First thoughts on The Art of Possibility

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The Art of Possibility - Stepping Into A Universe of Possibilities

Let me just start that had this book could not have come to me, (even as a required reading) ata better time. I used to be one of those “too cool to care, or too cool to be kind” people, and I was too cool to be caught with an inspirational book.

Fast forward to June 2009, and I am loving every page of this book. I think if we “feed” a little bit of this book to every American, we will be a nation of shiny happy people. Organically happy. Seriously. There is just too much negativity in our society.

So much fear. So much hating. So much worrying.


You know I thought when I came to live here in the USA, I would be happier or my life would be better. Well, it is now. But before I got to this point of happiness and peace, I must say that I was more worried about making it here in US compared to making it in the Philippines. I am not putting the blame on America. I am pointing my fingers at our culture of fear, commercialism and our massive superiority complex. The bottom line is, even though we are more comfortable compared to other people living in less affluent countries, most of us are still not happy. I know I wasn’t.


I had to be reborn spiritually to come to where I am now.

And so I embrace the Zanders’ book with a warm hug. Here are a couple of thoughts on the first chapter.


On the two marketing scouts for a shoe company

“ A shoe factory sends two marketing scouts to a region of Africa to study the prospects for expending business. One sends back a telegram saying

SITUATION HOPELESS STOP NO ONE WEARS SHOES

The other write back triumphantly

GLORIOUS BUSINESS OPPORTUNITY STOP THEY HAVE NO SHOES


Needless to say, this anecdote cracked me up. After a few moments of settling my laughter, this story made me reflect on my which kind of person I am. The anecdote made me ask myself, which one am I? Am I the like the first scout or am I like the second scout? I was very much like the first scout for most of my life. It’s been two years now that I seem to be more and more like the second scout.

When I resigned from work and got rehired by my district as a Special Ed High School English teacher, I was scared and worried. At one point I was grateful for getting rehired. However I also felt sorry for myself for being stuck with the school’s baddest of the bad. For a hile too, I thought I was being punished for making hasty decisions.

What a trip!


What was I thinking?! Teaching special ed has been a great blessing! It really is. And to quote my “kids” I say teaching special ed is a blessing. Dead ass. Do you want to know why? Because not every teacher can teach special ed and live to tell the tale. Being that I have been blessed to be in this field for 12 years now, I suppose you can say I have the right to say what I said.

Teaching special ed, for me was not a punishment. It was a privilege. It was a privilege to teac my kids and to be a able to get to know then. I feel that I have learned so much from my two years. I feel that I emerged from my experience a better teacher, equipped with new skills.

This coming school year, I am moving back to my original home, the middle school. My principal was able to get first pick, and I feel so loved that he asked for me to come back. A part of me is sad to leave my kids. We have a strong bond already. But see, If I wallow in sadness, then I would not see that I am embarking on a new adventure at the middle school.

I choose to step into the universe of possibility.





“We grow up in a world of measurement, and in this world, we get to know each other and things by measuring them (p. 18) ”

I was immediately struck by the similarity of this message to a passage from The Little Prince. There was part in the beginning of the story when Antoine de Saint Exupery’s pilot’s character when he was describing how grown ups put importance in numbers. This is so true. Sometimes, when I catch myself giving in to self pity because I don’t earn as much money as my childhood friends, I tell myself off and remind myself how blessed I am to love what I do. My fiancé reminds me every now and then, of how happy he is that I love my job. He’s right. I do love what I do. Who wouldn’t love waking up in the morning and preparing for a day full of surprises,( both pleasant and otherwise?) Who wouldn’t love playing dress up for school , dressing up for a show? Who would not love hanging out with teenagers and inviting them to express how they feel about stories written by people who have long gone, or of stories from another place and time, either real or imagined?


I know I do.


And though from time to time I am still plagues by values of measurement, I try my best to look at life as little adventures and my successes with them. After all, there is always something gained from experience, be it a good or a bad one.