Earlier this week, I gave a talk to a crowd of over 60 people on mental toughness. As I prepared for this presentation, I relished in it. I love talking about the power of the mind, leading people through visualization, meditation, and talking about daily discipline. These are the types of books I have read, podcasts I listen to, or presentations that I pay to attend. I’ve had the pleasure over the years to walk on fire with Tony Robbins or hear the eloquent words of the late Louise Hay say “How you start your day, is how you live your day, and how you live your day is how you live your life.” I’ve led retreats on exactly these topics and get fired up talking about it and love sharing it.
And yet when I did the presentation, the audience was lackluster. There was minimal engagement as I walked through the crowd, and tried to get them to interact with me and what we were discussing. It was a forced workshop for this group. They were not there due to choice but requirement. Although there was applause at the end, I didn’t know if this was part of the forced expectations in this type of environment. As I briefed my colleagues in the office afterwards in regards to how this went, I was quite disappointed with the results. I let that talk go and move forward with the next tasks at hand.
Something surprised me later in the week. I unexpectedly had to meet individually with some of the people that were in the crowd for other work related reasons. As I met with them, they brought up what I had discussed in my presentation. People in the audience who showed no emotion and boredom when I talked, were actually listening and taking it in. One brought up manifestation or another himself being mentally tough but having difficulty with his spouse who is overly sensitive. One resonated with the importance of reflecting on how to make changes in his choices they made throughout the day.
This experience in some ways humbled me. I have talked to large crowds the size of 600-800 people, who were engaged and buzzing during my presentation and gave workshops frequently to USAF Special Operations. I’ve sat in audiences with some of the worlds top speakers and felt through osmosis I could get these people I was talking to excited to change their lives. But I observed minimal response. Admittedly my ego was a bit bruised, was it how I delivered the material? Was I not powerful enough? Succinct or engaging? Was this material not relatable to their everyday lives?
But it was only through small whispers did I later realize they were listening. I didn’t get the automatic crowd response I had hoped for but heard the impact in private conversations days later. And this is enough. This is the work. Not the acclaim but the tiny quiet ripple effect.
What I began to realize is perhaps the lesson in all of this is not wisdom I shared to this group this week, but not to make assumptions on the impact we have on others. Just because the initial response doesn’t look like a favorable result, there may be residual impact that lingers and emerges at a later point. We may never know the impact we have on others. I was lucky to hear comments from several people later in the week, but if I never did I would have perceived that presentation was a flop. But it did land on them. They did hear the essence of the talk.
It reminds me that whatever way that we are looking to serve the world, we may not receive accolades for the work we do. But we do make a difference. Nobody may thank us or let us know, but we impact each other. How we offer to positively shifts the world has a resonance, and don’t give up because you don’t think anyone is listening. They are, in more ways than you know. There may not be thunderous applause, but there may be shifts made.
I had taken my first and only cruise with my family over 20 years ago, and had never stepped foot on one again until this past week. The reasons have changed, I wasn’t opting for solely relaxation, family reunion, and a getaway during the autumnal months. I was looking for ways to gain access to the Travel Century Club. The reason one joins is for bragging rights to claim that you have been to at least 100 territories in the world. On this one, I would add three more to the list: Puerto Rico, St. Kitts & Nevis, Sint Maarten (the Dutch side)/Saint Martin (the French side), Barbados. This was in addition to the US Virgin Islands, to which I had already been to (St. Thomas and St. Croix). This would put me at 80, and so on a cruise we go….
Cruises seem to be made for loving gatherings of large groups of friends and families exploring the world together without having to worry about cooking, cleaning, or driving. Entertainment and activities are provided, and all that is required of you is to get back onto the ship before departure time each day. On the first day, there was a massive balloon drop, which my friend and I managed to find ourselves in the front row of the dance floor. The band played Celebration by Kool and The Gang, as we counted down for the balloon drop. The crowd screamed as we tapped the balloons to others as they fell from the ceiling slowly, then picked them off the ground to keep them from popping and kept volleyballing them to others on the dance floor. My friend and I realized we were the only adults laughing with joy as we did this. The only other people doing the same thing were children, but we didn’t care. This was wonder in action.
Since my previous cruise departed from Florida, I had a bias that a majority of my fellow cruisers would be from middle America. Surprisingly this was not the case. We left from San Juan Puerto Rico, and nearly 75% of the guests were Puerto Rican. At our evening dining table, we were the only ones not from Puerto Rico. It truly felt we were part of the Caribbean. Dance and lip sync competitions had numerous participants that hailed from Puerto Rico, as the crowd cheered. Fellow mainlanders realized they were in the minority. A middle aged white man named Kirk even tried to claim he was from Puerto Rico to gain the audience’s love and votes as he competed doing pelvic thrusts and hip sways to Shakira, Ricky Martin, and the song Gasolina. The audience and host knew the truth, saying “alright Kirk from Puerto Rico” but laughed and clapped along anyways to the ridiculous over the top court jester archetype.
As we met other guests on this ship, there were people that were regulars in the cruise life. Whether they remained loyal with the same company and earned points or shopped around dependent on the regions explored. At some point, I realized we are all reflections of each other. Two older women sat next to us, whose husbands who opted for the buffet. They solely spoke French, and I listened in and internally translated bits of their conversation. Two other older Midwestern friends sat next to us, who resided in Ohio (my home state). One lady was British, and when I shared the towns, I lived in the UK (Cambridge, Epping, and Bury St. Edmunds), we were both shocked as she revealed her father was born in Bury St. Edmunds. We all exchanged names, and when I shared my name Tricia, the other woman noted she would remember this as her sister’s name was Patricia. Patricia Ann specifically (my name is Tricia Ann), who died at the age of 44 (I am 45). She teared up as she talked about her, and for a moment I thought how she may have needed me to serve as a mirror to her sister for a momentary reflection.
Staff members we engaged with hailed from India, Indonesia, Jamaica, Dominican Republic, Philippines, and numerous other locations. A flag dance party the last night of the cruise claimed 57 countries where staff on that specific ship resided from. One waiter asked if my friend and I (both of Asian descent) if we were married to Americans, wondering how we gained citizenship. We informed him that we were born in America. This exchange served as a reminder to be grateful for my family members that made sacrifices to come to America, the land of opportunity. I am not sure the exact amount staff are paid on cruise ships, but many waitstaff particularly come from low income or third world countries. These hardworking individuals work for at least 7 months a year, with minimal days off, in hopes of financially moving ahead in their lives. Some may enjoy the lifestyle, as I met one waiter from the Philippines who has worked for this same company for 20 years. The cruise life now is his home, and his homeland is a vacation. I overheard another staff member from India saying he was retiring after 30 years of working on these cruises. “Who will you work for now?” a guest asked him. “My wife,” he said with a smile, he was looking forward to spending time with her and his adult children.
There is poignancy in small moments. One of the nights, the waitstaff walked around the restaurant, as the guests clapped for their waiters and twirled their white cloth napkins in the air as a form of gratitude and appreciation to those who served them. We joined together in a large dance of the macarena. One port held 5 cruises on St. Martin, this meant 25,000 of us went ontp the island on that one day. As one cruise ship left, phone flashlights shone waving goodbye from both ships, as crowds do at concerts. Waving farewell to strangers via phones, or when we passed them on land, reminded me of the universal urge of wanting to connect.
And one begins to realize that we are mirrors for each other. We may not be as different as we expected. The characters we observed in our fellow cruise ship passengers were all archetypes, each who exhibit aspects of us. The court jester who hammed it up for the crowds in dance competitions, the lovers celebrating anniversaries or honeymoons, the bereft who still had residual grief , the royal court who complained about everything, the sick who needed to slow down their pace even on the cruise ship due to recent surgeries, the artists that performed each night, the salesmen who lured you to their stores with raffle prize wins and deals on art auctions or jewelry, the martyrs and wounded healers as staff who sacrificed so much as they served us to make money for people back home, the anxious ones who worried about this ship’s reliability as we swayed and rocked the waves on the boat, the gamblers who vowed to win more in the casinos, and the explorers who longed to step onto new lands, We have a desire to live for something more. We are here to celebrate, to cry, laugh, dance, and connect. For a brief period we were all unplugged from the everyday devices and linked with those around via conversation, laughter, song, travel, presence, and appreciation for one another. I’ve met so many types of characters on this ship, even some characters within myself that have been dormant.
The day after the election, half of America was in shock, the other half was in glory. In work environments, we’ve been encouraged to not discuss hot topics: politics, religion, and salaries. Therefore, this was minimized, but what did take our attention was the strong Santa Ana winds that prevailed, and the smell of smoke in the air. In and out of sessions with clients, I would hear chatter that the smoke was from fires happening in the outskirts of the nearby Camarillo area. 500 acres were on fire, which quickly jumped to 1000 within the hour. Individuals who lived close to the areas affected were being told to go home and get their valuables and evacuate. Someone said aloud “oh no, my fish.” My work cellphone offered a loud warning to evacuate.
We were encouraged to download an app to get updates of the fire, and see if you were located in the next evacuation target area. I looked at the app, it looked like fires were nearing the local animal shelters, and I worried what would be their fate. It was noted that the animals were brought to a temporary place for safety. My first thoughts were my dog Bella, she was my most valuable thing I owned at the moment. I wrote down on my hand the other necessity items I would need if I had to evacuate quickly: passport, computer, ipads. But that is it. I didn’t pack a getwaway bag, but it passed through my head. My colleagues reminded me I should be okay because I live two miles from the beach, but is anyone ever fully safe?
I thought of all the people who had to evacuate, including my brother’s future mother-in-law and her husband. They recently purchased a home with acres in this targeted area. How were they doing? I observed pictures online of people watching their homes go up in flames. Throughout the day the fire grew to 10,000 acres, not contained. Eventually most of the departments at my job site were to work the remainder of the day from home to be ready for any preparations that may have needed to be made. My 15 year old dog Bella was excited to see me at the house early, and I had to calm her down as I had a therapy session to conduct for the remaining hour. Colleagues sent multiple status updates of their safety.
All the while I thought, “How do we go about our day in a normal manner?” Kids were sent home from school and school was already cancelled for the following day. Cars line the streets, everyone is home waiting for further news. It was eerie walking outside. Bella and I went to grab a coffee, she was itching for a walk along a nearby harbor. A place that was generally full of people of all ages in pairs, getting their steps in with friends or their pets. It was empty, the only other dog walker came out of his home on a boat.
The sky had pastel colors as the orange sun shone through, and I was reminded a friend once told me when the sun looks as beautiful as this the air quality is bad. She was right. The hues were pink and purple, and although one couldn’t tell by the picturesque view, the fire continued to expand.
The morning after when I awoke, it was then 14,000 acres and counting later reaching 20,000 and eventually to a 7% containment. The air now appears clear but smells of an all night bonfire. All we can do now, is send loving kindness to those impacted and the firemen and women helping those in this emergent situation.
I listened to a Metta/Loving Kindness Meditation that morning.
May we be free from suffering
May we be free from internal and external enemies
May we be happy
May we live this life with healthy bodies and happy minds
It Only Takes A Smile 