They say when a woman cuts her hair…
…she is ready to change the world.
Well, as you all know, encouraged by your support, I did cut my hair last Saturday and donated a foot of braid to Children with Hair Loss. I hope it brings someone joy; I have great hair and it is time for someone else to appreciate it.
Never fear, I still have enough that in several months or a year I can donate more. The process was remarkably simple.
Looking back, it was always the process that stopped me before, or rather not knowing how to donate my hair. I had plenty of it for a long time, I just did not do the work necessary to find a worthy cause. As soon as I scheduled my appointment and talked with the manager and stylists at the salon, it was incredibly simple to find out exactly what I needed to know. It is easy to look back on the last few years with contempt for myself – I could have donated two braids already! But I realize it is a pattern in my life – I will think of something for a long time without taking the necessary step to get it done. I build up something I say I want to do as some major undertaking, and freeze. I dream up ideas without making a list of goals, guidelines, or a roadmap. If the idea stays in the dream state, then I can convince myself that I bear no responsibility for the outcome.
Do you do that, too, dear reader?
I will tell myself that if I have the inspiration for a particular idea, someone else probably has it, too. Calculus was invented at the same time by two completely unrelated people. One reason the patent office exists is so the first person to develop an idea receives their credit – no prizes for second place.
But when talking about humanities, helping people, it is OK to have multiple versions of the same idea floating around. Each circumstance is different, each focus rooted in the location and the people being served.
As you may guess by the tone of this post, I have an idea that keeps knocking on my brain. It has been making its presence known since last summer, and I will need to dig up my notes from then. I am terrified to step out and research if this idea is viable. I know intellectually that I have good connections with the right people and organizations, but I am worried about failure. What if I try and it does not work out? What will that do to me, how will I be devastated financially? Do I dare try something that could be a spectacular disaster?
The idea stopped barging in after Sheila’s death, the second in my family within two months. I actually forgot about it, until one day I woke up and remembered this notion. Shortly thereafter my partner asked me if I was still thinking about it, and later the same day my mom mentioned it as well. The concept was knocking again.
I do not know what the future will hold. I suspect I need an accountability partner for this endeavor, someone who I share the dream with, and they concur and have the capacity to themselves to walk with me on this journey.
But who do I know who is not burned out? Who is not fighting for their own survival, who can take the time to keep me focused? Can I bring this brainstorm out of the dream idea and bring it to reality?
Claiming this concept as my life focus will change my world, let alone anyone I am attempting to help. I have never been one for claiming a destiny or a life goal, other than when I was three, touring the model trains at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute with an uncle, and I knew at that point I was going to attend Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute one day so I could “build things to help people.” When I arrived on campus as a first-year student, 15 years later, the slogan draped across the student pedestrian bridge was, “Why Not Change the World?”
At some point in my time at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, I realized that my life mantra, “build things to help people,” did not necessarily mean literal building projects, but it could be systems of interaction. I attended seminary, and the slogan that greeted me there was, “Changing the World Starts Here.” I thought the accidentally related slogans quite fortuitous, and clearly a sign I was in the right place. Once I graduated from seminary, I would be all set to continue changing the world. I graduated fourteen years ago. Looking back, I had so much to continue to learn, growth that must continue.
Now, perhaps, I am ready, ready to build things, systems, to change the world for someone. All I need to do is take that step.
What idea is knocking on your brain?
Is there a place you pass on a regular basis, and every time you see it you think, “someone could do something with that space?”
Do you have compassion for a group of people? Is there a way to link the place you keep noticing and the people in your heart?
I encourage you to start writing down these notes, these thoughts, and ideas. If these questions of mine do not inspire you, that is all right, too. We all carry affinity for varied compassion points, and we are motivated by myriad ways. Be open to possibilities.
Be willing to take the step, the step that frightens, the step that thrills as it terrifies you. I find this a difficult concept; I prefer to play it safe, engage with caution. When I was a toddler, I never stepped off the blanket onto the grass; I had no need to explore because I was content enough with what I had to entertain me.
It is time for me to walk barefoot on the grass.