This little life
among billions.
And so questions
arise about
how to make
a mark, my mark
what if i
don’t want to carve
my name on the
innocent tree’s trunk?
what if my work
is to remove the
hard marks
made on people’s hearts?
What then?
Can my mark be
gentle words
Can my mark be
loving well
Can my mark be
creating to create
Can my mark be
thinking differently
Or have i chosen
the safest of ways
to be vulnerable
and what is the value in that?
I’ve recently been challenged to look at the way I am making a mark on the world – and the mark I want to make.
This is a vulnerable place for me to explore.
It is not the sparking present and it is not the familiar afghan of the past.
It is something elusive and stretchy and expansive that brings with it all kinds of prickly questions.
Am I setting my sights too low?
Am I setting my sights too high?
Have I limited myself?
Are there issues of worthiness I need to confront?
Is what I am doing now enough?
As we live human lives on earth, we do things that first impact ourselves, then other people, and then maybe, our actions or ideas impact communities, organizations, municipalities, cultures, and societies – as well as understandings, philosophies, religions.
In most cases, our marks are not fully appreciated until we die.
I wonder, how do we value these marks?
Both the intimate and the public?
The private and the universal?
Are some more valuable than others?
Are the marks that create the most significant shifts therefore the most valuable?
There’s the mark Dr. Jonas Salk made, a significant, deep and incredible one remembered by generations of people whose lives were saved by his polio vaccine and by millions of people who benefited from his scientific discoveries and subsequent discoveries based upon his institute and research. (It’s important to remember that Dr. Salk refused to patent his vaccine, and did not wish to profit personally from his work.)
Then there’s the mark that a young Romanian immigrant to northeastern Ohio made, when with two small children in her care, and a demand that she rejoin her husband and eldest child in Romania, she refused. That young woman chose to defy her husband, never returning to the old country. Instead, she chose to fracture her family and chart a new life in a still new-to-her country.
The mark my great-grandmother Marina made the day she stood at the bus stop with her children waiting to embark on a voyage back to her birthplace, then changed her mind and instead returned home, was significant in my life.
Indeed, it made my life possible. (Thank you, Marina.)
While we live, our mark is ephemeral, in process, and not always apparent to us.
If we are intentional about the mark we want to make, then with a purposeful focus perhaps it can be shifted or changed.
After we die, to an extent, our mark is finalized. Now it is up to history to interpret and cast our mark. What we have done, or not done, can grow in significance over time – or melt away as our progeny carry forward and the impact fades over generations.
Are marks dependent on how we carry them on? How do we pick up a person’s mark or example and move it forward?
This is all quite esoteric to me. It’s much easier to grasp when I think of my mother, because she is the person closest to me whose impact has reached its human conclusion.
Her life is over, and has been for nearly 12 years. In those 12 years, life has continued without her direct energy, her earthly influence. Her husband, her children, her grandchildren, her many friends and relatives have all continued to live in their own ways, taking on their familial, relational and societal and work commitments.
So, I wonder, what was her mark?
I believe her mark was of great love and great sacrifice. She poured herself into her four children. She gave encouragement and affection and tough love. She was patient. She made us feel special and seen. She made our lives fun and beautiful and imbued beauty and faith into our lives in profound ways. She welcomed in the people we loved and people who had been shoved aside. She was abiding and supportive in her love – and did not focus on her sacrifice to create the family she did.
Her own ambitions and interests took a back seat to what we wanted, to what we needed, to her emotional support of us, her family. She was determined to create a whole, healthy family. And she did. She was not fully realized in her talents, in a career outside of the home, in her passion for the arts – and even in her love of travel. Even as she invested less time and energy in herself, she gave freely to others – she set an amazing standard for hospitality. She gave hundreds of hours to nonprofit charities she helped to start and work with.
Because of her mark, my brothers and I have all been able to model love and commitment – for our partners and our batch of children, 12 in total. Each of us carries a generous helping of my mother’s love and acceptance in our hearts. I like to think that baseline of love and acceptance gives us the power to love and accept others. It also empowers us to take on risks, as we have done, to travel the world, as we have done, to achieve career success, as we have done, and to nurture our loved ones in deep and sustaining ways, as we have done and hope to continue doing.
I think this is a great gift to the world. And I think it was a big part of the mark my mother intended to make.
Although, I always acknowledge the parts of her she was not able to more intentionally express.
Using her mark as my baseline, I wonder what I can accomplish in those realms that help address what was left unfinished for her.
And I know how I chose to make my mark comes with tradeoffs.
Pursuing a purpose always comes with tradeoffs.
I believe Dr. Salk would tell you that, as would my great-grandmother, Marina.
I am careful about that, particularly when the tradeoff comes in terms of relationships, which are the soul of a fulfilled life.
Here’s what I do know about marks:
I believe we have a purpose in life. And I believe the expression of that purpose changes over time and throughout the seasons of life.
We must reflect on the mark we are making and hope to make, throughout our lives, so we can live as fully as possible.
The grandest marks are not necessarily the most visible. Sometimes a most profound mark is small and modest — at the time.
I believe the mark we are trying to make should be a source of inspiration to us. That is not always comfortable, but it is motivating.
Our marks are born of our sincerity. A lasting mark cannot be made with insincerity as its fuel.
And lastly…
If we could have a shared purpose, a shared mark we were making, we ought to consider this…
I believe our first mark ought to be to love ourselves and one another well.
If this was the shared, expressed purpose of every person on earth, I believe much of the pain of the world would evaporate. And we could heal ourselves and our planet and truly make a significant mark.