creative, creative process, creativity, legacy, writing

This just in: Isabel Allende’s cure-all for writer’s block and how to leave a legacy

“Write what should not be forgotten…” ~ Isabel Allende

“Write what should not be forgotten…” ~ Isabel Allende

If ever you find yourself with writer’s block, Isabel Allende offers you the only remedy you need. We will all, eventually, pass on. Writers leave a legacy, a trail of breadcrumbs open to anyone and everyone who arrives on our path. Most of the people who read our work will never meet us, will never have the chance to sit down and ask, “So how did your life go this time around?” Your writing will be what stands the test of time. Write what you want people to remember—about you, your life, and the world around you.

books, children, community, economy, education, family, leadership, legacy, literature, philanthropy, time

Beautiful: John Wood’s Incredible Mission to Create Room to Read for Millions of Kids Around the Globe

9780670025985_p0_v1_s260x420Ten years go, John Wood embarked on a courageous journey. He left his job at Microsoft for one simple reason: so that “children everywhere have access to literacy and books in their mother tongue from a young age.” Sound audacious to you? It did to Charlie Rose as well. “Every child,” Charlie repeated in an interview with John. “Every one, without exception,” John said.

It is that kind of resolve, focus, and elegant vision that I find so exhilarating and inspiring. As a nonprofit founder, fundraiser, and a consultant who works with a number of nonprofits, I also know how hard it is to identify and maintain. John will not be deterred. It is his commitment to the children of this world that has allowed Room to Read, his nonprofit, to open 10,000 libraries around the world in 10 years. 10,000. It is astonishing.

In 2007, John wrote the book Leaving Microsoft to Change the World: An Entrepreneur’s Odyssey to Educate the World’s Children. Today, his new book, Creating Room to Read: A Story of Hope in the Battle for Global Literacy, goes on sale. It has valuable information for everyone who has ever cared about a cause or mission, for-profit, non-profit, or otherwise. It’s a story about the value of a dream and the determination to make it real. John talks about his all-star team, their site evaluation process, and what it truly means to work side-by-side with people you want to help in pursuit of a common goal. In equal parts, he gets down into the details about his fundraising and management philosophies and then shares his powerful emotions such as his misty-eyed moment when the 10,000th library opened in Nepal with his parents by his side.

John’s story is inspiring for all of the goodness he conveys though he is not shy about the hardships he, his staff, and the communities face. Global literacy is a battle in every sense. Moving into Africa was a particularly harrowing decision and an even more harrowing process. His team literally risked their lives to make it happen. In countries like Cambodia, 43% of grade-three students in his country could not read at an age-appropriate level. Statistics like this led Room to Read’s mission and activities to evolve. It wasn’t enough to build libraries and furnish them with books. First, they had to teach people to read. Without literacy programs, the libraries would be of zero value to half the population.

Once I cracked open this book, I couldn’t put it down. Nose pressed against the pages, I would look up and realize that hours had gone by. After a while, I stopped using my highlighter because I was highlighting every sentence. John Wood and Room to Read are paving the way toward a brighter future. Thank goodness he left Microsoft to change the world. With this book, I’m certain he will inspire many people to take up a cause that matters and make it their life’s work. And we will all be better off for it.

choices, community, feelings, future, legacy

Leap: The Source of Our Inner Voice

2814818488163739_Ly16Wp5q_bWords can be daggers or wings. They can tear us down or help us fly. What you say now, not only to children but to all people, becomes a part of how they view the world and their place in it. Gentleness is as important as strength and honesty. Everyone should leave every conversation with their dignity intact.

Do you want to be someone who tears people down or builds them up? Do you want to be someone who becomes a pesky inner voice to someone that instills self-doubt or do you want to be someone whose words are a comfort to others in their darkest hours?

The answers to these questions fuel our words and actions. They are our legacy.

art, celebration, children, legacy, memory

Step 243: Celebrations and Legacy Building

“A nation reveals itself by the people it honors, the people it remembers, and the people it celebrates.” ~ President John F. Kennedy

While Dan and I were in Philly over the weekend, we stopped into the U.S. Mint to see where the money’s made. Because it was a Saturday, the manufacturing floor was not operating but we could take a look at the machinery and the self-guided plaques told us about the process.

As we were leaving the Mint, there was a small section dedicated to commemorative coins. Off to the side there was a display of memorabilia that the Mint produced to commemorate Charles M. Schultz, the creator of Peanuts, one of my very favorite set of characters. I went to Schultz’s house in Santa Rosa, California, a number of years ago and was blown away by his creative process and the simplicity of his life. One time a reporter asked him if he could confirm the rumor that Charlie Brown was actually a reflection of his own personality when Schultz was a child. He replied, “Of course he is. And so is every one of the other characters. They’re all me.”

In the Schultz display at the Mint, the JFK quote at the top of this post appears next to a listing of quotes from famous artists who commented on Charles Schulz’s passing and his tremendous influence on American pop culture. In Santa Rosa, a similar display appears, though it spans roughly a 100 foot long, floor-to-ceiling wall.

Charles Schulz was loved during his lifetime, and has remained well-remembered and celebrated long after his passing. I dare say that his memory will continue on for many generations to come. The fact that we continue to celebrate a man who remained so tapped in to his childhood throughout his life gives me great hope that we can do the same, and want to do the same.

That got me thinking about the subject of legacy, the efforts we put into the world now so that we will have a last impacting long after we cross over. The people we hold up as examples of inspiration and admiration says a lot about the people we mean to be, which in turn tells us a lot about the kind of world we wish to live in, which again in turn tells us about our collective values and purpose.

Once we know our purpose, then legacy-building isn’t a chore – it’s a natural process. Charles Schulz woke up every day to turn his attention toward the concerns of the world, and mad those concerns bearable through the stories and experiences of the Peanuts kids. This says to me that we do care about the common human experience. He made us all recognize just how connected we are, and while we all have our own unique quirks, much like the Peanuts gang, we all want to be loved, accepted, and encouraged to practice. We all want to find out way. And that is an act worth celebrating.

children, education, family, legacy, social work, time

My Year of Hopefulness – Rich in Time

“An unhurried sense of time is in itself a form of wealth.” ~Bonnie Friedman

I am obsessed with time. Spending time. Saving time. Wasting time. The perception of time. The concepts of aging and growing and changing over time. And of course, the ultimate time question – how much time do we have left? Time is the only asset we ever truly own because we determine its value and worth.

The aspect of time that intrigues me the most is one I first learned in my college economics classes – leverage. How do I use my time as wisely as possible to do the most good I can? How do I get the maximum impact with the minimum amount time? The odd unintended blessing of losing a parent so young is that I stare my mortality in the face every day. If I want to accomplish everything I want to do, I have to utilize the idea of leverage. Our days pass too quickly, our time is too precious, to start every new idea from scratch.

The point Bonnie Friedman raises in her quote is one that leaves me scratching my head. I am always in a hurry – walking down the street, getting my errands done, eating, writing. I zip through as fast as possible so I can get on to what’s next. Where I struggle is how to enjoy each activity without thinking about what’s next? How can I be in the moment, this moment, every moment, without causing myself unintended stress from hurrying from point A to point B and back again?

My fear is that I’m missing out. I was recently telling my sister, Weez, that I really wanted to do something and her immediate response was, “let’s face it: if you decide you’re really going to do something, you make it happen.” At that point my question to myself was, “at what cost?” The trouble that over-committers like me face is this: how do I say no without feeling guilty? When there are so many people out there who need what we all have to offer, when I see so many ways for me to make things better, how do I decide this thing is important and needs my attention and that one does not?

The education program I’m working on has actually helped me begin to find some answers to these questions. I’ve been kicking around this idea, writing drafts of the white paper, meeting with potential partners, and asking for honest feedback on the idea from friends and colleagues since April. And every time I sit down to work on it, every time the idea even crosses my mind, I get a little jolt of energy and excitement that keeps on growing. The more I work on it, the more alive I feel. I’m so certain I can make a difference in this way, with this curriculum, that there isn’t any way that I can conceive of turning back now. I feel about this project the way that I feel about my writing – it’s becoming a very integral part of who I am.

And maybe that’s the trick. Maybe all our hurrying is caused by our desire to find where we belong. Once we find it, we can enjoy this wealth of unhurried time, as Bonnie Friedman suggests, because there is no ‘next’. We’re here, where we always wanted to be.

My dad was a clinical psychologist and his work was his life. He never felt hurried in his office, at his great mahogany desk surrounded by his books and papers and patients. He loved his studies in that field more than he loved anything. It may have been his only love now that I think of it. In some way, I sort of feel like this education project is helping me understand him, helping me see why his work was so important to him.

His last job before leaving the work force was as a school psychologist in Harlem. I always wondered why he was so eager to hop on a train that took him to the big City to help other kids while my mother was left to work and raise us on her own. Now that I’ve spent some time in public schools in New York, I understand. The problems and challenges are so great, and the opportunity to do something good in that environment is immense. The impact is immediate. Like him, I keep thinking about those tiny faces and those solemn eyes who wanted assurances that I would be back to see them again. He couldn’t let them down. I can’t either.

Though he’s been gone now 17 years, perhaps there is a way for me to still get to know him. Perhaps this drive to do some good in the public schools of New York City is much more than just my way of giving back. And maybe this is some kind of calling that’s coming from afar, some way to continue work, albeit in a different vein, that was begun so many years ago by my dad and the many people who were doing this work long before him. It’s a way to leverage the work of the past to create brighter futures, my own and the kids I hope to help. No hurrying required, and much wealth to gain.

The photo above can be found here.

dreams, legacy, memory

My Year of Hopefulness – Legacy Building through Others

“When something comes to life in others because of you, then you have made an approach to immortality.” ~ Norman Cousins

Donna, a friend of mine from Owning Pink, sent me this quote when I put up a post about the after-school program I hope to pilot in January. It made me re-consider my earlier post on legacy and my post on dreaming big, drawing a through-line that connects them. Is our best chance at legacy not through something we build, but through our efforts to helps others build something?

All night I’ve been considering people who have built great public legacies in the not-so-distant past and put Norman Cousin’s spin on their contributions. The one I kept coming back to was Walter Cronkite. He was a great journalist, perhaps the greatest journalist, who kept the country calm during tumultuous events. And while his own career is impressive, the great majority of the coverage of his death was linked back to the fact that he inspired an entire generations of journalists, including all of the household names we turn to every day to help us understand what’s happening in our world. They are his legacy.

Walter Cronkite is a perfect examples of what Wes Jackson meant when he said that we should dream so big that our life’s work can’t be accomplished in our lifetime. It should continue on long after our time has come to pass. There seems to be no better way to do that than to let our legacy live on within the work of others, in their accomplishments, in what they do with the lessons they learn from us.

Last week, I had another discussion about legacy. Someone told me that he didn’t have any idea how to build a legacy, that he wanted to explore things that interested him in the hopes that somewhere down the line his pursuits would help someone else in some way.

At the time, I must admit that I was a little confused because this is the person who got me thinking about legacy to begin with. If he is so interested in legacy, then how could he not know how to build one? Now his comment makes sense – he’s doing what all great legacy builders have done. They didn’t set out to build a legacy, to make people remember them. They set out to do something interesting and helpful with their lives, and do that as best they could. When that becomes the focus – doing your best, pursuing something interesting and helpful – the legacy building will take care of itself. With that focus we have the hope of living long after we’ve passed through this world.

dreams, legacy, memory

My Year of Hopefulness – Judged by the heart

“When you meet a man, you judge him by his clothes; when you leave, you judge him by his heart.” ~ Russian Proverb

This quote reminds me of a recent discussion I had about legacy building. The discussion got me thinking about what remains of us when we leave and how what we want to remain effects what we build right now. I can’t say for sure what specifics I’d like to be remembered for, what one or two things I’d like to build during my time here that will last well into the future. I can say that there are certain sentiments that I hope will be a part of my legacy.

I hope that I am remembered as someone with great heart and compassion and empathy, someone who always considered walking in the shoes of others before passing any kind of judgment. I’d like the words “concern” and “commitment” to appear numerous times in my history. That my integrity remained intact through challenging and easy times. Someone who had dreams and pursued them, while also encouraging and fostering the dreams of others.

I’d like to look back on my life with no regrets, no missed opportunities, having gained and lost in large amounts because I was always willing to take a leap of faith. Someone who remained hopeful in the face of despair, calm in the presence of tension, always looking up even when circumstances at eye level were dire. Having done the very best with what I had, maintained grace and kindness and wonder. That this world be a happier, more peaceful, creative place because I passed this way. Most of all, I hope that I am remembered as someone who rose to my potential while also reaching down to help others rise, too.

There’s a lot of pressure in the world around us to look, feel, and act a certain way, pressure to conform and take the journey that’s the easiest, safest, and most secure. Just because a path has very little resistance doesn’t mean it’s the right path for us. Finding our calling, building our legacy, takes more effort than just following the easy road. It involves knowing who are, and more importantly, who we are capable of becoming. It involves listening to the heart as sincerely as we listen to the mind.

entertainment, government, legacy, passion, time

My Year of Hopefulness – The life in your time

Today, the world said good-bye to Michael Jackson with all the fanfare, emotion, and celebration that should accompany the passing of someone who changed the world of entertainment forever. 50 short years of pushing the boundaries, taking risks, and going his own way inspired tens of millions of people across the globe.

I read an article in my alumni magazine about the book Plain, Honest Men by Dr. Richard Beeman. It describes the summer when a group of people gathered to write the Constitution of the United States. They made it up as they went along. They focused on writing a document to create a more perfect union, not a perfect union. In one summer, they formed the base laws that would govern a nation for centuries to come, a nation that would be the beacon of hope for people around the world.

Walt Disney wanted to build a place that captured creativity and inspired everyone who walked through its gates. From that park, he built an empire of innovation and entertainment that has caused the many millions of people who visit to wonder and dream. Walt Disney, and a team of believers, built the original Disneyland in 1 year.

Legacies are built one moment, one decision, one vision at a time. They require heart and passion and commitment. Time is the asset, not the constraint, that builds lasting impact. Michael Jackson, the fathers of our country, and Walt Disney are proof that there is a whole lot of living that can be done in a very short span of time.

change, death, family, friendship, legacy, time

My Year of Hopefulness – Our after-effect

Whenever I think about Penn, I imagine it to look like it did when I was there as a student. And every time I go back, I am always surprised to see how much it has changed. The place I imagine in my mind isn’t in the world anymore. Change happened without me.

My friend, Jamie, and I took a stroll along Battery Park at lunch time this week and a woman stopped us. She looked a little lost. “When does this park end?” she asked us. “I haven’t been in this neighborhood for 20 years and it looks completely different. This park wasn’t even here then!”

When we leave a place, we have a tendency to fix it in our minds. Even though we change and grow, we expect places we’ve been and people we’ve known to stay the same. It’s too much for us to imagine that life goes on without us.

Today I went to the funeral services for my Aunt Lorraine. She was a lovely lady that never forgot a birthday, an anniversary, or any other important occasion that involved her family members and friends. She lived a happy, long life, and I’m so glad that we had the opportunity to have her with us for so long.

On my drive home from the funeral, I kept looking at the clock, registering in my mind that all these minutes were unraveling, that I was traveling mile after mile, and my Aunt Rain wasn’t here with us anymore. Time went on, and we’ll all go on to make new memories even though she won’t be with us. And she’s going on without us, too.

I shed tears over the injustice of it all, of having to let go of people we love as a natural course of life. Change and time cannot be stopped. One day will fold into the next, whether or not we’re around. What changes because of our existence and the interaction we have in specific places with specific people is the how. How will one day become the next for me because I had my Aunt Lorraine as a role model? How does she live on in all of us even if she can’t be with us? And how do we want the world to go once our time has come and gone? This is really the only work that needs our attention.

The above images is from http://clock-desktop.com/screens/shiny_clock/palms-clock.jpg