Saturday, December 26, 2009

2009: Does Boxing Make A Difference?

As I can only assume most of you spent the day out boxing in a joyful and exuberant celebration of this all-important holiday, I figured I'd serve up this piping hot email for you to tuck into upon your return. Trust me – it's tasty. 

Yes dear email list, it's time that I once again stuff (or is it dress?) your inbox with my deep analysis (read: annual tirade) of a year in review. If this is your inaugural inclusion on this distinguished list, I suggest you give it a whirl and make a more educated "to open or not to open" decision next year. But now that you’ve managed this far, pour some milk in your tea, grab some nibbly bits and bobs, put your feet up, and indulge in this: Laura's 5th Annual Boxing Day Email.

As many of you know, I'm responsible for planning my 10-Year High School Reunion. (This is a contrived pause for those of you in my graduating class to hit reply and offer up either pity or assistance. Or both.) I've already discussed the fleeting issue of time in Boxing Day emails of yore, so aborting the lecture launch, I'll simply state that I have no clue where the last 10 years have gone. Looking back to the year 2000, it is ultimately farcical to think about where I thought I'd be in 2010.

At 18 years old, the prospect of 28 was unfathomable. But I knew it was old. And this fabled "old" promised answers. Security. Confidence. Establishment. HA! Who's going to break it to my 18-year-old self that at nearly 28, uncertainty is the only certainty in my life? How long will I live in London? What's next career-wise? Should I be thinking about marriage? Kids? How many licks does it take? It all boils down to a small seed of insecurity rooted in a simple question: 10 years later –
what difference have I made?

I will confidently venture that I'm not alone in this trend. Our obsession with making an impact and leaving a mark is deeply ingrained. I can try to hide it, but in my heart, there is an incredible sense of fear that my life will never amount to what it could or should.

Then I think of people who have greatly impacted my life, and one in particular who made a stunningly large impression. This person is not famous, nor is he someone I loved. In fact, I’m referring to “this person” in cryptic appellation because I don’t know his name. He was a camp counselor and was preparing to teach us something that, conveniently, I can’t remember (though it was probably how to thread a dream catcher or whittle a flute). In jest, a fellow counselor playfully challenged: “Sounds risky, don’t you think?” He looked back straight-faced and responded: “Risk surrounds everything worth having.” It was small. It was in passing. It was not contrived. He was merely sharing a cheeky response. For me, it was life-changing.

This brings me to my 2009 theme: Sometimes I think we’re looking for that big moment where we’ll have a HUGE impact: our name in lights, our story profiled in notable publications, our life honored for the penultimate greatness that we’ve bestowed upon the previously lacking world… but when we look back on our lives, the most significant moments are likely going be small instances, moments we may never even know deeply affect the life of another human. Maya Angelou was spot on when she said: "The woman who truly intends to live a good life is already living phenomenally since intent is a part of the achievement."

So when we blink a few more times and the 20th and 30th reunions are upon us, I’ll dare to venture that the answers we so desperately seek, the Scott’s Tots promises that we just “know” we will fulfill, the stability and security that we are utterly convinced are just a milestone birthday away, are still just as elusive as they are today. The questions will be different, but I’ll double dare that uncertainty will still be our certainty. 
And for the physical challenge? Live passionately. Take risks. Live with an advanced mentality. Push forward into the foreign. Because perhaps the only way to take responsibility for our influence is to ultimately accept the reality of uncertainty and not be paralyzed by the unknown. After all, risk surrounds everything worth having, right? 

With this, I leave you rocking in arms of Stephen Colbert’s sweet, sweet cadence: "I don't like answers. You wanna know why? Too bad." In light of the unknowns that make life a constant challenge, I reflect with a humble heart on the people reading this who have and continue to deeply impact my life simply by living phenomenally.

Wishing you and yours an abundantly risky 2010.