Last Wednesday evening I gave “an inspirational speech” at the Bright Lights Awards Banquet, held at the Portland Art Museum, and sponsored by the Portland Monthly–it was an evening of honoring outstanding volunteer achievements in our city and state. I thought I would excerpt from that speech for my “Reflections” blog this week:
When I reached my 50′s, I started following the obituaries in the newspaper–middle-aged and older folks will relate to this: you begin to understand that you have a limited amount of time left on this earth, and you want to make the most of it. Anyway, I started collecting obituaries of people I admired and putting their pictures up on my fridge–in fact, I had a sermon entitled “Dead People on My Fridge.” (Not in my fridge, you understand, on my fridge!) I put Richard Avedon, the photographer up there; I put Mr. Rogers; there’s Johnny Cash, Lynn Redgrave, and Daniel Schorr.
Now what do all these people have in common? They’re not fabulously good-looking, any one of them–well, with the exception of Johnny Cash. Yes, each had talent, had gifts–but so does everyone have gifts. The thing that they have in common is that they each had a vision that was their own, and they followed it. No matter what other people said, no matter what had been done in the past. No matter what they had to give up, to become their very own selves, not a copy of anyone else, but their very own unique selves. They all had that strange and elusive quality that we call “integrity.”
Sometimes in our personal journey a possibility rises up before us, and it is possibility that frightens us the most. Here is a book I could write! (And the voice comes whispering, “Who do you think you are, to write a book?”) Or a path opens before us, and fear grabs us by the throat. We’re afraid we might mess up, flame out, and everybody will know. How often do our irrational fears keep us from our deepest longings? What would you choose to do if you knew beyond a doubt that you would succeed?
The people we admire the most travel by their own lights. At the same time, they are not ego-driven. They know that their lives do not belong to themselves alone, but belong to life itself. Their lives are given over to something larger than themselves.
You know, the fact is, that most people who do great things in this world are not geniuses–they are often not more gifted than many others. The difference is that these people have the courage to live the life they were called to live: it’s not that they are never afraid–it’s that they don’t run from their fear: they invite it in, get into it, own it, and it loses its power over them. As you meet resistance, you will discover strength, beauty, depth, you never knew you had.
The question is not, how can I “be successful,” how can I find the perfect life, but how do I live the life that is mine, the one “wild and precious life,” as Mary Oliver says, the one wild and precious life that I have been given. This is your life, yours and no other’s. Live it freely, giving your talents, your love, your knowing, as no one else can. Seek out those people who celebrate what you are; seek out those places where you are encouraged to become every inch of what you were meant to become. And in so blessing the world, you will find that you are greatly blessed. So be it.
