Sharing – Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership

Bringing Home the Moonbeams

There’s a line in a Frank Sinatra song that asks if we’d like to, “…carry moonbeams home in a jar.” A crazy idea. Moonbeams can’t be contained or put in a jar, but their magic can be carried home just the same. What if we could carry home the kind of wonder and light that moonbeams represent?

Life throws challenges at us every day. Deadlines. Difficult conversations. The relentless tug-of-war between expectations and reality. Yet, amid the noise, we often stumble upon moments of beauty. Unexpected acts of kindness, moments of connection with strangers, or simply a sunrise or sunset that stops us in our tracks. These are moonbeams.

Have you ever met someone for the first time and felt their kindness so deeply that it stayed with you? Maybe it was a stranger who gave you directions with a smile, a colleague who truly listened, or someone who saw you struggling and extended their hand. These are glimpses of humanity’s greatness. Magic moments where we see the best of who we are reflected in someone else.

What if we made it our mission to carry that magic home with us?

It’s easy to bring home the worries of the day. Our frustrations, our stresses, our nagging self-doubt. But alongside these, we can also bring moonbeams: the small, bright moments of beauty, hope, and love that we encounter every day. We can share the wonder of a chance conversation, the joy of something new we learned, or the inspiration we felt when we saw someone overcoming adversity.

Carrying moonbeams is about being conscious of what we pass on to those we love. It’s about choosing to share curiosity instead of cynicism, gratitude instead of grumbling. It’s about being the explorer who brings back stories of the world’s beauty to share with those at home, inspiring them to see the magic in their own lives, too.

Imagine if we all carried moonbeams in our metaphorical jars. How much brighter would our homes, our communities, and our world become?

What if we could embrace the day with the motivated curiosity of an explorer. Purposely looking for the moonbeams—the fleeting magic of kindness, beauty, and connection.

Imagine carrying them home to share, not in jars, but in our words, our actions, and our presence.

Because moonbeams, once shared, have a way of multiplying.

Photo by me, capturing a “moonbeam” of a sunrise view outside my kitchen window the other day

Blindness and Elephants

The story of the blind men and the elephant originated in India.

The story of the blind men and the elephant originated in India. It then spread across the world and through history in various versions. Here’s the main story line:

Once upon a time, there lived six blind men in a village. One day the villagers told them, “Hey, there is an elephant in the village today.” They had no idea what an elephant was. They decided, “Even though we would not be able to see it, let us go and feel it anyway.”

“Hey, the elephant is a pillar,” said the first man, who touched his leg.

“Oh, no! It’s like a rope,” said the second man, who touched the tail.

“Oh, no! It’s like a thick branch of a tree,” said the third man, who touched the trunk of the elephant.

“It’s like a big hand fan” said the fourth man, who touched the ear of the elephant.

“It’s like a huge wall,” said the fifth man, who touched the belly of the elephant.

“It’s like a solid pipe,” said the sixth man, who touched the tusk of the elephant.

They began to argue about the elephant and each of them insisted that he was right. It looked like they were getting agitated. A wise man was passing by and saw this. He stopped and asked them, “What is the matter?”

They said, “We cannot agree what the elephant is like.” Each one of them told what he thought the elephant was like.

The wise man calmly explained to them, “All of you are right. The reason every one of you is telling it differently is that each of you touched a different part of the elephant.”

What part of the elephant are you holding onto?

Are you willing to listen to the way others describe the elephant?

Are you aware of your blindness?

The Candy Store

Imagine you’re a candy lover…

Imagine you’re a candy lover. You like all types of candy. Actually, that’s not so hard to imagine for most of us.

Imagine you’re placed inside a candy store. Every type of candy is there. All of your favorites, and some that you’ve always wanted to try, are right there for you. New flavors arrive all the time.

You get to have as much candy as you want. No worries about calories, sugar content, cavities, or the inevitable sugar crash. Just great candy, and it’s all yours.

Two rules:

you only get thirty minutes
you can’t take any of the candy with you

I’ve come to view life as that candy store…especially since I’ve been in here for at least fifteen of my minutes.

Here are seven things I’ve learned about the candy store, so far:

It’s important to get the lay of the land before grabbing handfuls of candy.
The best flavors are the most subtle, and often take time to enjoy.
Some candy flavors mix well, others, not so much.
I’ll never be able to taste all of the candy in the store, and that’s okay.
There are just about as many sour candies as there are sweet. The sour ones help me appreciate the sweet flavors even more.
Most of the candy melts in your hand if you hold on to it for too long.
The best candy, whether sweet or sour, is the candy that you share with those you love.