My friend Eric and I had breakfast in one of those old restaurants with the one-foot square checkered tile floors.
We’re about the same age. He said, “Here’s a good way to visualize our legacy and the work we still want to do.
“Count out seven of those tiles and let each one represent a decade of our lives. That, give or take, is about how many really productive years most of us get.”
Then he grinned. “And you and I are halfway across the seventh tile.”
“So the message,” I replied, “is that we’d better get to work.”
He smiled in agreement. Eric and I both retired from our day jobs, but neither of us wants to simply run out the clock.
# # #
I think a lot about Eric’s simple illustration. How will I fill my last tile?
At one time I got trapped into believing the most important thing was raising money for the kids at the HOME OF HOPE. If I built a great organization that did that I’d leave a wonderful legacy, right?
Well, yeah, but that’s not exactly right. So maybe if Becky and I really got this bike tour thing figured out, if we created a place that encouraged folks to challenge themselves and learn about big dreams…that would be REALLY great.
Except…the bike ride and the fundraising aren’t at the center. They’re tools–essential tools, but just tools. Filling the last tile with those would be a bit like collecting a bunch of really nice carpenter tools but never building a house.
The whole point of the tools is to create something with them. Our work, our purpose, is to bring people together on a shared journey of hope. It’s about using the riding and the fundraising to build community.
Every time I say that I get scared. I get scared because I’m not qualified, because it’s hard, because I want someone to give me the formula. Then we move forward because we’re pretty sure we’re on the right path, even if we don’t know what we’re doing.
So that’s how I’m filling my last tile. How about you?