Hi ,
Last time, we talked about finding “diamonds at our feet”—those simple moments of beauty, like a wet leaf glistening in the sunlight on the sidewalk, that can stop us in our tracks.
These moments are crucial, but they coexist alongside a harsher truth: the world is also full of genuine suffering and circumstances beyond our control.
I often think about the tragic story of a gifted dancer.
She was talented, graceful, and expressive.
But in a moment, her life was changed by a car wreck caused by someone else’s negligence. In one moment, her life’s work was gone. Through no fault of her own, she could no longer dance.
This is a true tragedy. She was a true victim.
So, what can a person do?
Often, people in similar circumstances spend the next 50 years organized around resentment, angry and resentful about what was taken from them. And they would have good cause. But spending a lifetime in that state doesn’t change the facts. It doesn’t restore the future that was lost. It only trashes the experience of the moment you actually have now, because it’s not the one you we planning on.
There is another choice.
It’s not about denying the tragedy, but rather about limiting its impact.
It’s about connecting to the deeper part of her that is still true and as alive as it ever was.
The part of her that is artistic, expressive, graceful, and loves beauty—that part was not destroyed in the wreck.
The desire to express, to thrive, to connect… that is what’s “true and good.” Her body could no longer perform the dance, but her spirit still knew how to dance.
And so, she decided to find another way.
Maybe she found her new dance in the rhythm of words, becoming a poet or a writer whose sentences flowed with the grace she once saved for the stage. Maybe she found it in the dance of connection—like coaching—learning to move with another person’s story, sensing the give and take of a conversation, and guiding them to a new place.
This distinction brings to mind the difference between two kinds of artists. One artist says, “I would love to write a song, but I need a better guitar first.” They set the task of finding the perfect instrument before they ever give expression to their creativity.
The other artist’s urge to create is so pressing that it doesn’t matter if they only have teacups and spoons. The music comes pouring out of them, no matter the instrument. That’s the real artist.
We all have something like that in us. It’s the part of us that, like a plant, is imbued with the capacity to sense the sun and turn towards it, just so it can grow.
The dancer’s choice—”Who do I want to be in the face of these facts?”—is a powerful metaphor for the choice we all face in these troubled times. There is so much unrest, change, and stress around the rapidly changing economics, the political environment, employment, housing, and the price of food.
These things are important, and they matter. There is no doubt that there’s a lot of stress in our lives that wasn’t there just a few years ago. I struggle with it as do many.
And while these ugly truths are facts in our lives, living in stress about them with every breath will only destroy us.
While it’s important to not minimize the impact of these challenging times, it is imperative that we also commit to be being present the goodness around us which runs equally deep. How else can we hope to be of service to ourselves and others?
This brings back that central question: In a world with unlimited beauty and unlimited trouble, who do I choose to be?
This question is more important than ever. We need to be there for ourselves and for each other. And there’s no better way to support our own resilience than to be mindful of the difficulties, while also engaging with the great beauty that is still here, and always will be.
Stay present, and remember— that who you are emerges from a place circumstances cannot touch.
When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” — Viktor Frankl
What do you want to create today? (And it can be very simple. A heartfelt hello said so warmly the other person feels it—that’s dancing.)
– Brett
P.S. Next time, we’ll talk about how we often make up stories that aren’t really helping us, and believe them.