It’s all in the Point of View By Daniel J. Calderón An often-overused quote (usually referred to as a cliché by most people, but I like to be different) is “The eyes are the windows to the soul.” This expression causes me to wonder what happens when we blink. Is whatever that is dwelling in my soul wondering why there are irregular intervals of light punctuated by a sudden and short-lasting plunge into absolute darkness.
And what happens when I sleep? Does my soul hunger for the light my eyes provided it during the day? What about people with glasses or contact lenses? Do they have double-paned windows into their souls? Are their souls more insulated because there is more protection? Granted, these aren’t too terribly existential or important of the billions of possible and postulated questions, but they are there. Questions abound and perceptions can change pretty quickly. It’s all about how you look at things. Opportunities can be missed if they are viewed as mere conflicts. A chance at greatness can be passed over if all you see is the possible danger involved. The chance to be a hero need not be fraught with the threat of imminent demise. It all depends on the person who might view you as a hero. I had my chance to be a hero on Easter and I almost blew it. My family and I were at a restaurant (I won’t say which one or where – you’ll understand later) having our Easter lunch. I spotted someone who I thought I recognized, but I had to refer to that reserve of knowledge that was used more on the Dad side than on the Me side. A quick check confirmed that he was, indeed, a member of the Hannah Montana cast. I leaned over and pointed him out to my eight-year-old daughter who proceeded to nearly hyperventilate as he walked past our table and over to his own – with his own parents and siblings. I though I had done my duty. She had seen him, had her little moment as he walked by and been thoroughly awed. I was ready to get on with my appetizer and wait for my lunch. I’m sure he wanted to go ahead and do the same. However, my wife pointed out that my daughter was still all googly-eyed and that I should take her over to meet him. After a little more protestation on my part (after all, I didn’t want to interrupt a holiday lunch with family), I took her over, apologized for interrupting their time together (the meal had yet to arrive) and introduced her to the young star. I was prepared for a short greeting followed by a quick “oh thanks for coming over – bye” kind of brush off. I guess I’m jaded by what I’ve seen in the media (and I’m a bit disappointed in myself that I have been). What surprised me was how approachable this young man was and how graciously he received my daughter’s attention. He spent several minutes talking with her, remarking how pretty her dress was, how cute she looked in it (just the thing an eight-year-old with a crush wants to hear from a television star on her favorite show) and then he and his family proceeded to talk with both of us on how we were spending our Easter. He let my daughter sit with him and posed for a picture. Unfortunately, all I had was my camera phone and the image is kind of fuzzy. If we see him again, I hope to have a better camera with me. After a few minutes, my daughter and I excused ourselves and went back to our table. My preconceived point of view and the reality I experienced at that restaurant were two completely different things. I expected a gracious-but-standoffish young actor. What my daughter and I got was a young man and his family who seemed to appreciate the respectful attention. If I were his parents, I’d be proud of him. The young man? Mitchel Musso (from Hannah Montana, but I think I mentioned that). I wish him the best. So now, I’m a hero to my daughter. She thinks I hung the moon because I took her to meet one of her favorite stars. To think I might have passed up that chance just because I was afraid to bother him or because I wanted to remain in my own little comfort bubble is a humbling realization. How many chances have you missed to be a hero? How many opportunities to shine have passed you by just because you’d rather be comfortable? What will you do with your next opportunity? Just a thought… |