My Greatest Fear

If you really knew me and understood me, you’d note something beyond the smile and sunny disposition. Sure, I’m a positive person. I’m also organized and detail-oriented. I tend to be clever, creative, caring and independent. I respect and honor good communication, and to top it all off I floss daily. It would seem that I’ve got a lot going for me—at least that’s what my resume reflects.

But it seems that every other week I find myself in the comforting presence of my father, a man who seemingly knows my heart better than I and who believes in me more than I’m capable of believing in myself. As he wipes away my hot tears of frustration, sorrow and self-pity, he assures me that dawn is nearly here. According to my father, when daybreak comes, I will blossom into all the greatness that I aspire.

I inherited the tendency to dream from my father, who undoubtedly inherited this trait from his father. While everyone contemplates their desires in life, I can’t distinguish whether it’s a blessing or a curse to be born into a family of dreamers. The way I was wired to dream means more than determining which career I want or how many kids I’ll have. I was born to dream to outlandish and absurd degrees of greatness. As a result, my greatest fear is mediocrity.

Mediocrity. I fear it more than death. To be mediocre would be to extinguish a legacy and to fail my inherent potential. I hope for so many things that I question whether I’m being reasonable. I want adventure. I want passion. I want to win. I want to change lives—to be an example, a hero, and a genius. I want to be swept off my feet, because I’m almost ready to knock the socks off of Mr. Right. Is this too much to ask? My dad, my great encourager, doesn’t think so.

Several months ago I was lucky to run into Jim Long, one of Kalamazoo’s legendary track coaches and a personal mentor. I sat in his office on a particularly trying day, when mediocrity was grasping at my heels. Maybe fear was written on my face, because without any exchange of words, Coach Long gave me a piece of paper that read:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
-This excerpt was written by Marianne Williamson and read by Nelson Mandela at his 1994 inauguration.

I read it and cried. It is okay to dream, as long as you have the courage to act, the faith in positive outcomes, and finally the patience to watch greatness unfold.