Leading With Your Heart

Essentially, I’ve always been a geek. I lead more with my head than with my heart. But maybe because it’s been awhile since I’ve spent any time solving differential equations on my computer (although tomorrow I’m going to go help someone do just that; it’ll be déjà vu day for me), I’m getting better at nurturing. Or maybe it’s just getting older. Who knows? All I know is that I use my heart to guide me far more than I ever did. And I think that’s a good thing.

I’ve met people who I believe have little or no capacity for love. And I can’t imagine living like that. It’s a very dark place to be.

Then I’ve met people who exude honest warmth and caring. It emanates from their pores. You can just feel it. When they walk into a room, just their presence makes everything better. That’s a gift. You have to born with that kind of nurturing spirit.

Yesterday, I went to get a present for my sweetie and the saleswoman reminded me of my mother. She looked like my mom when she was in her thirties. She walked like my mom. It was kind of eerie. Her accent was different, though. It wasn’t Polish. It was Arabic. And when I asked her where she was from, she said Jerusalem. She gave me a knowing look. And then she said, “You’re from there, too, aren’t you?” I have a vague accent, but it isn’t from the Middle East. But I knew what she meant. I look Israeli. I said, “I’ve lived there, yes.”

We talked about Jerusalem. It’s a beautiful city. When I was there, I would walk the streets and I could feel just how special a place it is. Back then there were no suicide bombers. There were no Israeli settlements in the West Bank. Then war broke out and the place has never been the same.

We talked about what a mess Israel is now. She said that she wanted to move back, but her children, born in the US, hated it. I understood. Israel is a place I could live again, but I can’t imagine my wife living there. And it’s so different – so much bleaker and harsher - now than it was when I was a kid that it likely would be a frustrating and depressing place to live.

She wanted peace, she said. Her details of what peace would entail would no doubt be different than mine. But it wasn’t a time to discuss that. I didn't want to talk politics, that's for sure. But I could feel her longing for a Jerusalem without war.

At heart, everyday people in Israel and Palestine want a safe place for the ones they love. I really believe that. And if we would simply let the desires of those everyday people govern policy – if we governed with our hearts – it just might be that peace in the Middle East would be attainable. I told her I wanted peace as well. And we left it at that.

Here’s wishing peace and love to everyone on this special day and more importantly beyond.