When I grow up...

Every now and again, I wonder who I'll be when I grow up. I know who I am at the core, but seeing into the future is a tad difficult for me. My crystal ball is in the shop. At any rate, I think about all the opportunity skimming my extremities. If you stop for a minute and just feel what's around you, you'll notice it too. In every direction, jutting from our bodies, is the chance to impact the world. Now I'm not saying all the choices are right, or even where we should go, but they are there.

Maybe I can blame Pay It Forward for this new round of soul searching. But it's not the only book that's made me step back and analyze my purpose. It's right up there with Paulo Cohelho's The Alchemist. That book was introduced to me by an old chum. She told me it was good and that it presented something new with each re-read. So I read it. On a plane to England. And I felt as though I'd been kicked in the gut. In a good way, if that's possible. Now, it's a book I give to people. Mostly people I see on the crux of a life change, or at the very least, people who will appreciate it. Please, please, if you haven't read this book, find it. I could have kicked myself for reading it in a public place. That was years ago, and apparently, I haven't learned much since then. I had to hold my eyes wide open so the tears wouldn't spill all over my blouse.

Every time I open The Alchemist, there is a new message. I have to wonder if the reason it touches me so is because I haven't done the one thing I need to do. I am reminded that my journey, including the pain that tags along, is not all about me. Most of the time it is, but sometimes, those lessons are opportunities for others to learn how to respond to what seems negative. Kind of like Mitch Albom's Five People You Meet In Heaven. Another keeper. Another dear, dear friend told me I had to read it. Because she's not a reader, I knew it had to be a stunning book. She was so right. She told me to read it at a time when I was asking why a lot. I was in a bad place. One where almost nothing made sense. And I was whining big time. This good friend told me, "Sometimes, it's not about you." Now, if you knew her, and could hear her matter-of-fact way of speaking, you might think she was a little harsh. No way. She told me the truth. Exactly what I needed to hear in that instance, and I am SO grateful that she loves me enough to tell me the truth. I read the book. Why do the great ones always reduce me to tears?

Each of these books has served to remind me how much of an impact the small deeds can have on our world. They make me feel capable of creating change, yet at the same time, they make me feel inadequate. For all the times I forget to do the small things for my fellow man, for all the times I set a bad example for my little people instead of a great one because sometimes, slacking off is so much easier, for all the times I complain about things that seem wrong in my life. It would also be so easy to revel in abject failure. After all, each of the heroes in the book did something--well, heroic! I don't do anything heroic. Not to me, anyway. Do you remember that movie, While You Were Sleeping? One of my favorite lines was the one Sandra Bullock's character delivered to Peter Gallagher's character. "It is to the person who sits in it."

It is the small things that make the biggest difference. Even something as simple as giving up my seat to someone who could better use it. So while those books sufficiently put me in my place, they also offer hope. Each of the protagonists were normal people, just like me. With normal problems, just like me. And they made mistakes--like I do. So who do I want to be when I grow up? I want to be the one who writes those books. The ones that make your face fight between laughter and tears.

I've got a long, winding road ahead...