Today, yes this very day, a dear family friend, only 48, did not wake up. Yesterday he was fine. Today the funeral is being planned. We do not know how long we have. Not you. Not me. Not anyone. The grim reaper shows up when he will. Have you a vision of your potential legacy? Is there a plan in position, your plan, to leave this world a better place. Surely you know thats why the creator of us all gave us breath and life. Each day we speak or train, we have the opportunity to allow some part of our vision to be actualized. I love to share the Johnny Appleseed story from the platform. Picture this frail old man, sack over his back, walking by the side of the road aided by his cane. He pauses every 30 feet, or so, and pokes his cane into the earth. He reaches into his sack. He takes out one apple core and gently pushes it into the hole made by his cane. He tamps it down with his shoe. Then he walks on. 10 or 12 paces ahead he repeats the performance, a little smile on his lips. A small boy watches, pulls on the old mans sleeve and says, I know what youre doing. And you wont be here to see those trees get big, produce apples and give shade. The old man wipes his brow with his big red neckerchief. In that case, he replies, I think Ill plant a few extras today. His vision is obvious. What is your vision. What is your vision of the possible you, of the reality that is to be because you stand and speak? We dont have to change the macrocosm, the whole world. What matters is that we add value, all we can add, for those in the microcosm, our personal worlds, yours and mine: All the people we know, all the places we go, all the circumstances and conditions of our lives. And that we do it while we can . . . Are we walking our talks? Are we justifying the space we take up and the resources we consume on this earth? Are we being a model of the possible human? Have we a vision, our personal vision, of our respective legacies? This is what we must face. This is what we must consider in the still watches of the night. After all, there are only so many tomorrows. . . |
