I have a question: What is freedom?
This has been a splinter in my brain for a while, something I’m pondering quite a bit as I flesh out the ideas for my “author” projects. You may not like the answer I keep coming back to.
Ready for it?
Responsibility.
Wait! Don’t go! I bet some of you are thinking “I have so many responsibilities, I have no freedom.” That may or may not be true. Perhaps you only think you have some of the obligations you actually do.
I find it interesting to see the synonyms on my favorite online (or on iPhone, in this case) thesaurus. Albatross. Constraint. Liability. Instead of giving the word that kind of weight, take a look at it from another perspective…
Responsibility allows you to know what is and is not your job, what you can and cannot control. It is what I’ve heard called–and often repeat as gospel–your sphere of influence. In the scope of things, your actions have a finite range. Though the effect will be infinite in its ripples, directly you are only able to affect what is nearby…your thoughts and beliefs, then finally the actions arising from them.
To be free is to know that range, to understand the boundaries (which I will contend are likely further than you’ve gone) and run right out to the edge, fulfilling all your potential in that space.
Being all you can is simply a matter of knowing what you have to do. As a parent, you must raise a child that can contribute to society. As a leader, you are charged with helping others perform to their capability for a common goal.
There is power and liberation in knowing your responsibilities. How great is it to say “THIS is what I do, this is what you do?”
What do you think?
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Sunday Sermon 4/19/2009
I see all manner of people in the course of a day, some who are near their peak and others that “have been better.” Though the clinic floor at Gage Chiropractic Center is never stained with the blood of its patients like Edwin Leap’s ER, one can witness polar opposites of the human condition mere moments apart.
One person bounces in with a cheerful smile and the next grimaces in agony rising from the chair. Regardless of whether you’re in the acute or preventive stage of care (or somewhere in between), you are always a welcome sight.
Truth be told, I’m grateful to see the vast majority of people under my care improve drastically. As I’ve said again and again, your body is a magnificent creation capable of healing itself in fantastic ways. Given the simplest and slightest help, your body will run with it, nearly without fail.
There’s very little risk with chiropractic, whether you’re a day or a century old. I get to help you heal yourself, which is an awesome privilege…and much better than trying to just keep someone alive. (God bless the doctors and nurses who do, I shudder to imagine what they see.)
The best part, though, is seeing what happens when you’ve returned to the fullest health you’re capable of. Watching as you move forward and share with me your life’s enjoyment–often after I’ve met you in serious pain–makes my day.
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Chiropractic Is Not My Job
I wrote this several months ago and posted it as an “easter egg” on the ABLE Chiropractic website. As I have been closing down the company over the last few weeks, I have been unable to sit down and blog. Soon enough, I will be back to post quirky articles and occasional essays, as well as launching a new website. I often tell people that what I write–online, in newsletters and for health classes–is a window into my brain and this one is unmatched in that respect. Enjoy.
On a soccer trip to St. Louis at the age of fourteen, I visited Union Station with my grandparents and purchased a book called Rare Air by Michael Jordan. I’ll freely admit to being a child of the Nike generation, as most men my age are. If we were at all “into sports” growing up, there was no individual that personified immense talent coupled with a will to win more than #23. The work revolves around pictures taken by Walter Iooss, a renowned photojournalist for Sports Illustrated that followed His Airness around on and off the court for the 1992-93 season. The mostly autobiographical writing by Jordan amounts to little more than captions for Iooss’ stunning snapshots, almost like the explanations provided in an encyclopedia.
I read the whole thing in a day, which says something considering I was a kid whose attention didn’t focus on much other than a round ball at my feet. Fascinated by the insight into my idol’s character and mentality, I gobbled up each word and rushed on to the next. One phrase that stuck with me is “Basketball is not my job.” He went on to explain that when most people talk about what they do for a living, there is an air of obligation instead of enjoyment. To him, dealing with endorsement responsibilities and answering the media fit that description. The game was fun and he couldn’t justify attaching a four-letter word like “work” to it.
Caring for my practice family, helping them to live better and educating people about the beauty and magnificence of the human body is what I was made to do. It’s what I went to school for and the way I do good in the world. Chiropractic is not my job.
