My Year of Hopefulness – Climbing

“The single largest pool of untapped resource in this world is human good intentions that never translate into action.” ~ Cindy Gallop

This morning I had breakfast with one of my business school professors. From the beginning of my time at Darden, he was a champion of mine and was someone that I spent many hours learning from. He has been and I hope will continue to be a great mentor of mine. I wanted to meet with him to talk about my plans for my own continuing education. He helped me to realize that in my plans, I am thinking too small. I am selling myself short.

He asked me what programs I was considering. “Christa, where you are is a function of where you’ve been. You must go to the best program that will accept you. Start with the number one program in the country first, go talk to them, see if it’s a match for you and if it is, fight for your admission into that program. This is the time to push yourself further than you ever dreamed possible.”

I was a little shell-shocked. I hadn’t considered the number one program at all, for a variety of reasons. On my way home, I kept closing my eyes and shaking my head a bit, considering the enormity of the task before me. My professor asked me to start from a place of the biggest, brightest, most beautiful dream where I can do the most good, and let that guide my application process. “A little change is not enough, Christa,” he said. “You are capable of more.”

When I got home and opened up my email, I found the quote from Cindy Gallop. I have good intentions, and by entering some of the programs I have been considering, I could bring some of them to life. My professor is asking me to reach up a bit higher on the tree of programs, where the sun shines brightest, where the fruit of hard labor is realized in its fullest form. If I intend to bring my intentions to life in the best way possible with the greatest amount of abundance, I don’t do myself any favors by dreaming small dreams.

On the subway down to meet my professor this morning, I was thinking about the idea of life being lived in 3 acts. Let’s assume I can live to the ripe old age of 100. At 33, I am just about to close my first act of life. In doing so, my professor’s advice is the perfect transition into act 2.

Here I am, a small town girl who worked hard to achieve some pretty decent accomplishments, endured some difficult hardships, and in the process found the line of work I was meant to do. In beginning to plan out that work, I had some ideas of how it could be achieved, and then a great mentor stepped in right at the end of act 1 with a surprise twist that would spur me to achieve much more in act 2 than my own script had originally set out to do. And so the plot shifts, the stakes heighten, and the excitement begins to build.