I believe in you

My mother - the fabulous Marcy Heft - taught me that life is a gift.  And there are only a few things to do in exchange for this gift:

- Be amazed.  Notice the tiny little miracles that are all around you. Savor it.
- Take good care of each other.
- And be the very best you that you can be.

These are my navigational tools, and my practice.

My parent’s pure and unconditional love, honest communication with each other and with us, and their appreciation for the little things gives me this deep reservoir - this giant chasm - of belief in my self and in other people. Even people I have not yet met.

It allows me not just to wish for peace - but to be peace. And to have a calm and peaceful grounded place from which to navigate in my work with groups and individuals. To ride the waves of how life sometimes happens, take in each moment, and b-r-e-a-t-h-e.

Because I carry inside me this amazing seed of love and belief from my parents, I know I have quite a bit extra to share. Some years ago I made a promise to let people know that I believed in them, and to say so. My colleagues, clients and students hear me say this often - but especially when they wonder if they will do a good job, stretch into new territory, or take that leap of faith to make a change. “I believe in you.”

One day I was dining in a restaurant and I asked the food server what she dreamed of doing. She said she was passionate about becoming a teacher but did not know if she would be a good one. “I know you will be a marvellous teacher,” I said, “because you care so deeply about being a good one. I believe in you.”

Six months later I returned to the restaurant for lunch. She saw me at the door, brought her co-worker up to me and said to her co-worker, “This is the woman who believes in me!”
And she told me a story.

She was serving during a busy lunchtime and noticed that a woman dining alone in the back of her section of the restaurant was sobbing quietly. She did not know this woman, but she walked up to her, knelt by her side, touched her knee and said quietly, “I believe in you.”

Passing it on.

I once saw a television interviewer ask their guest, “What would you like to be remembered for?”  I would be happy to be remembered as the woman you knew - or maybe even didn’t know and never saw again - who believed in you. Who reminded you how amazing you are.

Lisa Heft