Some dear people have an unusually positive effect on me. Perhaps it is the hope they embody, the compassion in their eyes, or the generosity with which they listen and love. Whatever it is, I often leave their presence feeling lighter, steadier, and more deeply connected to what is good and true within me.

Our brothers and sisters can offer profound wisdom. By “brothers and sisters,” I mean not only those related to us by blood, but also those related to us by the heart. When they share their wisdom, they often lead us home. They remind us of who we are, what we truly need, and what we may need to release. They make us pause before important decisions and ask whether we will truly be “at home” with the path we are choosing.

Many years ago, Lark and I were sailing with friends near Bequia, a small island in the southern Caribbean. Lark and the others had returned to our sailboat anchored in the bay, but I chose to remain behind in the little town of Port Elizabeth for the afternoon, until we set sail. The surroundings were so beautiful that I wanted to linger a while longer.

A statement commonly attributed to anthropologist Margaret Mead reminds us, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed it is the only thing that ever did.” 

Though it grew to be much larger, the fledgling church of my childhood had fewer than fifty people at any given service. We had a devoted minister, a loyal congregation, and a choir that really tried despite its sparse membership. My mother was in the choir because our neighbor and friend, Mrs. Winifred Bell, had invited her.

People influence one another because, whether we intend to or not, we are living examples of what we stand for and what we value.

I often hear people advising others to “Just be yourself.” But what “self” are they talking about? Do they mean our agreed-upon outward image—our personality? Those who advise us to just “be ourselves” think that by sticking to that outward image, we do not have to worry about judgments or performance, —we know the script—we just stick with it, do not try to improve it or make up another person to be. Though we know that outward image very well, is it really who we are? No. There is deeper self that far surpasses the ego’s outward personality in authenticity. This is our deepest identity in which we feel most profoundly “ourselves.” It is our real home—honest, genuine, and true. It is our essence— our soul, in which there is no need for a script or camouflage.