I was the Grand Marshal of the Columbus Day parade, and I liked it so much it scared me.
I walked down the street with people clapping on both sides. If I waved, they waved back. If I smiled, they smiled back. So what if they had no idea who I was? I still ate it up.
The best part was that I got to wear a sash that went sideways across my body, Miss-America style. This was a thrill for a girl who was always The Smart One. For once, I felt like The Pretty One. And let me tell you a secret: every Smart One wants to be The Pretty One.
But back to the point.
It turned out that I love a parade, especially when I’m in it. I didn’t think I had a big ego, but being a Grand Anything will swell your head. By the time I got home, I could barely fit it through the front door.
I was having Delusions of Grand Marshal.
By bedtime, long after the parade had ended, my ego was only getting bigger. I tried to stuff it back into my body, but I’m only five foot two and it had inflated to the size of a bouncy house. I was full of myself, literally. I almost kept my sash on, because it looked so great with my pajamas.
Then I tried to stop thinking about me, me, me for just one moment. I reflected on the other important points of the Columbus Day parade:
That it celebrated the cultural pride and accomplishments of Italian-Americans. Those thoughts helped a little. At least I recalled that there were other people in the world, other than me. But the most important person that day wasn’t any of those people, or me.
The Guest of Honor was Christopher Columbus, and my thoughts turned to him.
We learned in school that he sailed the ocean blue and discovered America, but we have learned since that he didn’t find exactly what he was looking for. And of course, as they say, mistakes were made. As a result, there are people, in other cities, who picket the Columbus Day parade.
If they had picketed mine, this Grand Marshal would have given them a swift kick. In heels.
Because Columbus wasn’t alone in his mistakes. The colonization of many countries, including this one, produced some of the worst injustices in human history. We all used to think that might made right, and it’s a lesson we haven’t learned completely, even today.
And what is undeniable about Columbus is that he set out into uncharted territory, against all odds, risking his life to follow a dream, believing profoundly in himself, and God. Columbus’s diary of his journeys, and he kept excellent notes, reveals that his crews were profoundly religious men, praying often. They were praying that Columbus was right.
They didn’t want to fall off the edge of the world.
I thought about Columbus then, and about our own uncharted territory, both the good and bad. A new baby; a new diagnosis. Love is uncharted territory. So is life. We truly do not know what will happen to us tomorrow. All of it is un-mapped to us, yet we sail on.
We will make mistakes.
We will be capable of great cruelty and great kindness.
We will meet those who love us and those who don’t. They might even picket our parade. Some call them haters. I call them book critics.
We might not find exactly what we were looking for.
And the odds are that we will find things that others have already found. Just this morning I discovered again how wonderful it feels to have the sun on my face. It’s not a new discovery, or one as big as a continent, but it’s still a thrill. And I get credit for making it. So do you.
All of our little discoveries will be new to us, and the happiness they bring can’t be underestimated, nor should they be. They shouldn’t go uncredited, either, nor should our efforts. On the contrary, both should be celebrated, our voyages and our discoveries.
We are all of us explorers in this life.
Christopher Columbus reminds us to sail on, to have faith, and to trust that we won’t fall off.
Andiamo.
Let’s go.