November 10: "My Hero," Hero Worship, First Saint Marty

I think hero worship is a dangerous thing. Hero worship of movie stars leads to negative body image and eating disorders in young people. Hero worship of professional athletes leads to unrealistic expectations in college athletes. Hero worship of politicians leads to tyrants and dictators. I can vouch for the fact that hero worship of poets can lead to writer's block.

Billy Collins worships a terrapin . . .

My Hero

by: Billy Collins

Just as the hare is zipping across the finish line,

the tortoise has stopped once again

by the roadside,

this time to stick out his neck

and nibble a bit of sweet grass,

unlike the previous time

when he was distracted 

by a bee humming in the heart of a wildflower.

I understand Collins's admiration of the tortoise.  The hare is all about crossing the finish line, winning the race.  The tortoise, on the other hand, is more about being in the moment.  Stopping to find joy in sweet grass and a bee dancing in the heart of a daisy or rose.  In other words, the tortoise is a poet.

Don't get me wrong.  I've been given and won my share of accolades and awards, and it felt great.  Everyone loves to be recognized for their hard work and talents.  It doesn't ever feel great to finish last.  I used to run 5K and 10K races.  I never came in first.  (Okay, I did take first or second place in my age group a couple times.  Often, however, there were only one of two other men my age running in those races, so I was guaranteed to win some kind of prize.)

There are some poets whom I admire greatly, almost bordering on hero worship.  Sharon Olds is at the top of that list.  Mary Oliver and Galway Kinnell.  However, my admiration never crosses into hero worship territory.  Rather, these writers teach me how to be a better writer and person.  I don't want to be the next Sharon Olds or Galway Kinnell or Mary Oliver.

I want to be the first Saint Marty.

Saint Marty's moment of hope today:  putting up his Christmas tree with his wife.

March 5: Young and Strong, WWDD, Heroes

Santiago does a little DiMaggio hero worship . . . 

"Unless sharks come," he said aloud. "If sharks come, God pity him and me."

Do you believe the great DiMaggio would stay with a fish as long as I will stay with this one? he thought. I am sure he would and more since he is young and strong. Also his father was a fisherman. But would the bone spur hurt him too much?

"I do not know," he said aloud. "I never had a bone spur."

Santiago could be wearing a WWDD bracelet in this passage.  What Would DiMaggio Do?  Would his hero be in a boat in the middle of the sea, inextricably linked to a massive fish?  Of course, he has no way to truly know the answer to that question.

Hero worship is a strange thing.  It allows you to imagine a regular person being able to perform superhuman feats of strength or intelligence or skill.  Suddenly, a baseball player can survive on the ocean like wind or current.  Can overcome a sea monster.  And do all that with a bone spur.

I have heroes in my life.  Writers.  Poets.  Artists.  Actors.  Actresses.  Filmmakers.  I just finished watching My Octopus Teacher with my son.  The guy in that movie is a hero of mine.  Last week, I watched a documentary about Kurt Vonnegut.  Hero.  Right now, I'm watching another documentary about Toni Morrison.  Hero.  Flannery O'Connor.  Sharon Olds.  Bruce Springsteen.  Hero, hero, hero.

I have closer heroes.  My sister who just died was one of my heroes.  My son, in all his 13-year-old fierce energy and truth, is my hero.  My daughter, in her intelligence and thoughtful strength.  My sisters-in-law for all the love and support they've given me in my life struggles.  My wife's cousin for her ability to make me laugh in dark times.  My wife for looking into the face of mental illness every day.  All heroes.

I think a hero is a person who teaches you something about yourself.  Who lifts you up.  Who makes you see the world full of light and hope.  That's what my heroes do.  They make me believe in the possibility of God and heaven, because their gifts aren't of this world.  Their gifts are grace.  

I hope that some day someone may think of me as a hero.  In my life, I try to lift people up.  In my work, I try to make my little corner of the universe a tiny bit more beautiful.  Maybe it will be my kids.  Or one of my students.  Or it may be a complete stranger--a person I've never met in my life.

Saint Marty believes that we all can be heroes.  It's just a matter of doing your best.  Day after day.