Greatness

I think someone once quoted Coach Wooden as saying, "Greatness is not dependent on how great you make yourself to be, but how you make others around you great." I tried verifying that Coach was indeed the source of this quote--after all, it does sound like the rest of his other wise maxims--but I could not. Nevertheless, I've come to realize the veracity of this statement as I am making my own progress in life.

Most people, myself included, hold this inherent notion that we must do big and wonderful things and have the spotlight shine on us in order to be great. Perhaps it is simply the human longing to want recognition and acceptance from peers. Often times, we put our best foot forward with our talents and skills and try with just as equal an effort to mask our weaknesses and fears. We think this is greatness. We admire those who hold and can push this standard of achievement. And we try our utmost to replicate those who have supposedly shone before our very eyes.

I'm starting to think we are wrong.

What greatness is starting to take shape within my mind and soul is like nothing I have ever seen before. It is not me--not the talents, achievements, or praises. But it has come in the likes of those men and women, children and students, dear friends and family, who have somehow reaffirmed to me that I have made them better. Whether it is through a few fleeting conversations, specific times of instruction or learning, or life-long friendships, the ability for one to come away with that soul-contentment tells me I am doing something right, and I realize a bit more each time a facet of what our purpose on this earth is for.

Greatness takes sacrifice, empathy, patience, understanding, and selflessness. And greatness definitely takes humility--tons of it. God knows I'm lacking in these areas, but as it is, greatness also knows its limits. I know what I am and am not capable of doing. The question is, can I make the best of what I have and what I've been given?

The soul is inexplicably satisfied when it seizes its purpose. Churchill says this is when man discovers his "finest hour." So I suppose, in some sense and in many ways unfinished and imperfect, I have come across my hour. This is the prolonged hour in which I have come face-to-face with that greedy monster of the flesh, in which I choose either to settle for eventual expiration or aim for eternity.

For those of us who have discovered this greatness, little of us will, in fact, have known it. It does not come easily or overtly by flattery, praise, or medals. It will come by those who represent and succeed you. It will come by those in whom you have left your indelible legacy.

After all, is this not the true measure of greatness?