Last night before falling asleep I had a fascinating thought.
I've never taught a good enough class. I've never given a good enough speech. I've never written a good enough essay. In fact, with one amazing exception, nothing I've ever done has risen to my own lofty expectations. The best efforts of my life so far have attained about 80% of the quality or excellence I had aimed for and worked toward, and have perhaps had at most about 20% of the positive impact I had imagined.
I've always done the best I knew how, with 100% commitment to the task and an enthusiasm and dedication that refuses to give up, regardless of the gaps in quality and impact that seem so stubbornly entrenched in my outcomes. I'm oddly proud of that form of 100%, rather than being simply disappointed about the rest.
The one exception to this rule seems to be the story that told itself to me over a five year period and insisted that I write it down and somehow get it out to the world. My only job was to look and listen and write. I had to quiet my mind and get out of the way and let the story unfold itself. I think that, with the second editions of the books that resulted, now out, I've hit about 98% of the quality I had aspired to attain in my transcription of the amazing tale. And so, I can be happy with about 2% of the positive impact I might have envisioned in the end, should the stories arise to that point in the world. This seems to be how it works.
But I may finally be at the stage in my life when I'm learning how to get out of my own way. The stories have begun to show me that, both in the way they came to me, and in their deep lessons. Fulfillment may depend on a sort of wonderful and all too rare spiritual emptiness that alone allows of an exuberant filling up that we ourselves could never have managed out of our best ego resources and energies. Perhaps when our personal presumptions get down to 0%, then our contribution can go to 100.
If you're curious about the stories, you can find out more at www.TheOasisWithin.com.
