The cantor swayed in the candlelight, her clear voice filling the church with Latin hymns and spirituals. What caught my eye was the cantor's tiny daughter. A miniature of her Mother, this tiny blond child jumped up and ran to a plate glass picture window framed with candles against the dark night. The three year-old could only see her reflection: black velvet dress, bow in her hair, white leggings and patent leather party shoes.
As her Mother sang, she started to dance. She twirled, bowed, tumbled and swayed--and mostly in time with the music. Never losing sight of her image, she preened, twirled more and then suddenly stopped. Clasping tiny hands against her heart, she looked intently at her window and smiled as if to say, "Oh, I am so pretty. And I dance so well."
I grinned. And then it hit me: what happens to us that we so quickly lose this image of ourselves as marvelous, gorgeous and talented? How is it we become so self-conscious that we rarely jump up, do that which which comes so naturally, and then - without pride - simply say, "Oh, good work."
I think leadership creates a space for people to return to their inborn talent - whatever that is. And good self-leadership pushes us to jump up to do that which gives us joy. I wonder what it might take for us to wash away fear, doubt and anxiety so that we'd rise to "dance"? What do you think?
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