For big impact: Dream Big .... (Just not in the way you think)

If you’ve ever spent 5 minutes around a coach, self-help book, or motivational speaker, you will have heard the phrase, “Dream big!” 

Dreaming big is a great and necessary tool to in the quest to grow our capacity as human beings. However, in my experience, the phrase is often more narrowly applied than is helpful. 

Often times, when humans dream big, they exclusively apply it to the external, tangible world. Dreams of building large companies and receiving 5-star reviews tend to take center stage. Dreams of overflowing bank accounts and ending world hunger come to mind.

All of these aforementioned dreams are great - don’t get me wrong. But if they are all we are focusing on, we can start to believe that the only way we have a large impact in this world is when we can physically see it.

And that’s entirely untrue. 

My father’s side of my family is, by all definitions, an incredibly tight knit group of people.

I, however, have always existed somewhat on the outskirts of their community. This is nobody’s fault, and not necessarily a bad thing - but it’s a thing. Whether it has been due to differences in language, religion, culture, location, or upbringing - there are only a handful of family members on that side who I’ve really gotten to know. 

One of the first family members I got to know was my cousin Bilal.

I met Bilal and his brother Ali in Lebanon when I was just 10 years old. While I had never been to Lebanon before, it was a homecoming for my father so there was a constant flurry of people and activity. The entire experience was incredibly overwhelming for me. The combination of my sensory overload and lack of understanding of the language caused me to feel isolated and on edge.

Ali and Bilal became a social and emotional lifeline for me during my first month in Lebanon. They were around my age, knew both English and Arabic, and knew the country well. They translated what was happening around us, helped me to feel comfortable in our surroundings, and together we played an inordinate amount of a particular game involving bottle caps. 

It’s amazing how quickly we humans categorize each other - even at a young age. As he skillfully translated both the language and social contexts for me, it became very evident to me that 11 year old Ali was smart. However, Bilal became labelled in my mind as having the biggest heart. 

One day, during an intense game of bottle caps, Ali tried to cheat in a play against me. Bilal, seeing this injustice, promptly punched his brother. It was clear that at only 7 years old, Bilal had an unshakeable moral compass and would not stand by while his brother tried to take advantage (even if it was just a game). 

I remember feeling distinctly safe in that moment. Nobody had ever fought for me like that before! I didn’t need safety from Ali’s dishonest bottle caps techniques, but it was nice to know that I had cousins who were there for me in this country I didn’t know. I had people! And for a month of my young life - those people were Ali and Bilal.

It is fitting that the last time I saw Bilal was also in Lebanon.

About a year ago, we crossed paths for 24 hours in the apartment in which we first met. I had just landed to the beginnings of a country-wide revolution, and the roads around Beirut and to the airport were quickly becoming blocked with fires, protestors, and rioters. Bilal was flying to America later than night. 

Having just had a dumpster of literal fire thrown at my car, my nerves were pretty wrecked. Here I was again, in a country I knew a little bit better, still without the language skills, feeling overwhelmed and scared. 

And just like 20 years before, Bilal was the one whose actions made me feel safe. 

My childhood assessment was right - Bilal had an exceptionally big heart. While I did not grow up closely with him, I watched from afar as he indiscriminately showered the many members of our family with bounds of compassion and love. In adulthood, that big heart translated into a relentless sense of light cheer and goofiness with a permanent smile that stretched from ear to ear. 

When the time came for him to go to the airport, the roads were still blocked. The only way to get close was by moped.

So, with that never-ending grin, Bilal fearlessly piled himself and his two large suitcases onto the back of a moped. It was something straight out of a comedy routine - the moped version of a clown car. 

But he made it! An hour later, as promised he would, he was posting pictures of himself laughing at the airport on his Instagram. “It was crazy! But I made it no big deal!” he messaged to me. And just like that, I felt lighter, more relaxed, and less scared than I had a few hours before.

We simply do not know the impact we have on others.

We just don’t.

And while there is incredible value in dreaming big when it comes to our vision for serving others, making a difference, and changing the world - it’s important to not lose the forest through the trees. 

Should you dream big? Yes, absolutely. But, don’t just dream big about your projects, or lifestyle, or level of fame. 

Dream big about what you want for this world. And then be more of that. 

If you want more peace, be a little be more peaceful. 

If you want more happiness, laugh a little bit more.

If you want more love, love a little bit harder.

At the end of it all, the difference we make boils down to who we are and how we are being. Making a difference is accessible to everyone, everywhere, at every moment. Whether you are indignantly righting the wrong of your brother cheating your cousin in a game of bottle caps, or you are refusing to stop laughing during moments of stress and despair - your way of being is having a ripple effect on everyone around you. 

So who are you choosing to be?

Bilal Chehab, a loving brother, son, cousin, and human passed away suddenly on September 15th, 2020. Bilal - your big smile and big heart will be so, so missed.