I am pretty good at hiding the fact that I don't always practice what I preach. As some of you know, the mantra I incessantly repeat is 'carpe diem', or 'seize the day'. A few years ago, an amazingly insightful woman named Dale called me out in a moment of cowardice, exclaiming in front of a group of my colleagues, "I'm not buying this carpe diem stuff from you unless you get out of that seat, fasten yourself in, and enjoy the glorious view from way above the back of this boat!" It was her 60th birthday and she had convinced a group of us to celebrate by going para sailing along the sunny Florida coastline. So let me tell you the whole story.
I was terrified of the very idea of para sailing. This fear, however did not trump my social need to join in on a group bonding opportunity, so I quickly came up with a plan. I could cleverly masquerade as the adventurous type without having to actually partake in the specific adventure. With camera in hand, I hopped onto the boat claiming to be the group 'photographer'. It was a perfect ploy. No one would notice that I wasn't going to actually do anything brave. I could hence get the reward without the risk. Forget being strapped to a parachute, dangling high in the air, connected only by a skimpy little harness. I would leave that to my friends as I safely kept both feet on the boat, snapping photos to document the memory.
The boat pulled away, out into the open water. One by one, each of my friends conquered their fear to capture a breathtaking ariel view of the marine life below. They laughed, hugged, and thanked Dale for the gift of this birthday adventure. I played along, pretending that I too had some part in this collective bravery. As the boat started to turn for shore, Dale smiled, winked at me with a sparkle in her eye and called me out on my trickery. "Your turn, Miss Carpe Diem", she said. "Oh, but I have my camera and it's time to get back, " I muttered in response. The respect I hold for her will keep me from sharing the actual word she used to describe my lame attempt at avoiding imminent danger. Suffice it to say, in a nano-second, I was strapped into that harness, with her by my side, hearing only a ringing in my ears when we were hoisted into the air.
My heart raced as I white-knuckled the side straps. I closed my eyes, feeling the air lift us from the deck. "Open your eyes", she said. When I did, I first saw only her hands waving at everyone below. Then I focused on the boat becoming smaller and smaller beneath us. "Oh, look, dolphins", she said, pointing off to my left. In that second I got out of my head and into the moment. I saw the water sparkle as the dolphins swam around in the turquoise shallowness near the rocks. I felt the warmth of the sun, the softness of the breeze, and taste of salt water. Dale looked at me and said, "There you go, now you've got it."
Some people know how to talk a talk, and some people are brave enough to put real legs on ideas in order to actually take them somewhere. Dale was that kind of person. She served as a teacher, and ultimately as the Head of School at the same school for almost 30 years. She volunteered on numerous Boards and was highly regarded by all in her profession as a true leader. Last week, in a horrible moment, she was killed by a troubled employee whom she had fired earlier that day. When I heard the news, the first thing I saw were her hands. As clearly as I saw them when we were suspended in the air, admiring dolphins swimming below.
In the days that followed her death, people told stories about how she used river rocks to help ponder difficult decisions. She encouraged students, faculty members and friends to do the same. A basket of river rocks sat on her desk, each imprinted with different words that might somehow have meaning to the holder. A dear mutual friend shared that at her memorial service on Friday, thousands of mourners were each given a river rock, lovingly inscribed with different words painted by the children at Dale's school.
My friend knew I couldn't make it and kindly selected one for me. He said he didn't look at what was written on each rock right away, but instead waited until he got back to his office. When he took them out of his pocket, knowing all about our para sailing adventure, he said only one of the rocks was clearly meant for me. On mine was the word "uplift".
Despite the sadness of her loss, I am gratefully reminded of the most important job any teacher, parent, spouse or friend can have. We must pull each other out of our fears and into our life's great adventure. If we fake it even for a second, we risk missing a fantastic right now. I honor my friend by remembering what she taught me - carpe diem isn't something to say. It is something to do. I had best get busy.
