At the beginning of August, around 3:00 am, I woke to a rumbling. It was a vibrating sort of growling sensation. Somewhere between the land of slumber and total wakefulness, I determined that I must be sleeping with my BlackBerry. When the growl repeated, I decided that no, I wasn’t sleeping with my BlackBerry, I must have swallowed it! Panic. How would I check my email, see who was calling, and maintain my status as ruler of the universe? It took me several seconds to fully realize that it was my tummy that was growling. There I was at 3:00 am, confused, hungry, and in desperate need of some time away.
A few weeks later we went away … to a little cabin on the French Broad River. Away from the hustle and bustle of work and life, removed from the distractions and demands, and okay, I am even going to type it out loud here, addiction brought to you by your nearest cell phone tower.
It took me a couple days of the tremors, staring at my phone’s lack of bars to remember that the world was here before me and will be here after me as well. After all, my presence is just that, my presence. I can be so caught up with the emails, texts, calls, and minutia that I never stop long enough to question the why of it all. Human doing is so much easier than human being.
While on the bank of the French Broad, I traded in my BlackBerry for a Blue Heron. I watched the great bird with delight and he watched me watching him, his expression mixed with indifference and disdain.
Near dusk on the last day of our trip, I was gifted with seeing that big Blue catch a fish. With graceful deliberateness, he waded into the river to his knees and reached down scooping up his supper. He flew to the rocky bank and ate with slow pleasure. It was a glimpse of life by design, of doing what one was created to do, of naturally being. He didn’t have to try to be a bird, he just responded to his innate design.
Seeing that Blue live and work along his special spot on section 8 of the French Broad reminded me of the journey my business partner, Rich, and I have been on this past year … each digging deep to create and implement our life’s purpose, so that we might have the lives of our own innate design. Most of us know our design, and we know that we know, we just busy ourselves running towards money and anything else that removes the fear and risk of spreading our wings to fly.
When I describe my partner, I say that Rich is my brother and he is my friend. He is “Mr. Rich” to my children, Daddy to Taylor and Carley, husband to Ivy. He is an athlete, a man of spirit, a man of his word. He is smart and funny (although I am funnier.) He is authentic, the real deal. He is not without flaws or demons. He feels the fear and does it anyway. Together we have laughed, cried, and screamed. We have been sad, mad, and joyful. We have plunged stories on Disney’s Tower of Terror and paused in a Chicago subway to hear a talented guitarist make the world better by strumming a song.
We have shared the struggles, heartbreaks and wonder of raising daughters. We have run together and cheered each other on. Rich has taught me how to both hear and speak feedback (truth through love.) He has made me stronger, better. He is the best person I have ever worked beside. I trust him. He knows me, knows my mind, knows my dreams, knows my heart, supports my design … and I his.
I guess that is why it is joyful that we are moving in different directions at the end of 2009. We are answering our dream calls. Rich: to speak and teach in alignment with his passion of Engagement. Me: to remain with Dale Carnegie while growing my writing and reading business to make others laugh and feel inspired. Is this scary? Yes. Is change hard as hell? Yes. Is there a part of me that wishes we could just keep marking time to the beat of comfort? Affirmative. Is this our design? No.
As Rafiki said in “The Lion King,” “Simba is alive. It is time.” We too are alive, simmering with dreams and purpose. It is time, not to be tied to the busyness or business of all things BlackBerry, but to make a real difference by design as we live and work, catching fish along this French Broad called life.
This is Emily’s last e-couragement contribution. If you enjoy her writing, please visit and subscribe to her blog at www.achicksview.com.
The monthly e-couragement will continue through ExtraOrdinary! Inc., written and delivered by Rich Schlentz. Visit him @ www.extraordinaryinc.com