Last month, 24,000 people took to the streets to participate in the Boston
marathon. For many, this was not a competition against others, but with
themselves. These people pushed themselves to extraordinary physical and mental
limits. It was a sight to be seen and felt. The energy from the runners was
inspiring and the energy from the crowd, intoxicating.
While posts here have been scattershot, I have noticed the reference to my
children in writing to be more frequent in past months than in past years. Over
time I have realized if I had put as much effort and drive into my personal life
as my professional, perhaps I would have made different choices. I relay this to
you only because I am seeing things through a bit of a different lens and trying
to learn and accept the present, the blend of both worlds. And so, I learned a
new lesson as I dragged my kidlette three blocks to watch the marathoners fly
down Beacon Street.
Of course, as we watched the various athletes I ensured I took the
opportunity to speak to my daughter about the perseverance of these people, how
much time, energy and commitment they dedicated to this race, and discuss the
difference between a sprint and a marathon. However, I fear my comments were a
monologue and did not register as deeply as I desired. My seven-year old was not
instantly transformed into a possessed spirit aspiring to become a world-class
athlete. Instead, she was fascinated by the crowds cheering on the roadside.
Let me set the scene.
Despite the characters we saw run past us in a bunny costume and glitter
gold wings, this child took more interest in the common folks cheering for
family, friends and strangers alike. We inched our way slowly to the front of
the line, so she could squeeze in between the screaming adults to see the
athletes. As she scanned her surroundings, she inquired why all the people
stayed to cheer for others they did not know. If she cheered, would that make a
difference to the marathoners? Would they hear her screams and clapping?
And this is where I had an aha moment.
Starting my career in the online world, I found it took hard work, but I
gained recognition and found my voice. I {felt} like a leader. The longer I
participated in the social web, the less leadership or voice I felt I had…the
clutter and noise seemed to drown out all else and it has become increasingly
difficult to separate from the pack.
Light bulb.
Sometimes it is not about separating from the pack, but celebrating the
throngs of people alongside, behind and ahead of you. It is giving credit where
credit is due and realizing that is is not always about you. Standing up and
being a leader is great and what many of us aspire to be, but the world would
not be able to function if all of us were leaders. There is a time and a place
for us to rise up and take leadership and ownership, while other times, we have
to be the cheerleader.
So, on that beautiful spring day, my kidlette and I cheered on complete
strangers and spurred them on to be better than they dreamed…to blaze a path for
us to follow.
