Browsing Tag

Fire

Pages

John O’Leary is on fire

January 18, 2018

On an icy Wednesday, on one of those strange days that follow Christmas but fall before the New Year, with 10 minutes to kill before my Panera order would be ready for pickup, I decided to drop my books off at the library. Then, for whatever reason, I decided to browse, which I never do. I picked up a book called “On Fire: The 7 Choices to Ignite a Radically Inspired Life” by John O’Leary, after an endorsement from Brene Brown on the cover caught my eye. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, it would be silly for me to chalk this up to chance, as I’m fairly certain the universe – that saucy little minx – placed this audiobook in my weary little hands because she knew I would need its words in my heart and in my life.

You know how I get when I love a book. When it takes the air out of my lungs and quickens my pulse and reroutes the pathways in my mind. I get a little excited. I can not tell you how much I adored this work, particularly with the benefit of hearing it spoken by the voice of the author. If I could put the whole thing into this post, I would do so, for fear you won’t seek it out for yourself. It’s that good.

But that would be cheating you out of the opportunity to experience John’s journey at your own pace, in your own way. (Which you should!) So, instead, I will share just a few of the takeaways that I need to put in this space so they can stay with me always.

A bit about John.
When he was 9, John O’Leary decided to play with gasoline. A choice that would forever change the trajectory of his life. Laying in the snow, experiencing excruciating pain and watching his family home burn, John asked his sister to go back in the house, get a knife and kill him. He couldn’t live with the pain or the anguish of his actions. She didn’t. She told him to fight instead.

He was burned over 100 percent of his body and was given no chance of living. When his mom came to the hospital to see him, he asked her if he was going to die. “Do you want to die, John?” she asked him.

Do you want to die? He decided that he didn’t. Instead he wanted to fight.

Finding your why.
Throughout the book, John pauses to identify various “inflection points” in his journey. Personally, I’ve always referred to these as crossroads or gut-check moments. The times when you can go right or left and you may or may not know it at the time, but that decision will have an impact on your life. Do you want to die? is certainly an inflection point. As is coming to a boiling point with your child or a tough point in your marriage. There are inflection points every day. But I love in “On Fire!” when John says:

When you know your “why” you can endure any “how”.

It’s about reaching into your pocket and pulling out your compass when it counts. We get wrapped up in the tasks and activities and the appointments and the expectations, but that’s not your why. Your why is so much more than all that noise. Your why is that thing that, when nothing else works, pulls you through. It’s your true north. It’s your kids and your spouse and your life and your faith. It’s what whispers to you when you hold your palm over your heart. Your why is everything. When you have your eye focused on your why, you are invincible. A superwoman.
It’s also the source of your ignition statement.

An ignition statement is like a mantra. It’s something you can say to yourself, write in your journal, tape to your mirror, that, in the midst of the ordinary, gets you going. And it should start with “Because …” John’s ignition statement is, “Because God demands it, my family deserves it, and the world is desperate for it.” Another example he offered was, “Because I want to make someone smile, even if it’s only God.”

Abandon the idea of ordinary. Go for gratitude.
Toward the middle of the book, John urges readers to “realize that you are not a mistake. You were made with a divine purpose.” It’s easy to dissolve into the mundane cadence of our individual lives. To take your eye off the why. We wait for the big things – the weekends away, the weddings, the new babies, the winning ticket – and in doing so, risk missing all the joys in the ordinary. The sound of children laughing, the smell of a home-cooked meal, the feeling of pajamas (read: taking your bra off at the end of the day). There’s so much to celebrate in that space between the big things.

And gratitude will get you there. Gratitude ensures that you always have enough. It turns a meal into a feast, a house into a home. And there’s always a choice. John tells a story of his father, who was diagnosed with Parkinson’s. One afternoon John asked him how he stayed so positive. Through his answer, he showed his son that everything, even the seemingly devastating things, are gifts.

He was thankful for the days he couldn’t speak or leave the house, because they gave him time to reflect. He was thankful for the care his wife gave him. That she loved him so much, and he loved her. In days that seemed dark, he saw only the light.

Fear vs. love.
Make no mistake, you can be busy but not effective, breathing but not alive, and up out of bed but far from awake. The trick is to pursue significance over success, and significance is rooted in love.

So often we default to fear. But fear is rooted in what might happen, while love is about embracing what comes, no matter what. Fear suffocates. Love liberates. Again, you have a choice. You can fall into love, stay in love and it will decide everything. Or you can fall into fear, stay in fear and it will decide everything.

John encourages you to choose to let go of fear and instead, act from a place of love. And to wake up! Wake up to your life, to your loved ones, to the moment. After all, the greatest weapon on this earth is a soul on fire.

As a side note that’s much more than a side note, earlier this month, we lost my Aunt Marlene after she suffered a stroke. Among many things, she was a fierce cheerleader and champion for this blog. Scroll through the comments on my Facebook page and you’ll see what I mean. She left a piece of praise on nearly every post. Even the really crappy ones. There, under my turdy text, you’ll find a note from Marlene.

On November 28th:
“I read this piece through my tears as you truly have found the joy we should all be seeking. You have also been lucky to develop the insight that makes you such a warm, loving woman. You are your parents’ daughter. I love you, Courtney for passing along the joy. Thank you.”

My aunt battled a number of health issues throughout her life, three bouts of cancer and fatty liver disease among them, For much of her later years she was practically a prisoner in her own body. She was limited in what she could do and where she could go. And yet, the comments. The positive, encouraging comments. There was still joy to be had and love to give, so long as there was air in her lungs.

It’s fascinating and tragic how you never know when the last time you see someone is going to be the last time you see someone. My cousins, Marlene’s children, both shared moving tributes to their mother at her memorial service this past weekend. They were so poised and profound and made their mother so proud. In their hour of grief, they gave others peace. It was a gift to be in the room. And what I took away from their words, and John O’Leary’s words, is how insanely important it is to give an abundance of love to everyone you pass, every day. How urgent joy is. Just how much your presence is required to feel like an active, breathing participant in your life.

I’ve been working on my ignition statement. It changes often, but always I’m thinking of my aunt, and her family and John O’Leary. So far, my thoughts have brought me to this: “Because I am blessed to be able to do so. Because there are mountains yet to climb. Because I want to live, long and lovingly.”

Get this book. Find your ignition statement. Love boldly and without fear. Stand close enough to the spark that you live a life inspired … a life on fire.