do—they stage an intervention.

It’s the only part of the documentary that really lacks footage. The guys come in, turn off the camera, and begin the process for Steve-O to turn his life around. There is a brief frame of Johnny Knoxville in the second before the camera shuts off where you see there is more emotional pain in the eyes of Steve-O’s friend than any physical pain he ever experienced from any crazy stunt for their tv show. It’s true that the Jackass guys weren’t always the best friend they could be for Steve-O. They do say, “we were the guys that put him in the hospital” and they mean both sides of that statement. However, when necessary, they stepped up to the plate.

The famous Dr. Drew says they saved Steve-O’s life.

I guess my question is—are you able to be that friend for someone else? No, not the enabling friend who encourages bad behavior, but rather the one who will call someone out, and, more importantly, support them in the necessary transition and transformation.

I’m blessed to have a few amazing friends in my life who keep me in check. No, my lifestyle comes nowhere near Steve-O’s (I’ve never done drugs and rarely drink alcohol), but if I ever stumble into a place of laziness, self-pity, or apathy, my friends call me on it. They are definitely the friends who are there when the “cameras are on” and we’re celebrating the joys of life, but they are also there for those moments when life might be stuck in doldrums and the cameras are off. I know I’m a better person because of them.

Steve-O ends the documentary by saying he isn’t cured—that his struggle with sobriety will be a life long process—but now he knows his friends support him in this new journey.

I hope we all can support our friends as well & have them know it too.