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When I was teaching
physical education at a small private school I decided to hold a Junior
Olympics competition. As each
successive round was played, I found I would come home drained.
The reason? I hadn’t
yet learned to contain my forces as I “willed” each child to his or
her highest physical potential. But
I soon learned to protect my energy as I sent it forth. There was one
particular child, Charles, a boy of eight years whose body weight was too
high and whose energy level was just short of zero.
We had been told that he failed in most everything he tried; hence,
his enrollment into our school. Since
I know that the Act of Belief is ninety percent of success, I strove to
prove to this child that his potential had not even been scratched.
And I enlisted the help of the other seven children in his class. One of the Olympic
feats was high jump, where by, a cane pole was suspended between two
stands. When Charles made his
first attempt at the jump, it was a half-hearted one which resulted in
knocking the bar off the stand at SIX INCHES! I called the class to
my side. “Children, our new friend Charles needs our help.”
When all seven agreed they would “help” Charles make his next
three jumps, I turned to the boy in question.
“You have a job, too, Charles.
Not only do you have to run and make the jump, but you have to
believe. Can you do that?” The boy shrugged.
“I’ll do my best.” I smiled.
“That’s all we’re asking you to do.” The first jump was
not so successful. Charles
had to learn to pause at the starting line,
centering his concentration while the other children and I mentally bathed
him in light, imagining the object of our own concentration, literally
floating over the height bar. The
second jump was better. He
cleared the rod well above the two foot mark. “Now, Charles,”
I said, “we are going to help you jump three feet.” “I’m afraid.” “What can hurt
you? We’re here.” “You’ve gotta
believe, Charles,” said Missy. “Yeah, Charles,
we can only help you if you help yourself.” “Okay, okay,”
said Charles. “I believe.” “You gotta mean
it, Charles.” “I do, I do!” And so the third
jump began. He stood at the starting mark, closed his eyes, imagined himself
running swiftly, jumping strongly, clearing a three-foot height.
He opened his eyes, stepped out and ran like the wind, fairly
flying over the measuring rod. Eight
pairs of eyes followed his every move, eight bodies tensed, willing him
over the rod, eight minds concentrated, seeing his total success. And, of course,
he did it. THIRTY-SIX INCHES where before he had failed at SIX INCHES!
Now that’s a leap of faith.
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