The other day as I sat for breakfast at my Okinawan hotel, I opted to wear my Strawberry Shortcake sweater. One of the staff members freaked out. She loved Strawberry Shortcake, remembering from her childhood. She spent half of it in Okinawa and half in America (specifically North Carolina), she recalled other favorite cartoons from that era: My Little Pony and Care Bears. I asked how old she was, she didn’t want to say, but admitted to be 46. “I am 45, we are the same.” I further went on to try to connect with other beloved animated characters from that era, which included He-man and his sister She-ra, and Jem.
What was interesting is I had just recently bought this sweater prior to coming to Japan. She showed me her water bottle, also Strawberry Shortcake, and an I phone case she made with the same image. She admitted as she got older, and her children aged, this was her time to embrace what she loved in her youth. It was interesting, because earlier in the week, I just purchased a Hello Kitty keychain and was debating to go into town to get a Hello Kitty hat and a Monchhichi purse, both paraphernalia for us 80s kids. But now I had validation, it was totally ok to get this. A kindred spirit was doing the same thing on the other side of the world. She deeply connected with Strawberry Shortcake, as it was not easily found in stores in Japan and was special to her experience. She had to search this out. Although Hello Kitty was universal, Monchhichi wasn’t. I was doing the same thing in Okinawa.
I opted to share with her the California Strawberry Festival which occurs annually near my current residence. The irony is one of her co-workers had a similar growing up experience. He was born in Okinawa, but moved to California when his mother remarried. He lived in nearby town to me for 15 years. I told her that her colleague was from the same area, and I showed her pictures of the strawberry attire people wore, the strawberry desserts that were served, and the cute crocheted Strawberry hat I bought. She immediately wrote it down to research later, and vowed she would go one day. I have no doubt in my mind that one day she will pilgrimage to this festival wearing Strawberry Shortcake attire. Travelling reminds us of diversity, but it also reminds us of the similarities we hold. And this week was evidence of that.
It didn’t start off as a pilgrimage. Initially I was going to have a relaxing day in town, and opt for the local spa. I heard there was an onsen (Japanese spa) that allowed one to have tattoos. I asked the front desk of my hotel to confirm this and if there was availability. The staff member queried how many tattoos I had. “Six” I replied, when really it was closer to 8. He asked the question, then shook his head, I was informed tattoos were allowed, but the cap was 2. I had been warned about hiding my tattoos in Japan, as it may be assumed I was part of a gang. I nodded my head, admitting slight frustration. Out of my mouth, the next question that arose “are there any bicycles left to borrow?” Yes, there were three currently for hotel guests to use. I had to go somewhere on my day off. I was going on an unexpected pilgrimage.
In recent days I had explored what was reasonably close to the hotel, and had noted within 2.5 miles was Futenma Shrine. This was a shrine built in the 1450s during the Ryuku era, and a US military base is located right next to it and a sacred cave underneath it. My knowledge about the shrine was limited, but I was determined to see shrine while in Okinawa. To walk to the Futenma Shrine would take nearly an hour, but one could reach it by bicycle in less than 20 minutes. Although I had a tiny cold, I opted for the bicycle route. How bad could 20 minutes be?
What I discovered was some of this route would be uphill, and the bike was a beach cruiser. There were no gears, and I am not a bicycle afficionado. And so the trek began. Once I got outside of the main streets of Chatan, nobody was riding bicycles and there were few pedestrians, as I bicycled and escorted by bicycle around the perimeter of Camp Foster. I gave myself verbal pep talks, that I could do this. I did the Camino, I got this, only one more mile to go. The projected 20 minute journey was closer to 40 minutes, as I followed google map’s route. It encouraged me to get off my bike and walk uphill on a side road, which was blocked off by flags. I circumvented this, and when I reached the top the plastic barrier was larger. I crawled under this with my bike.
A staff member said in Japanese to park my bike where I was. He probably also yelled at me for taking the side road that was covered with flags, discouraging entrance. I smiled wiped off the sweat, bowed, hoping he would forgive this unknowing American. My Japanese is minimal, but through motions we communicated. I began to walk towards the parking lot further uphill but was encouraged to go downhill to the entrance. I followed the crowd. This was a proper one day pilgrimage. Sweat and effort to go to a holy place, not knowing what to expect, reliance on others, and oftentimes language barriers.
Behold the beauty of the Shrine in front of me, but there was a separate area to the side where people were standing in line to purchase items. Was there an entrance fee? Was it souvenirs or offerings? I noticed people cleaning their hands with water in a beautiful trough. I followed what I saw. I opted to go into a room where people were waiting, everything was in Japanese. I was the only English speaker there. I asked a staff member if she spoke English, she did not but brought out another staff member. I knew there was a cave below, I queried how to get to this. “Write your name over there, wait, you will be escorted.” I followed orders, and within a minute was escorted in Japanese with three other people to the cave downstairs.
No photos were allowed in this sacred space. Although I longed to document this part of the journey, I didn’t want to disrespect the rules. Prior to entering in a single file line, the staff member bowed deeply. We each took our turns bowing to this sacred symbol, we walked further and then bowed to the cave. The staff member left us, and from what I understood we each had free time to wander the cave, pray, and be in this sacred space before the next scheduled group to arrive in 20 minutes. There were small coin offerings in little nooks, and a small mini shrine in the front. I always felt comfortable in caves, after living in Spain, and being able to visit them quite frequently. Caves with stalagmites seem to offer a living breathing holy space, where silence is encouraged in the midst of the dark corners. I admit I don’t know much about Shintoism. I noticed one woman kneeling and praying to the small altar. When she was complete, I followed suit. Internally I automatically I said the Hail Mary. I didn’t know how to worship in the confines of this religion, and therefore I thanked the world and universe for having this opportunity to visit, for who is in my life, and for life.
As my allotted time in the cave was ending, I explored what was upstairs. There was an area to pay 100 yen (less than $1) and receive a fortune, and one stash were in English. I paid the 100 yen and received an interesting fortune. As I peaked into the shrine, individual groups of families entered and had time with a staff member, who played the drums and repeated prayers for them. It seemed to be some type of honoring or blessing. As the other visitors stood outside, we each took turns giving an offering. One gives a small amount of money, bows and claps twice, then prays. I was familiar with this, as the week prior when going to the Cherry Blossom festival and climbing and visiting a small shrine in the mountain, we were taught to do this. One seemed to do this individually, with one’s partner, or as a family. Throughout the shrine, there were fortunes hung and left behind. If one doesn’t like the fortune you paid to receive, you could leave it there. I kept mine. It was too intriguing to leave behind.
I spent an hour at this shrine, and as I left there was a tiny drizzle. I mounted my bike and walked it down the blocked off side road (like a rebel), and headed back. Now the path was downhill, and the ride lasted 20 minutes. As I sat on my beach cruiser in the rain, I was pleased I pushed myself to visit this site. I smiled as I rod the path, and it was an interesting feeling this unexpected pilgrimage I took by myself. I barely spoke to anyone, as I do not speak Japanese, and had no friends or family with me. This was a memory that only I could recall in the future, as it was experienced only by me. Mental note made to remember this moment.
*I had researched afterwards the stories linked to this cave, to find out more check on the link below. The following paragraph is taken from the accompanying website:
Megami.
Initially, the first deity is a female by the name Megami. The legend goes that two sisters used to reside in the Syuri area, one being of immeasurable beauty. This was Megami, but she was also pious and devout, locking herself away and dedicating her time to spiritual pursuits. Her younger sister married, and the husband became curious of the legendary beauty. One day, he decided to sneak a peak at Megami, who caught him. She was horrified, and fled from the house in hysterics, disappearing into the caves of Futenma, never to be seen again. Since then, she has become a divine being of the cave.
Saturday Night Live has been a show I had always admired. A variety sketch comedy show with celebrity hosts, musical guests, political and social commentary, and humor that can connect a nation. Watching the show growing up was a way to connect with friends, love interests, family members, and colleagues. It blows my mind the talent that continues to hail from this show throughout the years.
Recently a film was released entitled Saturday Night about the first ever Saturday Night Live taping, and how it nearly lost it’s slot to a Johnny Carson rerun. The film follows creator Lorne Michaels and the unknown comedians that were going to change weekend television. We witness the chaos that ensues in trying to coral a group of rule breaking one liner comedians, writers, and staff before the first taping. One truly gets a sense of how much work from dozens of people that are needed to make a new show succeed, when the network expected it to fail.
As I watched the film, it reminded me how many groups of people embody a similar dynamic in their own work settings. Talent collaborating and joining together for a particular mission, despite the external naysayers who expect the worst from a group’s collective effort. This is true not just of comedians or actors, but of a front and back of the house staff at a Michelin restaurant, a Special Operations flying squadron and their maintenance crew, a psychological staff at a community mental health center, a surgical team ready to perform a difficult procedure, a spiritual retreat center holding space for retreat attendees, a fire department working overtime containing spread from a recent fire, or a group of teachers ready to start a new year. For a moment in time, these people join together for the purpose of serving others. All skills are needed, welcome, and are joined in unison.
Although I am sure the events that led to the first Saturday Night Live taping were erratic, insane, and chaotic, it can be appreciated afar. At a distance, we witness the orchestra conductor Lorne Michels hearing the notes of each of the musicians individually and collectively. There is a line in the film prior to the taping, where Gilda Radnor says to John Belushi “Do you have nostalgia for a moment when you are still in it? I mean like you are in the moment but you are also looking back on it, like right now I’m here right now, but I’m also thinking about this moment 20 years from when we’re walking by this ice rink. Maybe it’s Christmas, and our kids are dragging us by our pinkies, presents loaded on our shoulders, all we can think about is this moment right before we went on tv.” In the midst of big unifying moments, do we catch snapshots like this? Do we have nostalgia for a time as it is happening, knowing it cannot be replicated in the same way?
There’s a beauty with this film, it serves as a reminder of how we all need each other to pull difficult tasks off. We all play a role, nobody’s is more important than another. This film captures a day in the lives of people before they hit it big, their passion for the arts, avante garde thinking, rivalries, support, laughter, human struggle, and effort to bring this show onto air.
Over the years, I’ve been lucky enough to meet some actors from SNL while living in Los Angeles. People I watched in my living room during my junior high years, I was able to share my atmosphere with, just for a moment. Although I lived on 49th street in New York City, the same street as NBC studios, I never did make it to a taping. Perhaps one day, I will walk on stage where the magic has happened for decades and creatives continue to push the boundaries in an effort to make the American audience temporarily reprieve from their everyday problems and laugh. But for now I can watch this film, and appreciate the guts, glory, courage, and faith it had to put the initial production on. And in the meantime, I can take Gilda Radnor’s words of advice and have nostalgia and savor the moments I am living in as they are occurring.
On a flight from LA to Tokyo, I finally watched the Pixar film UP. Generally, I am not one to love animated films, but my brother boasted about this and I had to see it. Ten minutes into the film, I knew the entirety of it would pull at my heart (or balloon) strings.
It’s with older age, I can appreciate the rich nature that the sentimentality of these films have to offer. There’s such a bittersweetness in watching this elder character carry out his hero’s journey. The storyline begins with two lead characters, Carl and Ellie, who meet in childhood bonding over their love for adventure and explorer Charles Muntz, whose life work was to venture and conquer the unknown in South America. Within a several minute montage, one witnesses Carl and Ellie’s love affair, marriage, home renovation, career, miscarriage, celebrations, and daily rituals. We witness the characters connect, dream, deal with setbacks, surprise one another, age into their retirement years, slow down, and eventually we reach her death. Since childhood, Ellie utilized techniques of manifestation to live an adventurous life, through speaking dreams into her reality, creating a book that served as a vision board, and painting out her future reality in South America. But life gave them setbacks, whether it be their finances, health, car problems, home repairs, or other mishaps. Ellie and Carl never did make it to South America, particularly to Paradise Falls as they envisioned they would have their home one day. The lead character Carl Fredricksen vowed to carry out Ellie’s dreams which were displayed in her Book of Adventure.
As the film progresses, Carl (who appears to be his 70s or 80s) is being pushed out of the home he had built with his wife, and forced into a retirement home. Yet within him still stirs a wild desire to live life more fully, and he is willing to put up creative fight. It’s the call to adventure. A threshold is crossed, obstacles arise. Sidekicks and villains appear as we navigate being in the belly of the whale. Transformation ensues and atonement, and he eventually returns home. The whole hero’s journey was exemplified in UP.
In our own lives, although we may set out goals for how we want to lives to go, our plans pivot for one reason or another. We may meet our heroes and are disappointed. We attain our dreams, and then realize we must let them go to allow our current life to unfold. Sentient beings enter our life in unexpected ways who may need our support. We are guided and taken care of, by mentors and surprising characters. There is a realization that caring for others sometimes must take precedence over our own egoic goals.
At one point in the film, Carl is reviewing his wife’s Book of Adventure, which he assumed just included images of their travel dreams. But as he allowed himself to look further, he found she had posted images of their happy daily life together, which was full of connection and laughter. At the end of the book, she signed a message to him “Thank you for the adventure, now go have an adventure of your own.” It was her blessing from beyond. Sometimes we are living with the ghost of who we once were, in trying to honor another we can constrict what is emerging in the current moment.
There is strength in letting go of what we once hoped to allow a new creative opportunity to flow. Tears streamed down my face as the film neared it’s ending. It was surprising how poignant the life lessons that were exemplified in a cartoon. Whenever we engage with a bittersweet piece of art, we cant help but reflect on how this impact our lives. Watching films such as this can be a contemplative practice, noting how it lands with us today, what emotions arise, and how do we want to direct the narrative of our own stories from this point forward. Films such as this can be catalyst to course correct one’s journey to live in alignment with one’s current authentic values, not those of the past.
My canine companion is turning 16 years old this month. Often after people ask me about her breed and name, I am quick to also respond with her age. As I mouth the words 16, often people are impressed. They may share how old their dogs are, or if they had an elder dog, share stories of the age their dogs lived to. And there’s a moment of connection, we bond over being parents of elderly dogs.
Over the past 2 ½ years, after Puzo (my English Bulldog) died of 15 years, Bella had a difficult time adjusting. Her whole time in this world included him being in it. It was then she began howling if I left the room, because she was alone with no one in her pack. At the time we were living in Paris, and as we both grieved his loss, we would walk two long blocks to the Eiffel Tower to seek comfort in the park and the spectacular beauty of this site.
She began going with me more on first dates, time with friends, mini vacations. We drove from France to Spain, as she sat in my mother’s lap for the entire 17 hour trip. Over time, her age began showing, she no longer could jump on the couch as she used to. She would tire on our walks, and so I would carry her. People ask me often why not take a stroller, but I think she enjoys lying like a baby in my arms, half asleep, taking in the sun.
Since moving back to America this year, Bella has surprised me. She has learned to swim, learned to play a new game with treats, and taken her first selfie. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks? Bella is proof.
(Bella’s First Selfie)
This week, I had leftovers from a New Years Eve meal: Filet Mignon. She devoured pieces of it over a span of three days. Today, my friend and I went to the fancy Rosewood Miramar in Montecito. I served Bella bits of cerviche. Yes, she is spoiled, but doesn’t a 16 year old deserve this?
Two women visiting from out of state chatted with us as we left the outdoor restaurant. They noticed the satisfaction in Bella’s face. My friend was quick to offer that Bella has had a good life, the best life. And I couldn’t agree more. 16 years ago I found her stray in Santa Barbara county, and she joined me as we moved to Hawaii, LA, England, Paris, Spain, and back to California. People often ask where did she enjoy the best, but where she loves most I realize is anywhere that I am with more time off, and moments to sleep in the sun.
With that I offer a Cheers to Bella- my 16 year old chug (or puguaua) bundle of joy. And if you have a dog too, cheers to your companion and witness to the journey of your life
“When you appreciate what you have, then you will receive more. When you are in this moment feeling gratitude for this moment you actually up your vibrational signal to attract more things to be grateful for.”-Joe Vitale
Oftentimes we think manifestation is simply visualizing what one wants, taking action, and awaiting results. We often forget that one component of manifestation is being grateful for what you already have. And in doing this, you receive more of that, your heightened vibration attracts other high vibration things and people. Often we want to jump to the next thing we are desiring, without taking in what is already in our lives.
This tendency we have as humans to move quickly to the next thing reminds me of the time when I lived in England, and tried to participate in the 3 Peak Challenge. The true nature of this challenge is one tries to climb the highest mountain in Scotland, England, and Wales in 24 hours. This includes travel time once arriving at the first mountain. The group I went with, we tried to complete this in 3 days versus 1. It was interesting to note the competitors who were invested in the spirit of the challenge. They were intent of rushing to get to the peak in as fast as possible, then the bottom of the mountain with as quick of speed. Although they were exponentially quick, their pace didn’t allow them space to take in the view. They wanted to get down to the next task at hand. In reality that day, my friends and I made it up and down 2/3 mountains, and chose the day in between as one of rest and leisure. That was more our speed, and in that we were able to explore the quaint little town we were staying in Wales.
I admit I am one who tries to prepare for the next accomplishment in my life. If I am in an undesirable situation in my life, I want to jump forward to the next best thing. Yet what the law of attraction teaches us is we must truly embrace our current reality before we manifest what is next.
This holiday season was going to be quiet for me. Spent cleaning, decluttering, as I had minimal time off. I was spending it focusing on how I want the next part of my life to go. My brother joked that I was being the Grinch. He invited me to his fiance’s family house on Christmas Eve and we spent Christmas with our dogs on the beach. He and his fiancé bought me a purse that I had my eye of for years. Receiving this was a form of manifestation. The Rive Gauche Yves Saint Laurent one, as each time I looked at it, it reminded me of my year in Paris residing on the Left Bank. He told me use the purse that day at the beach. I declined, as I didn’t want to get it dirty. I wanted to wait for a special occasion to premiere the purse. He reminded me that on a daily basis he wears nice luxury items just for himself, not for anyone else or any special occasion. “You need to wear nice things even if it’s just for you.”
And so today, as I sit in a local coffee shop, I am wearing my new purse. I am noticing how I manifested this into my life. At the same time, I am appreciating what I have right now. What I brought into my life at this current moment, taking this in before I jump into what’s next.
“Everything you seek and everything you experience – everything– is inside you. If you want to change anything, you do it inside, not outside. The whole idea is total responsibility. There’s no one to blame. It’s all you.”-Joe Vitale
I’ve always been a fan of the film and book The Secret, created by Rhonda Byrne in collaboration with numerous other teachers. At the time, I was exposed to it, I was working at a homeless shelter in the Bronx. I was so inspired by it, I bought the DVD, and had a screening at the shelter with a mini workshop. I shared it with friends and parents, who implemented it into my life. And that was the initiation of vision boards in my life.
Manifestation is a tool I’ve continued to intentionally dabble with in my life, generally at this time of year. There had been some lashback over the years with the film, because of it’s focus on material things. I admit that it’s not always on the forefront of my mind of manifesting the life I want. I sometimes go by the mantra a client once said to me, “life just lifes.” Yet, over time what is becoming to become apparent is we are constant manifestors, although often unintentional.
The past several days, with preparation for the new year, with fresh goals and intentions I have been listening to interviews with manifesting teachers such as Emma Mumford, Joe Vitale, and Pam Oslie. There is a reminder that manifestation is a process, but also we are constantly manifesting without even being aware of this. Our thoughts create our reality. The reality we are living (even all that we are complaining about) we manifested this.
I had all this in my mind lately, prior to walking my dog Bella yesterday. A passing thought came of her poop bag by the side of the outside door. I kept it there and didn’t throw it away, because it was a small poop and thought I could add to it, by reusing the bag. As I opened the front door, the poop bag moved several feet to be on my doorstep waiting for me. I manifested it. It made me laughed but reminded me we manifest on all layers. However small or large. Our thoughts create reality.
Several weeks ago, I was in Santa Fe New Mexico, inspired by the communal creative vibe that exuded from that city. I went home, wanted create art, and was on the hunt to find a canvas. I stepped into various everything store shops, and couldn’t find the perfect size. After having lunch with a friend in Silverlake, in the parking lot was a new canvas and a chair, with a note from the previous owner offering his blessing of creative possibilities to the new owner. I manifested this!
If I can manifest canvases and poop bags, what else can I manifest?
I share this because the stories we hear of manifestation don’t just have to be big dramatic shifts and changes. They can, but they start with witnessing and acknowledging the small ways we manifest. It’s easy to get frustrated with what life seems to throw at us, we seem to be living the motto “life just lifes.” But we have the power to shift things. When we complain or act as the victim, we are simply bringing more energy to that situation and remain in it versus taking action. We do have the right to vent, but do we want to live in it?
And so as I write this, what will you manifest? I will end with a question one spiritual teacher Cynthia Sue Larson asks herself daily…
“A creative life is an amplified life. It’s a bigger life, a happier life, an expanded life, and a hell of a lot more interesting life. Living in this manner—continually and stubbornly bringing forth the jewels that are hidden within you—is a fine art, in and of itself.” ― Elizabeth Gilbert,Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear
Sometimes we seek out creativity without knowing what to expect. This was the case several weekends ago in Santa Fe, where my mom, friend, and I went to a free Denim painting workshop put on by the Site Santa Fe Museum (also free to visit) and 4Kinship, an indigenous owned clothing store in town. We didn’t know what we were in for, as I thought when we signed up that this would be a class to teach us how to paint indigenous designs. Instead the class offered permission and paint to design whatever your heart called for. The theme was joy.
But for before the class began the owner of 4Kinship shared a story of how she had partnered with an organization to build a skatepark on an indigenous reservation. On the inaugural day of the skate park opening, legend Tony Hawk was invited and came to skate in conjunction with all of the other skaters. The owner of 4Kinship recruited an individual Shawn, who had been skating for years, to serve as a mentor 2-3 times a week to teach and lead skating lessons. He offered through mentorship and skating, alternative ways of being and living could be discovered to indigenous youth. Another indigenous creative was there who created a bespoke skateboard company (he also happened to be half Filipino). As this story was told, the owner began to tear up, which made me want to cry out of the beauty of collaboration and commitment to community.
And here we were in a free denim workshop. She gave us permission in that moment to create for the sake of it. As we did, there was initial hesitation and trepidation, what if we paint something and it’s wrong? There’s no erasing…. But we began to follow our intuitive hits. My friend Crystal, had images of faded checkered lines on the back of her denim coat, and was advised a way to seek out those results. My mom free styled a Desigual-esque vibe, as I tried to mimic the essence of examples that were hung of denim with indigenous patterns. Beats played in the background, we all got in the zone, chatted, and painted. It didn’t matter what the results were, we temporarily were all being creative collectively. And there was such beauty in this…
Being in Santa Fe, at this workshop, then strolling down Canyon Drive with dozens of galleries, gave permission to step into my own creativity once again. It’s easy to get caught up in the everyday drama of life, focusing on the daily busy-ness of work and to dos. But to let your mind wander, let the paintbrush move on a canvas, there was freedom there. As someone who is a creativity coach, I am used to talking to people 1:1 about their creativity, but there is a sacredness in doing this in a group. Separate and connected.
As a devotee of romcoms, it seems the world is framed that the potential of romantic love is always a possibility. Fairytales mold young girls to feel as if their lives are not complete without their knight in shining armors. And so it’s easy to be feel one is always on the hunt for their other half, and as we go out and about in the world we are programmed to seek couples who exemplify this idealized standard. When we don’t find it, a sense of dissatisfaction and incompleteness can arise.
On this Saturday morning, at a chill café in Los Feliz, I did spot a handful of couples. But what I saw exemplified love to a greater intensity. It was not the cutesy couples kissing in a corner I saw. What I witnessed were tables of friendships, groups of men or groups of women meeting up to share their week’s joys, struggles, laughter, goals. And I realized this was who the majority of the customers were on a Saturday morning. This was real love. Love that is loyal, consistent, stable, kind, non-contingent, and long lasting. Friendship love.
So often we are in search of the essence of something that we may already have. Instead of worrying where one may find love, why not be love, or reside in love that is in one’s atmosphere? This could be one’s family, friends, or even pets.
As I write this, I am aware it seems Pollyanna-ish. Yet love is already all around. We may not label these interactions and relationships as such, but it offers the same warm feeling of being cared for and offers a sense of belonging. Love is a verb. Love is an action. It is not an elusive thing to grasp, and therein lies the problem. How we believe we should perceive and experience it. At the moment, we may view ourselves as lonely, but ultimately that is a choice in perception. Allow oneself to experience and feel all the way love shows up in your life this weekend. Then note how you feel. Instead of the sense of seeking, there may lie within a sense of satisfaction.
“Ultimately the bond of all companionship, whether in marriage or in friendship, is conversation.” — Oscar Wilde
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.
It Only Takes A Smile 