The Best in the World: Part 2

I left off my last entry wondering if it is  possible for everyone to have an equal shot at being best in the world, by successfully running his or her race in life.  If there are as many "events" in the great competition of life as there are people, it must be that everyone can be the best in the world.  In a track and field competition, can a hurdler say to a javelin thrower, "My gold medal is more prestigious than your gold medal and therefore I'm the best in the world."?   Of course not!  Extending the example, can anyone say to anyone else "I have a more successful life than you."?  Imagine the comparison that might follow:  One person has accrued a million dollars; the other has saved a person's life.  Is one better than the other?  Can the fastest ten runners in the world say to the ten top-giving philanthropists, "You are failures until you have achieved excellence in running."?

From these examples, and endless others, it appears that accolades, medals and monetary reward can occur as part of an individual's pursuit of his or her purpose or mission...but they aren't a given.   Bummer.  I keep hearing how wonderful it is to be a top earner in the company I represent:  the financial freedom, the trips, the car, the jewelry.  "Do what I do, and you can be like me."  The best in the world.  I should want that to be my race as well.  I should want all those things.  To not want them is to be not in the game, lack motivation, not be hungry to be the best.  Or so I hear.  But...if I subscribe to that line of thinking, what of my special purpose, my mission, my race?  What if I'm supposed to save a life, and make only ten-thousand dollars?  What if I'm supposed to spend most of my time raising a child whose own child will discover the cure for cancer?  What if my race is to make only five thousand dollars and sit by the bedside of a terminally ill relative, giving them comfort and hope?  Can I still be the best in the world?

I suppose this circles back to the idea of an athlete critiquing the performance of a musician, or of a religious leader critiquing titan of industry.  Exceptionalism has so many different faces and facets, but only a few of them come with a publicity agent or a compensation package.   Couldn't a person, at least in theory, be the best in the world in kindness, charity or inspiration?  Most people, if they thought about it long enough, could name the kindest person, the most charitable person or the most inspirational person they either know personally or know of from afar.  These qualities aren't as flashy as some, but they may have greater staying power.  

How can a person know if s/he is running his or her race in the correct lane?  I wonder about that myself.  I used to think that I would know when I was on the right track when everything opened up ahead of me, when the rough places were smoothed, the path straight, and I could see the finish line in the distance.  Now I know better.  I see the unexpected twists and turns, loose rocks and exposed roots, disappointment and setbacks, but the presence of these obstacles doesn't mean I'm on the wrong path or running someone else's race.  When I feel uncertain, instead of "getting busy" or engaging in more frantic activity, I stop.  I look around.  I get my bearings.  I wait for direction.  My race doesn't look like it's going to set any records, and I don't think there are going to be a podium, cameras or a medal at the finish line, but I know that when I get there, I will be...the best in the world. 

The Best in the World: Part 1

When thoughts converge....I was reflecting on a talk/sermon I heard recently online, which has stuck with me.  The central theme was "What happens when you have a dream that you're certain is the plan for your life, and the dream comes true, and the dream is taken away?"  The speaker was referring to a company that he built from nothing, led to the heights of success and then lost in a lawsuit.

I had a dream also, when I started my network marketing business three years ago.  I would transition seamlessly from my unionized, government job to independence, serving as an example and inspiration to others who felt stuck in their jobs or lives.  It was going to be great.  So many people would find happiness and fulfillment after following my example and bravely plunging into the unknown.  But it didn't happen, and I had a series of "pride-ectomies", by which we requested financial assistance for most of the children's activities.

Two years into my business, I received verbal assurance from someone high up in the company I represent, that "...we love sparrows and eagles equally, but of course, our primary interactions are with the high flying eagles."  Ouch.  But at least I knew where I stood in the scheme of things, and the ability to move freely under the radar isn't necessarily bad.

Fast forward a year, and I found myself encouraging, exhorting, cheerleading others in my line of business who were discouraged by the constant social media barrage of "success stories" from "top earners" who had gotten off to a "fast start."  "Don't worry,"  I said.  "There are more of us than there are of them.  A LOT more.  We're in good company; we just don't know about each other."  This was as much for my own benefit, as for theirs.

I don't have this problem in the world of skating.  I know that I'm in the top half of all skaters everywhere, and probably much higher than that for (the remaining) skaters my age.  I'm not envious of Olympians.  I'm not compared to them or made to feel bad.  My efforts are not belittled, my progress not compared to others.  I'm running my own race.

Then the convergence...the transience of any dream that depends on people...lessons learned from years of figure skating, other people's definitions of success.  Click!  Out of nowhere came the thought, "What would it be like to be the second-best figure skater in the world?"  Pretty awesome.  Second-best in the WORLD.  There are a lot of people in the world.  Would being a world silver-medalist represent failure?  How could it possibly?

Most faith traditions, and even some humanistic ones, espouse a unique purpose, a mission or a race to individuals' lives.  Within this framework, a life well-lived is one where a person has fulfilled his or her unique purpose and run his or her race.  Material success or athletic prominence may or may not be part of the purpose or mission.  It may appear for a time and then vanish.  Kindness, charity and humbleness are on equal footing with material wealth, medals and fame.  Think St. Francis of Assisi.  Think Mother Theresa.  Is it possible for everyone to have an equal shot at being best in the world, by successfully running his or her race?  I think maybe it is.

Just Can't Stop

I recently came across the most wonderful single-panel cartoon ever, on a social-media site.

  "Oh my gosh!" I thought.  "This is...everybody!"  Then I wondered; what is the siren song of busyness?  What keeps most people (including me) from being willing to stop ineffective behavior long enough to replace it with effective or efficient behavior?  The large automotive factories do it.  Most, if not all summers, there is a scheduled factory shut-down of several days, while parts of the assembly lines are "retooled" or updated in order to make new-model cars.  It would be absurd to continue to make older-model cars because it would take "too long" to change the machinery.  Cruise ships also do it.  Those that sail certain routes in the summer and others in the winter have "repositioning" cruises twice a year, in order to get to the most seasonally-appropriate route.  How silly it would be to be caught in the ice in the Alaskan inland passage, because it would take "too long" to motor the ship down the coast.

So why don't individuals stop long enough to retool or reposition?  Is it the belief that any activity trumps perceived inactivity in defining a productive/busy/important person?  Most people can probably think of a time when someone should have stopped what they were doing or stopped what they were saying, taken a moment (or several) and repositioned themselves.   Awkward or destructive social situations aside, a life-path or course of action that seems (to even the casual observer) to involve dragging a heavy weight through soft sand on square "wheels" could equally benefit from a moment (or several) of inactivity, reflection and repositioning.  Why doesn't this happen more often?

I can only speak with certainty about myself, and I have to guess that others feel the same way.  It's psychologically much easier to change an ineffective or inefficient behavior early in the process, before it becomes part of my identity.  It's also easier for me to say to myself "Well, that was six months I won't get back" than it is to say, "I've been heading down the wrong path for five years.  I have wasted five years of my life."  And so, the five years become six, and the six become ten.  Why?  Is it pride?  Is it "I don't make bad decisions, so for this course of action to not be a bad decision, I have to keep doing it."?  To anyone who has ever received a blast of anger after suggesting a course correction, or who has ever lashed out after being told, "I think there's a better way" this may ring true.

The hardest part isn't dragging rocks through sand on square wheels, although people like to complain about it.  The hardest part, the deal-breaker for many, is acknowledging ineffective behavior, stopping and making the change.