One of the most intriguing documentaries I’ve seen in recent years was one produced by Sydney Pollack about world renowned architect, Frank Gehry, called the “Sketches of Frank Gehry”.  The basis of the film was not so much about showcasing his famous designs, nor about his personal life; rather its focus was on the way his brilliant mind works.  It was fascinating to say the least to watch him build models out of sticks, playing cards, and tin cans, driving his engineers crazy with his out-of-the-box - better yet, bizarre - designs.  Yet his works throughout the world are tourist attractions - the famous Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao located in the Spanish Basque Country, the Dancing House in Prague, the Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles, and the Weisman Art Museum in Minneapolis to name a few.  Frank Gehry’s buildings are like no other structures the world has ever seen.  They are uniquely outlandish, like Frank Gehry himself who more than being an architect is a visionary. 

Visionaries are not mere day dreamers, they see possibilities no one else ever imagined.  But more than that they believe their visions can become reality - and determinedly they do.  Visionaries are the innovators of the world like Steve Jobs who we talked about last week, Bill Gates, and from an earlier time people like Henry Ford or the Founding Fathers of our country. 

Here’s a little secret, you and I are visionaries too; for we each possess an imagination that is uniquely ours through which we visualize our lives being certain way.   But more importantly we have the ability, if we are so determined, to make that vision become reality.  That’s what vision is, the picture we have in our minds that provides us direction and purpose, without which we are simply going through the motions. 

Few of us will design buildings that become tourist attractions like Frank Gehry, or revolutionize the communications systems or modes of transportation.  But we each have the ability to make a difference - within our families, communities, businesses and workplaces - when we take seriously that unique vision that is only ours and determinedly move it toward reality.

Ever wonder how in spite of this difficult economy there are those who continue to prosper, whose products and services remain in high demand, Stephen Jobs being a  great example?  Did you see in the news how many people are lined up to purchase the new i-phone?  What’s his secret?  Does he work harder than we do, is he smarter than we are, does he just happen to be in the right industry at the right time, or is he just plain lucky?  Maybe, but I’m willing to bet you work hard too, are plenty smart, offer products and services you believe in and that others would strongly benefit from, but as for luck it just doesn’t seem to come your way like it seems to for him.  So what is it that sets him apart?  

We are currently in the midst of doing some major repair work, painting and spruce up around our house, and in the course of doing so we have discovered two things.  One, embarrassingly, is how much dust and filth has accumulated above, beneath and around furniture, books, and various sundries that have remained in the same spot far too long.  But the other is how many new ideas have emerged as we began to move things around, discard, clean and freshen up.  We now have a whole new concept of how our home should be arranged. 

So what does that have to do with the success of the new i-phone and what Steve Jobs is up to that seems to work in this seemingly endless recession we are in?  The answer is innovation.  It is the innovators who not only survive but thrive, and it is the innovators who will lead us out of the recession.  They always do.  And those who fail to innovate will, unfortunately, fall behind. 

Innovation is neither a special talent possessed only by a gifted few, nor is it exclusive of hard work.  In fact the two go hand in hand, as demonstrated by the new ideas that began to emerge as we move, clean and paint around our house.  Those ideas are the result of hard work not idle day-dreaming.  I of all people should know this, for as a business coach what I do professionally is challenge clients to become innovative, and to realize that innovation emerges when we begin to move a few things around that have remained in the same spot far too long.  And when we do something innovative there is a much better chance people will stand in line for it, even in a difficult economy.

A friend who was awarded a fairly significant contract recently was describing to me her extreme excitement about capturing such an incredible piece of business, but at the same time was panicked about how to pull it off, for much of what she agreed to do she’s not done before, it is for her uncharted waters.  Is that not the way life is - or, at least, is that not the way life is if we have the courage to put ourselves out there as my friend did? 

My biggest regrets are not the mistakes I made or the things I did that I shouldn’t have done, rather it’s the things I could have done or should have done but didn’t.  I’m not talking about those stupid dare-devilish escapades of my youth - done plenty of that.  I’m referring to the opportunities I have turned away because I was afraid or too timid for whatever reason to tackle it.  Fortunately as I’ve grown older I’ve become more courageous about such things.  Perhaps that’s my penance for all the previous missed opportunities, or maybe I’m just gutsier in my old age. 

That is the real reason for our recent pilgrimage.  Even though we were excited about experiencing the history, beauty and culture of Northern Spain, and thought that walking the Camino de Santiago might provide some sort of spiritual renewal, the real purpose of the trip was purely for the adventure of it.  Whatever other reasons we may have had for spending our time and money on such a thing, the real reason was the excitement of putting ourselves out there in, what for us at least, was uncharted waters. 

Life, I believe, is something to be experimented with.  How else can we bring out the best in ourselves unless we are willing experiment, explore and try something new?  Almost all human progress from the invention of the wheel to the microchip is the result of someone’s experiments.  But to experiment demands that we be willing to put ourselves out there, in uncharted waters, like my friend did in winning her new business contract, which I’m willing to bet will pay off for her.  In one way or another experiments always do.   

“As I have stated before this trip has not been exactly what I had expected, if I had indeed expected anything.  I remain open to whatever it is I am supposed to learn.”

- from my travel journal, May 26, 2010 

My experiences on our recent pilgrimage across northern Spain had not been at all what I had expected.  I suppose if I had expected anything I had imagined it would occur during some solitary contemplative time walking the Camino de Santiago, perhaps some great revelation about my life’s purpose, or an ah-ha moment about how to take my business to higher heights.  Or maybe I thought I would be knocked to the ground and temporarily blinded like the Apostle Paul on his journey to Damascus in some sort of conversion experience.  No such luck.  Instead, as my journal notes reveal, there existed a common theme throughout most of the trip of not knowing exactly what to expect, until . . . 

. . . As I described in my journal on May 28, “It was sometime during our lunch today, that I experienced perhaps my greatest moment on the trip so far.”  It occurred while Tee and I were lunching with one of our travel companions, a total stranger up until the time of this trip but who we had quickly befriended.  Almost out of the blue she began to share with us one of the most personal and sacred moments in her life, an experience that had brought her intimately into God’s presence.  It seemed strange that she would tell us such a thing, and so spontaneously at that, for she did not seem to be a particularly religious person.  So why she had chosen to share this very personal experience with us we have no idea. Her story was brief, matter-of-fact, though somewhat emotional, and never mentioned again; except, the next evening while having our last dinner together as a travel group our friend rose from her chair at the other end of the long table where we were all seated, walked around to Tee and me and gave each of us a kiss on the cheek.  Then without a word she returned to her seat.  End of story. 

So the trip was not what I had expected, if indeed I had expected anything.  But I did learn why I was there walking the Camino - to provide companionship and hospitality to a fellow pilgrim. And that is, as we learned, the great tradition of the Camino de Santiago. 

Dear Readers:  We are still in Spain, but have completed our pilgrimage.  Today Tee and I travel to Paris for a little French R&R, if you can call it that.  We’re overwhelmed and will no doubt need some time to absorb our experiences.  So rather than try to write something I’m not yet spiritually and emotionally prepared to express, I will share something from the archives about a previous travel experience, also appropriate about this particular adventure. 

From the Archives 

On rare occasions it will happen.  In the midst of our busy lives an instance will occur when time stands still - the “clock” time that dominates so much of our lives becomes suspended.  Strange as it may sound, in those moments we experience the true meaning of patience, for time becomes irrelevant to the activity in which we are engaged. 

It happened in a quaint restaurant in Pietrasanta, a small city in Italy.  We were on holiday with a group of close friends visiting the Tuscany and Umbria regions and it was the first evening of our two week excursion.  In that magical moment, time as we know it was nonexistent.  No one thing - the food, the wine, the ambiance, not even the fellowship - could be singled out as the reason.  Rather, it was time in its fullness - in complete abundance. 

The antithesis of patience, of course, is impatience.  Impatience always has something to do with time.  It is about working against the clock which says to us, “Hurry!  Hurry!”  

Patience, on the other hand, occurs at those times when we are the most engaged in life. It is about being steadfast and focused on the things that matter the most. 

Patience is experienced through the comforting of a small child with a skinned knee, at the bedside of a critically ill loved one, watching a majestic sunset at the end of a long summer’s day, completing an important project for work or school, preparing for a new career, or with a group of friends in a quaint restaurant while on holiday in Italy. 

It is in those patient moments that time is the most abundant, and our lives are the most fulfilled.

Pilgrimage is the ancient practice of walking, usually with others, to a holy site while paying prayerful attention to everything that takes place within and without, soul and body, all the ways that are inherent in the Way, along with the companions who are also on the Way.  It is not as simple as it sounds.

Eugene Peterson, Foreword to The Way is Made by Walking by Arthur Paul Boars 

As you read my little epistle this week Tee and I are trekking across the Camino de Santiago in northern Spain.  We are on a pilgrimage, a sacred journey, the purpose of which is to follow in the footsteps of literally millions of pilgrims who have walked the same path over the past twelve hundred years.  Our destination, as was theirs, is Santiago de Compostela home of the cathedral that claims to house the remains of James the Apostle, the patron saint of Spain. 

To hike over rugged terrain in all kinds of weather conditions just to see where someone’s bones are buried - even if they do belong to Saint James the Apostle - is not the real purpose, of course.  Nor was it the real purpose for the millions of travelers who preceded us.  Rather our pilgrimage is intended as a time of spiritual renewal, a sacred journey to a holy site, taking time to pay “prayerful attention to everything that takes place within and without, soul and body . . .” as Eugene Peterson says.  It is for getting in touch with our own souls and for growing closer to our Creator.  

Our pilgrimage began in the city of Pamplona in northeastern Spain, famous for the running of the bulls as you may recall.  Fortunately for us that event is several weeks away.  Remember the movie City Slickers?  It seems rather ironic, but the movie started off with a flashback scene of Billy Crystal and his buddies running the bulls in Pamplona. Why is that ironic?  Because in a sense that movie was also about a pilgrimage, about three friends in the early stages of midlife trying to get in touch with their souls. 

Pilgrimage, though is about much more than midlife crisis.  It is about life itself which is, when you think about it, a journey to a holy site, is it not?  So, if you are so inclined I ask you to pray for us on our pilgrimage. . . . . Stay tuned, more to come.