"Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
We ask ourselves,
who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous,
handsome,
talented, and
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 were born to make manifest the glory of God within us.
It is not just in some; it is 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 fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
I learned of this quote, for the first time, last week, when a teacher/colleague showed it to me. Her fifth grade students had memorized it, and now they wanted to present it, as a gift, to our Assistant Principal who was recently selected as our school district's Assistant Principal of the Year.
I knew he would love to hear these children speak those words, and I had to know more about the words that reminded me of my own purpose and mission. When I read the quote above, I realized that I had somehow strayed, at least spiritually, from my original intent so many years ago when I first began teaching.
Many, many years ago, when I was a young adult, I found myself contemplating my own inner demons (which I'm thinking everyone has, but most would prefer not to contemplate on them), and began to wonder why I did not push myself to do more or be more than I was at the time. I concluded that I was afraid of success, afraid that I would succeed.
A strange concept, I counter-thought. Why would anyone be afraid of success? Over the weeks that followed, those many years ago, I pondered and mulled over that idea, that I was afraid to do more because I was afraid I'd be good at it, and I'd be successful. But why would I be afraid of success?
Was I afraid that I'd have to deal with people who wanted me to do more and be more? They would expect more from me? Was I afraid that I would have to change how I acted? how I lived? how I responded to other people? Was I afraid that I would be given more responsibility? more work? more trust? Was I afraid that others would want to know what I think, how I think, and would want to hear me speak those thoughts? (I don't like public speaking... gives me the shivers.) Or, worst of all, was I afraid that no one would really care if I succeeded or not?
Yes, I was afraid to be more because others would expect more from me. But that was a very long time ago, and was probably a normal transition in growing up. I don't know if others have/had these very same thoughts as their minds and maturity develop, but chances are if I'm thinking this, others are thinking them (or have thought them), too.
It troubled me back then to think I'd be afraid to do more or be more, but a few years later, the pendulum of my spiritual life swung to the other extreme, and I remember seeking to do more and be more than I could possibly do/be on my own. I relished the aliveness, the awareness that I was, indeed, becoming more than I had thought myself capable of in those earlier, younger days.
It was only after being a mother for a few years that I realized I was doing something great and wonderful with my life... more challenging (physically, mentally, emotionally), more demanding of my time and energy, and more satisfying,... than any other thing I had attempted prior to that. The only things I had attempted before motherhood was leaving home to go to college (I graduated), a relationship (I got married), and a job (being fired from one job led to the discovering of another). When one is in their twenties, there is little else of importance.
I didn't recognize the light in my life, though. I noticed other people had light in their lives... they seemed to know where they were going, who they were, who they belonged to, what work they were supposed to be doing... they just knew, and it gave them great confidence as they went about their daily lives. The light shined on them and in them.
But where was my light?
That question troubled me for a few years. I sought answers. Was I blind or was I living in the dark? I didn't know if others around me were blind, or just living in the dark with me. It was hard to know because I just did not see.
One day or one year, seeing came to me... like waking up. I became aware gradually. It's like when you look at one of those pictures that don't make sense... you have to stare at it for several seconds before your mind suddenly makes sense of it. A colorful 3-D image appears before your eyes.
It makes you laugh or smile when it happens because just seconds before, you saw nothing recognizable. Your eyes take a few moments to focus on the colors and lines, sending these messages to your brain, ... your brain sorts it all out and helps your eyes understand what they is seeing. Then the image appears. And you say "There it is... I see it!"
That's what is like when you first recognize light. It seems out of focus, strange, confusing in the beginning. But when you look at it long enough, you recognize it. It makes you laugh and smile because you realize it was with you in that cave of darkness all along, though you didn't comprehend. You do now. The Light.
Once I understood Light, and saw it clearly, I noticed that I could see where I was going. I could walk without hesitation, and avoid bumping into the walls or tripping over objects and people laying on the ground. Better yet, I could help people off the ground, and guide them around the cave until they recognized the Light, too.
"Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you."
I think Ms. Williamson is speaking to people who aren't recognizing the light shining in their own lives, the light within their own hearts and souls... they are afraid to reach higher, for whatever reason. Her words encourage us. If we say that we are children of God, why aren't we acting like children of God? I think it's because we are afraid that God will demand much of us, and that we will have to change.
You bet you will have to change. Even caterpillars experience a dramatic change before emerging from their cocoons or chrysalises. Yeah, transformation is a given, but if it weren't so you could not become who you were meant to be.
"We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us."
and not just a chosen few, but ALL of us!!!
Congratulations to our Assistant Principal... I think I mentioned it in an earlier entry... but it's worth saying again... "We love you Mr. C!"
Our school surprised him yesterday afternoon with an assembly in his honor. Each grade level sang, recited, or danced for him. Hugs were given left and right. I know the school board will honor him with a special dinner or public recognition, but like Mr. C always said, it means more when your own people honor you in your own workplace.
The quote by Ms. Williamson is one of Mr. C's favorite... hehas many that he shares with us spontaneously throughout the school week. He's always looking for words that inspire, encourage, motivate... for teachers, students, and parents. No one is left untouched when Mr. C is around.
I had the pleasure and honor of teaching with him a few years ago... Mr. C in the classroom is a sight to behold... students under his tutelage never feel inadequate, unloved, or left out... he administrates the same way. He has a light that precedes him everywhere... and when that light touches you, you shine.
I know the source of his light.
Marianne Williamson, co-leader of the United States Department of Peace movement (quote often wrongly attributed to Nelson Mandela).
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