How YOU could become my guru

(This isn't actually an invitation to become my new guru . . . . .

Then again . . . .  maybe it is . . . . . )

Unless you’re not totally human . . . . .

. . . . and even then . . . . . (I’d want to check with RoboCop first) . . . .

There are people in your life who are your inspiration.

Their character, their language, their ACHIEVEMENTS . . . .

. . . . make you look at them the same way an eight-year-old youngster looks at the prima ballerina onstage, or that famous mid-fielder running towards the goal.

What is it that makes us admire them? Want to BE them?

Simple: They show us a vision for ourselves.

How do they manage to do that?

Here are some of the ways my heroes have done it for me.

Tell me a (damn good) story about yourself.

Let me tell you a (damn good) story about myself.

Talk to me in my language . . . . .

. . . . But make me curious about yours.

Make my head spin with insight into how the world really works.

Tell me I’m not (totally) nuts, and I really should strive for the impossible.

Ask me a question I’ve never dared ask myself before.

Ask me a question I’ve never even THOUGHT OF before.

Achieve something that I’ve never even dared think I could do (thereby making me believe I could).

Pull the rug out from under me, and then show me the massive gaping hole that was under it.

Be my friend, but keep your distance. I need to look up and see you at the top.

Tell me I’m capable of good and great things. (I know it, but I’m forgetful and prone to doubt.)

Tell me to turn around and help the people behind me, who look at me like I look at you.

When all hell breaks loose . . . . come visit me in the hospital. Or prison. And be there when I get out.

(That last one . . . . has obviously become a distinct possibility since I initially drafted this post.)