Jennifer Paros is a writer and artist, author of the children’s
book Violet Bing and the Grand House, and monthly contributor
to Author
Magazine. She wrote her first children's novel in college and
started studying visual arts in order to illustrate her stories. Jennifer
enjoys writing both fiction and nonfiction and strives for all of her work to
communicate our intrinsic value and power. She lives in Seattle with
her husband and two sons and hopes you'll visit her, her pictures,
articles, and blog at jenniferparos.com . Welcome back to Book Blather, Jen.
I
read an article about an Australian woman who gave birth to twins prematurely;
they were born at 27 weeks. The girl was fine but the boy was declared
dead by the doctor after twenty minutes of attempted resuscitation. The
mother unwrapped the baby and laid him against her skin, held him and talked to
him for two hours until he began showing signs of life. He seemed to gasp
for air; the doctor dismissed it as a reflex action, but when the mother fed
the baby breast milk from her finger his breathing normalized. Soon he
opened his eyes. And what seemed to be The Impossible became
Possible.
Each
of us has dreams, thoughts, and ideas – some of which are shared and some of
which remain purely our own. And part of that stream of thought is one
that flies in the face of realism, common sense, or proof. It is the
thought of pure possibility that can help determine and define our path, and
help us find the opportunity to offer our greatest good to others.
In
the case of the Australian woman, she wasn’t consciously standing up for the
voice of possibility, yet her instinctive actions of holding and nurturing the
baby, speaking to him of his life, his sister, and what would be coming for him
all did. Aware or not, she was affirming the possibility of his hearing
her words and receiving her touch.
We applaud those who fly in the face of collective agreement, challenging the status quo: the spontaneous remissions, the scientific breakthroughs, the breaking of world records. We speak of these as wondrous and applaud the audacity of those who redefine what is possible. But when it comes time to claim that voice of challenge within ourselves − the voice that accepts no limitation other than as defined by our interest − we waver. Yet it is this voice and the act of bringing it forward in full expression that makes us cheer. It is bearing witness to the affirmation of the Voice of Possibility that touches us when Susan Boyle sings or Michael Phelps wins his eighth gold medal.
We applaud those who fly in the face of collective agreement, challenging the status quo: the spontaneous remissions, the scientific breakthroughs, the breaking of world records. We speak of these as wondrous and applaud the audacity of those who redefine what is possible. But when it comes time to claim that voice of challenge within ourselves − the voice that accepts no limitation other than as defined by our interest − we waver. Yet it is this voice and the act of bringing it forward in full expression that makes us cheer. It is bearing witness to the affirmation of the Voice of Possibility that touches us when Susan Boyle sings or Michael Phelps wins his eighth gold medal.
Perhaps
the feeling within us that something is
possible even though denied by popular opinion (or even ourselves) is the key
to us sharing our most valuable asset with the world.
In
1976 a book entitled Son-Rise by
Barry Kaufman documented the author’s severely autistic son’s journey. Raun,
who was eighteen months old at the time, was diagnosed as autistic and retarded
and it was recommended he be institutionalized. But instead, the author
and his wife developed an at-home, intensive model for working with him. By the
age of five, Raun was no longer considered autistic and was attending
kindergarten.
There
was no reason for the Kaufmans to believe it was possible for their son to
speak, make eye contact, and rejoin the world. There were no case studies
reflecting evidence of the possibility at that time. Yet, they allowed
themselves to act from their heart’s desire and disregard the
“impossible”. And it was this action that led them to contribute the best
of what they had to offer both to Raun and to the greater community.
Seeking
evidence is a sure way to become untethered from our dreams and desires.
Evidence only reflects what has been
done or witnessed, not all of what can
be.
And
in the arts – writing specifically—it is easy to become burdened by statistics
that do not speak to the ongoing possibilities. But part of being human
means experiencing what was once perceived as impossible becoming possible. And the desire for this kind of expansion
is built into each of us in our own unique way.
We
are meant to witness these breakthroughs in perception, these changing ideas of
what is possible. It is how we roll. “Impossible” has already been
revealed as a changing status. So, let us deliberately create the expansion
ourselves, by allowing our heart’s desire to override impossible every time, redefining possible in the best way we can.
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