WHAT CAN ONE PERSON DO, I’M ONLY ME…
…POWER TO THE PEOPLE, WE ARE THE PEOPLE,
WE ARE THE WORLD
I have tried to be Miss America more than once. Who can blame me? She always epitomized perfection: pretty, adored, graceful, talented, nice, smart, wise. She had her own crown, her own bouquet of red (were they red?) flowers, and her own Song. There She Goes, Miss America.
When I was eight years old I looked forward to spending the evening watching the Miss America pageant. I remember the Miss America who did a wardrobe demonstration, who sang with a ‘dummy,’ who broke tradition with her gold formal gown, and who cleverly solved the problem when questioned about breaking the heel of one of her high heels on the runway during the bathing suit competition. “Kick off the other shoe,” she said. High heels and bathing suits are a ridiculous combination anyway. I loved them all. Most of all I loved the way their eyes glistened as the audience showered them with adoration while Burt Parks sang, Theeeere she is….
When the pageant was over, I would run off to my bedroom and sit spinning in the aquamarine chair dreaming about the day I would become Miss America. As the magic of the idea took hold, more than once, I rose from the chair, stared out at my future adoring audience, and walked the runway between the twin beds in my room, holding my bouquet, waving my arm smoothly and regally, and holding back the tears of joy, my eyes glistening just like the eyes of the new Miss America I had helped elect in front of the television in the living room. I was ridiculous. But I doubt I was the only ridiculous eight year old. And nine year old. And ten, eleven,…I needed all the practice I could get.
I never entered a beauty pageant. I never really missed being in a beauty pageant. Nevertheless, I felt a pang of sadness in my mid-twenties when I realized my Miss America chances had truly faded forever.
I have been saddled with big dreams all my life. I didn’t just want to be a good teacher. I wanted to be the most popular teacher. I wanted to be Teacher of the Year. I wanted other teachers to come to me for help. Ridiculous. I didn’t just want to sell houses. I wanted to be on the Million Dollar list of Realty Executives. I wanted to sell more houses than anyone, to sell houses to important people, to give seminars on all of the tips I had for others who were trying to sell houses. Ridiculous. I didn’t just want to be a good mom. I wanted to have twelve children, to bake delicious berry pies on a wood stove while singing lullabies to sleeping babies, to have all of my twelve children become President of the United States and say they owed it all to their mom-ME. Ridiculous. I wanted to save the world. Ridiculous.
What a disappointment it was when I finally realized that I was just going to end up being a person. What a letdown it was when I finally realized how difficult it was for me to be merely good at teaching, selling houses and mothering children. What fear I have felt at times, realizing how far I fall short of even being good. How do people get to be Miss America when I have so much trouble just being a person?
And when the going got tough…Nope. The tough didn’t get going. Oftentimes it was easier to think, “What difference does it make?” If I can’t be Miss America, why bother? Who’s going to notice anyway? Everyone else can be Miss America, Mr. America, Company President, Teacher of the Year. Let them do it. I didn’t give up physically, but there were many days when I gave up mentally, spiritually.
You my children have both been my savior more than once. I could have been a teacher to hundreds of kids, but you are the kids who matter most to me. Five years ago, life had pushed me to my limit, and I was just short of collapsing under the weight of my failure to meet challenges I had so wanted to accomplish. Early one morning at 4:00 a.m., unable to sleep, I sat in the blue stuffed chair reading The Bible, Psalm 49. God’s voice reached out to me and literally lifted my eyes off the page. “He’s talking to me,” I realized. I looked back to Psalm 49 and began reading again. “Yes, there, he said it again. He’s pointing his finger at me!” And suddenly, I realized that God had never asked me to be anything other than a person. In fact, he was wondering when I was going to get my mind off the roses, the crown, and the song and begin paying attention to what really mattered–you, my children, my family.
What good would it be if I did save the world, if I ended up sacrificing the two of you in the process. And, if I did manage to help save our small family, if that were my only accomplishment in life, why had I not realized the joy and glory that could be found in such an accomplishment. In that instant, I raised my eyes to God and promised him I would take my eyes off the crowds, off the awards, off the world, and look only and specifically to the people who depended on me–you.
My goals today are so small that it’s hard to even realize that they’re goals. Maybe it would be wonderful if I were ‘great’ enough to set goals of being Mrs. America. But if I can only end my life achieving the little goals, I will feel a sense of satisfaction, accomplishment, and joy. And it’s in the small mistakes I make each day when I realize my ‘little’ goals are big enough:
- to wake each day with appreciation for my blessings
- to wake each day thinking only good of my fellow man, each fellow man
- to wake each day treasuring and caring for my health and my mind and my soul
- to wake each day contributing a kind word to someone who needs it
- to wake each day trying to understand someone who is hard to understand
- to wake each day giving the day my best effort
- to wake each day willing to forgive myself when I fail and willing to start over
- to wake each day realizing that there are many people to thank for helping me when I do succeed
- to wake each day with thanks…and
- to wake each day with a prayer for myself, for you, and for everyone, Amen.
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Stephen R. Covey
The power to create quality of life is within us–in our ability to develop and use our own inner compass so that we can act with integrity in the moment of choice–whether that moment is spent planning the week, handling a crisis, responding to our conscience, building a relationship, working with an irate client, or taking a walk.
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