Wisdom Stories
“Will I have enough to say?” I wondered as I entered my first session of a sermon writing course for my previous job. “I’ve never delivered a sermon before. Do I have enough to say on a particular topic to fill the time? Besides, who says I have anything to say that anyone else really wants to hear?” But then I thought, “I’ve enjoyed or learned or pondered over many lay led services, so why not me?”
If my years of teaching have taught me anything it’s that wisdom can come from anyone. The sparkle in a baby’s eye at the simplest thing can remind us to find beauty in the mundane. A toddler asking a big question that you haven’t pondered for a while can reconnect you to the sacred. An elementary student sharing a profound insight can remind you what it is to feel awe.
Wisdom is all around us. There is wisdom IN each of us. But society has trained us to be polite, to be agreeable, not to rock the boat. (Or, at least it used to). To insist on being heard, having an unapologetic voice, and openly asserting our beliefs when they differ from the societal standard is hard…..it takes practice and effort. And we sooner take up causes that speak to our ideals rather than insist on our own thoughts being heard.
But this mindset is harmful. It harms you to think you are not worthy of being heard, and exponentially it hurts all of those from whom you withhold your wisdom. Sharing our stories, sharing our experiences can have profound impacts that we don’t even realize. I took a Grief Recovery course a while before the sermon writing course. The stories and connections shared within that group were profound. Validation of isolated feelings held silent for years occurred and stories that connected in unimaginable ways were told. There is wisdom held even in our pain. The depth of our stories runs deeper than we know. We never know how a story, while significant to us as individuals, may have an amazing impact on someone else, whether it be validation, inspiration, reflection, or wisdom.
I’m reminded of a famous quote from Marianne Williamson (not Mandela or Angelou, though they are often given credit) from her 1992 book A Return to Love:
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
Whatever your views of the Divine, this is a powerful quote. I encourage you to read it again and possibly even refer to it regularly. While the entire statement has great depth, there are a couple phrases to which I want you to pay particular attention. The first is – “Your playing small does not serve the world” – When did you last keep your thoughts to yourself because you didn’t want to rock the boat?
When were you last brave and spoke your mind, even though you knew the resulting conversation might be uncomfortable?
This is not to say that lashing out is appropriate and you should willingly start fights. But you have wisdom and experiences to share, and you do a disservice to the world by keeping them to yourself. This IS to say be brave…be true to yourself, even though it might be a little scary sometimes.
This is an extreme example, but a friend of mine was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease a few years ago. It took him a long time to get the proper diagnosis, but I had my suspicions of what it was over a year before his diagnosis. See, I had watched my father-in-law live with Parkinson’s for years. I noticed similarities in his appearance and mannerisms that were reflected in my friend’s behavior. But who was I to notice such things? How could I notice what medical professionals could not? So I stayed silent. That is, until I noticed the tremors. By the time I mentioned it, he was waiting for the results of the test.
What if I had asked sooner? Would people think I was crazy? I had no medical training, who was I to think I know what’s going on? Or could I have saved my friend some suffering with an unknown disease, by sharing my experience? Truth is, we’ll never know because it’s already done. But I share this with you, because I know there are stories and experiences you have that you withhold because you don’t want to draw attention to yourself, because you don’t want to sound crazy, or because you don’t want to be vulnerable. But, “your playing small does not serve the world”.
Now, to be clear - that doesn’t mean that everyone should sign up to give a sermon or speech. Speaking in public forums might not be your thing. But I am encouraging you to share your thoughts and stories with others in some way. Invite your neighbors over for coffee and conversation. Share your stories with family members who haven’t hear them before. Connect with friends or interest groups or book clubs. Don’t keep your ideas locked away because you deny the rest of us your wisdom.
The other phrase I wanted to call your attention to was:
“As we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.” When we are bold and allow ourselves to be vulnerable, we show others it’s ok. Sharing ourselves fully and authentically allows others to show up fully too. What if everyone in the world showed up as they truly were all the time? Do you think it would be easier to find the people you really connect with? Do you think we might find more commonalities if we actually talked deeply with each other? Why wouldn’t we want to share that with the world? Share your stories. Pass on your wisdom when you have the opportunity. The spark you ignite today may light someone’s way for years to come.
I never did get to deliver a sermon to my congregation. The pandemic hit toward the end of my course. Maybe someday….or maybe I’ll write a book, start a podcast, or speak on stage. For now, I write this blog, and I share my stories with my friends, family, and clients. With whom will you start sharing more of your stories? Your light is precious…share it so others might burn more brightly too.
