As I reflect on the pace of this year, I find myself at odds with the promise I made to slow down. Yet, despite my best intentions, I seem to be caught in the rush of opportunities that cross my path. Was it my susceptibility to suggestion that led me to apply for the Leadership Learning Program upon receiving that encouraging email from our CIO? I confess, I submitted my application secretly hoping it would go unnoticed. So, why bother applying at all, you may ask? Deep down, perhaps I craved the prospect of personal growth that the program promised.
Now, here I am, juggling responsibilities that seem to have materialized out of thin air. From the upcoming hacking competition with the Cyber Club to unexpectedly finding myself responsible for three new baby chicks, I can’t help but wonder how I got here. Could it be that amidst the chaos of my daily obligations, my mind sought refuge in the simple joys of tending to chickens and envisioning a homestead?
And then there’s the hacking competition. I joked with friends that my participation was solely for the refreshments, but truth be told, the decision wasn’t entirely mine. It seems there’s a part of me that is driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge and growth, even when another part longs for nothing more than to hit the pause button and savor the present moment. It’s a paradox, to be sure—often biting off more than I can chew yet somehow managing to navigate it all.
But am I truly happy amidst this flurry of activity? The truth is, it’s discomfortingly hard to say. Perhaps that’s why I find myself constantly yearning to slow down, to take a momentary respite from the chaos. And that’s where the garden and the chickens come into play, serving as gentle reminders that life offers more than just the relentless pursuit of productivity.
As I sit here contemplating my unfinished essay bio for the LLP, I’m struck by the realization that perhaps I’ll never truly consider myself “finished.” This sentiment was echoed in my recent read, “The Nibble Theory and the Kernel of Power” by Kaleel Jamison. The book’s premise—that individuals have the capacity to evolve into their best selves and uplift others in the process—resonated deeply with me. Jamison’s metaphors, particularly those involving “nibblers,” transported me back to a time when I was left with shattered self-esteem after being on the receiving end of such behavior. It’s a feeling I never want to inflict on another soul.
Some call this theory generous; some call it productive. I call it a way of living.
This way of living works like a candle. Then you give away some of the light from the candle, by lighting another person’s candle, there isn’t less light because you’ve given some away, there’s more. That works with love too. And that works with this growth theory.
When everybody grows, there isn’t less of anybody; there’s more of—and for—everybody.
-Kaleel Jamison