This post is dedicated to Alicia Parlette, her family and best friends.

Photo Credit: Monique Sady, Alicia Parlette's Facebook Page

In 2005, Alicia Parlette, a copy editor who had just started her career at the San Francisco Chronicle, was diagnosed with a rare form of incurable cancer at age 23.  Some people might have chosen to deal with a cancer diagnosis and treatment privately, but from those early days of testing and diagnosis, Alicia had an opportunity to write about her experiences.  She embraced that opportunity fully, and as a result, touched thousands upon thousands of lives.

This morning, I was saddened to read about her death.  And as my eyes devoured the Chronicle story, I found myself moved to tears, and became thoroughly inspired by the way she lived her last few years.  Alicia might have spent only 28 short years in this world, but  she had taught us so many of life’s precious lessons by showing us how to live.  What are these lessons?  Here are my top three, and I’m sure there are many, many more…

• Find Blessings in the Midst of Tragedy – Alicia wrote that “tragedies are linked with blessings, and that among my many blessings is a chance to write my story.”  Instead of moping and shutting down, Alicia wrote about her experiences with courage and warmth and opened up her world to many others who may have had to face similar situations.  Her Facebook page is full of wall posts from people thanking her for having inspired them.  Here are a couple:  “My dad has cancer, and reading about her struggle helps me and continues to as my dad fights against this horrible disease.” (Leslie Beebe).   “To her family and closest friends… I, too, watched and waited as I lost my best friend… the longest and yet most meaningful three weeks of my life.” (Linda Petsche)

• Pursue Your Dream – Come rain or sunshine, sleet or snow, or even the dreaded Cancer, Alicia never lost sight of her dream to become a writer.  She wrote that that “if I go through this life-changing ordeal and my body just wears out and I die, I will die a writer. The one thing I’ve always wanted to be.”  Indeed, the one thing she had always wanted to be, she became.  Shortly after the very first part of her series titled “Alicia’s Story” was published, the San Francisco Chronicle received an outpouring of feedback – more than 2,300 people from around the world wrote, emailed, called or posted online comments.  Alicia had struck a chord.  Alicia’s story was their story.  Alicia, you became a writer indeed, and one who will not be forgotten for a long, long, long time.

• Life is Never Too Short to Love - I read of the love between Alicia and Lucas Beeler, about how they met on BART back in October, and how even as her last days drew closer, they decided to have  a private commitment ceremony.  And by the time I got to the part about Lucas giving her the wedding ring worn by his mother and grandmother, I could not stop my brimming tears.  
  

As one of the thousands of others who relate to your story, having had parents who were diagnosed with cancer, and having lost my dad and having survived cancer myself, I thank you deeply, and salute you for sharing your story and your life with us.  You may have lived 28 short years, but from the number of people you have touched, the lives you have changed, the pure soul that so clearly shines through in your writings, you must have lived at least 200 years, not!?

***

Note:  Contributions in Alicia’s memory may be sent to the Alicia Parlette Fund for Aspiring Journalists, Reynolds School of Journalism, Mail Stop 310, University of Nevada, Reno, NV 89557.  You can also share your thoughts, memories, prayers, or make a donation in her name at www.msparlette.com.

If you enjoyed this post, you might enjoy these too:

• How did a poem save Nelson Mandela’s life?
• Finding meaning in the midst of despair
• Success of failure… Does it matter?

This post is dedicated to my Singapore family and board members of the Singapore America Business Association and SingaporeConnect.

Growing up in Singapore, I spent many Chinese New Years basking in the carefree banter of a huge extended family, soaking in the vibrant festivities, collecting Ang Paos (red envelops with money!) and wolfing down bak kwa (jerky), pineapple tarts and candy.

We went from relative’s house to relative’s house in a convoy of cars – parents, uncles and aunts with screaming, gleeful kids in tow.  I played and ate at every stop, not realizing those were precious familial moments I would come to miss as I moved to the United States years later.

Well, it’s been too many years since I spent Chinese New Year in Singapore.  I have gotten used to simply celebrating as a little family, and have grudgingly accepted that this day is a regular work day this side of the Pacific Ocean.

But thankfully this year, my spirits lifted with a “shot of inspiration” from the Singapore America Business Association (SABA) and SingaporeConnect (SC).  My husband and I signed up for a SABA-organized Chinese New Year dinner party.  I dressed in a mandarin-collar outfit, sauntered into the Great Mall Mayflower Restaurant in Milpitas, and had a blast!  Well, literally, lion dancers “blasted” into the restaurant as cymbals clashed and drums rolled.  Some 300 people (including many kids) stood mesmerized by their agile jumps and kicks.  Catching up with friends old and new, partaking in a delightful 10-course meal of lor hey (new year dish), pepper crabs, roasted chicken, steamed fish and more, plus getting charmed by karaoke entertainers, I was transported that evening to a “home away from home.”

There are so many of us living in the Bay Area, in the larger United States, who left pieces of ourselves behind when we left our home countries.  How often have we thought back with nostalgia of the many festivities and family members who used to fill our days?  Now in our adopted country, these feelings become stronger during Chinese New Year.

But for that evening, some 300 of us who were far away from home experienced a slice of home.  Many amongst us didn’t have the chance to fly back for that reunion dinner, but we were able to eat, drink, laugh and ring in the Year of the Tiger with our “extended family” in a big and memorable way.

Special thanks to SABA and SC, especially Isabelle Lee and William Chang, for creating community home away from home.

Happy Chinese New Year everyone!

I haven’t stop thinking about 94-year-old Carmen Herrera ever since I read about her in The New York Times. Her story is such a shot of inspiration that I just have to write about it here.

The story goes that Carmen has a deep love for painting.  It was a compulsion, something she simply couldn’t stop doing.  She started painting back in the 1930s, when she was in her ’20s.  Her paintings focused mostly on geometrical shapes and lines, forms and colors, and were considered  “ahead of her time.”

Carmen Herrera's Painting, Image by cliff1066 via Flickr

Carmen was born in Cuba, lived in New York and Paris and eventually settled in New York.   Through the years, she labored quietly and produced a huge quantity of paintings.  But it was many, many years later, at age 89, that she sold her very first painting.  Today, her art is in in high demand and a recent painting sold at a whopping $44,000!

Now, at age 94, while homebound, resigned to a wheel-chair and afflicted with arthritis, she receives a Lifetime Achievement Award from The Walker Art Center.  The New York Times story quoted several people on her late-life success:

To bloom into full glory at 94 — whatever Carmen Herrera’s slow rise might say about the difficulties of being a woman artist, an immigrant artist or an artist ahead of her time, it is clearly a story of personal strength,” Mr. Zugazagoitia said.

We have a saying in Puerto Rico,” he said. “The bus — la guagua — always comes for those who wait.”   This came from her good friend Tony Bechara.

Indeed, the bus did come for Carmen and she is now basking in her success.  Reading Carmen’s story teaches me one thing:   If you have a passion, keep at it, keep at it, keep at it.  I’m willing to bet that even if Carmen didn’t receive the recognition she recently received, she will still paint, paint and paint and love, love and love it!

If you enjoyed this post, you might want to read these as well:

• Success Or Failure, Does It Matter?
• How Did A Poem Save Nelson Mandela’s Life?
• Moments Of Gratitude
• Wishing You Time… To Do The Things You Love

Image by LSE Library via Flickr

I have heard much about Nelson Mandela’s 27 years in prison and his eventual release and election as South Africa’s first president in a representative democratic election.  But I didn’t know how he survive those long, drawn-out years in a tiny prison cell on Robben Island, until I saw the movie Invictus.

In a conversation on the big screen with Francois Pienaar (Matt Damon, the captain of South Africa’s rugby team), Mandela (Morgan Freeman) shared with Pienaar that during his darkest moments in prison, his spirit was lifted and sustained by the poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley, and that he would not have made it through prison if not for the words of this English poet who lived from 1849 to 1903.

In that instant, I was reminded of the power of words to heal and inspire.  I was also reminded how our lives are more intertwined than we realize.  After the movie, I researched further and learned that Henley had written the poem from a hospital bed during a traumatic time after his leg was amputated.  I am sure he didn’t know that one day, many years later, his poem would deeply touch and save another great man – Nelson Mandela – who survived his darkest years to become South Africa’s “national liberator, savior, its George Washington and Abraham Lincoln rolled into one (Newsweek).”

I am completely blown away that a poem had saved Mandela’s life and perhaps changed the course of history forever.   Its message is simple.  Indeed Henley and Mandela led by example and showed us how to be “the masters of our fate, the captains of our souls.”

Well, without further ado, here’s the poem, may you be inspired!

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Image by Rennett Stowe via Flickr

One of the most uplifting, paradigm-shifting quotations I have read is an eloquent reflection on success, failure and courage, by Theodore Roosevelt, the 26th president of the United States.

“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotion, spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who have never tasted victory or defeat.” ~Theodore Roosevelt

I first read this quotation during my early college years, and still remember my eyes widening and my mind doing an about-turn.

You see, I used to tie success to outcomes.  Did I pass or did I fail?  Was that performance good enough?  Or was it bad?  Did I win?  Or did I lose?

But Roosevelt reminds me that there is a better way to look at success and failure.  Sure, we have aspirations.  A small group of us may even dream of becoming CEO of a Fortune 500 company, or a Tour De France champion, or a doctor who finds the cure for cancer, or someone with a glorious marriage.  And an even smaller group may realize some of these dreams and “know the triumph of high achievement.”

But what really matters, according to Roosevelt, is that we stay true to our dreams, get on “the arena” and “strive valiantly” even if “we err and come short.”

Liberating!  This means we don’t have to “win” with every dream and aspiration.  What matters more, is that we find the courage and devotion to give ourselves to a worthy cause.

So success or failure, does it matter?  Maybe not as much as we think, for in one courageous act, lies our victory – victory over fear, victory over self.

I had a boss once.  His name was Fred Hoar.  He taught me in small spades, and made me laugh in  big spades. These were some of his famous lines on PR:

* “In advertising, you pay for play.  In public relations, you pray for play!”

* Public relations has seven times the reach of advertising.  Advertising costs seven times more than public relations.”

Even after I left my old company and started my own public relations firm, he stayed in my life as my mentor and my firm’s advisory board member.  We met for our mentoring sessions regularly, often over a meal.  One day, we were sitting at an Italian restaurant when the waiter handed us the menus.  Fred took out his glasses, placed them on his nose upside down, looked down at the menu, then looked at me through those goofy glasses and said, “Things are looking up!” I laughed, instantly forgetting my troubles of the moment.

Fred was a Silicon Valley legend, having played important roles at seminal companies like Fairchild Semiconductor, Raychem, Apple and more.  He was one of PR Week’s top 100 influential PR people of the 20th century.  He was also a coveted public speaker.  Once, he started a speech with the following line, “My name is Fred Hoar. I know I have a challenging last name.  Well, I have four daughters, and I call this “character development!” The audience cackled.

These memories are still fresh in my mind, even though it has been more than five years since he passed away.  When he died, a friend said to me, “Fred’s PR DNA has been passed on to you and his mentees.  Make him proud and pass it on.” I look back now and wonder how many times I have quoted him in new business meetings or staff training sessions to underscore the value of public relations.  I think back to how many times I have literally fiddled with glasses over a menu, flipped them upside down and said to family or friends over a meal that “Things are looking up!”

I thank my lucky stars that I once had a mentor in Fred Hoar.  He taught me more than public relations knowhow. He taught me the value of laughter no matter the circumstances, and the gift of time and advice to those younger and seeking.

Do you have deep knowledge and skills in your industry? Are you a mentor?  If yes, thank you for making a difference. If not, why not start today?  Or do you long to learn more from a seasoned veteran in your field?  Then be a mentee.

A mentor-mentee relationship could be a structured one, like the mentoring programs offered through various professional networking groups.  Or it could be an informal one, where two individuals at a workplace pair up, one to mentor, and one to be mentored.  Do you know of a good mentorship program?  Have your life changed after you became a mentor or mentee?  Do share!