Transcriber: Ilze Garda
Reviewer: Ariana Bleau Lugo Here's the deal: Life is really all about love. I'm not just saying that
because I'm a father of a newborn baby; I'm saying that because
as a teacher and as a therapist I've seen people basically
choose between two things: love or something else. What I've witnessed
and experienced is this: When people choose love, they always choose right. I was asked to speak today
on the topic of illumination, and it made me think about the way
the light inside us all can shine. My favorite way is through our love which can illuminate in our relationships. The most important relationship
that we'll ever have, is the relationship
that we have with ourselves. And next comes the relationships
that we share with one another. As simply as I can put it, we are here, on this very Earth,
to love and to be loved - and love is light. In a second, what I'd like
to do with you today, is a brief, relaxing,
guided-imagery exercise, where I'm going to have you
close your eyes and consider three expressions of light
that can return us to love. I'm going to have you close your eyes
and consider three items, and then associate each item
with a person in your life. So, let's get ready. Can I ask you to put
your feet flat on the floor, palms facing up in your lap, and when you're ready, gently allow your upper eyelids
to meet your lower eyelashes. Close your eyes
and let's everyone take a deep breath. Relax your shoulders. The first item I'd like you
to picture is the sun. Picture the sun in the big, blue sky,
feel the warmth of her rays, and consider how the sun
continues to show up every day, sharing its light and energy
unconditionally, even on a cold February morning. Is there somebody in your life
that reminds you of the sun? Somebody that loves you unconditionally? Picture that person now
and feel their love. The next item I'd like you
to picture is a lighthouse. See the light emanating
from the top of the structure at the ocean's edge
where the sea meets the land, and remember its primary purpose: To help guide sailors and boaters home. Is there somebody in your life
that helps guide you home? To your authentic self? To the truth of who you are? To the person that you're meant to be? To the path that you're meant to be on? Picture that person now and consider the direction
that they're encouraging you to head in. The last item I'd like you
to picture is a disco ball. See the light bouncing off of it, think of the energy in the room
where you might find this unique object, maybe you hear
your favorite song playing. Is there somebody in your life
that reminds you of a disco ball? Somebody that shows up
with the fun, loving energy wherever they are, wherever they go? Picture that person now and consider how they are encouraging
you to live and love. Gently float open your eyes. Today I'd like to share a story with you
about a student of mine. His name was Daniel. I met Daniel the very first year
I was a classroom teacher. I had no experience as a theology teacher
in an all-boys prep school, and somehow this little guy,
this 103-pound wrestler, he became more of a teacher to me
than a student, because he showed me
and everybody in the school building how to shine their love and their light by being an example of how it's done. You see, the same year
that I met this little guy was the same year
that I was cut from the NFL. Felt like a little bit of my light
had been taken from me when the Baltimore Ravens told me
I can no longer be their quarterback. I had trained with them all summer,
I felt like a kid in Disney, I was playing and competing
with some of my childhood heroes in stadiums
that I had only visited as a fan. Playing in the NFL
was an incredible experience, but at the end of the summer, a week before our first game,
on the last day of cuts, I was released. I had to return home to New Jersey
to figure out a new career. I had graduated
from Georgetown University with the degree in psychology,
so I guessed I could teach that, but I was hired
at an all-boys prep school to coach football and teach theology. It was kind of like a life course
for the incoming freshmen. Gave me the opportunity to teach the guys the importance of being kind,
caring and thoughtful. It really healed my broken heart. I loved teaching
as much as I loved playing football. And that's where I met Daniel. He came into my classroom
like a little disco ball. He had an energy and a light about him
that everybody wanted to be around. Daniel connected
with everybody in the school. I used to love watching him
walk the hallways. His smile was reflected back to him
in every corner. Athletes, band guys,
cool guys, smart guys, teachers and coaches, all felt the love of this pint-sized,
103-pound wrestler. People loved Daniel because he was free. He was free to be himself, and most of us know
how difficult that can be. I remember when Daniel
found out it was my birthday during his freshman year. He took it upon himself to create
a homemade birthday card for me. He even taped a Starburst candy
and a pack of Wrigley's gum to the inside. He presented it to me
in front of the class. Daniel was redefining cool, and he made it cool
to be thoughtful, caring and kind, and his classmates loved him for it. It was in this way
that our brotherly bond began. And it was during his sophomore year that Daniel started to campaign
for me to date his older cousin Lia, so that we could officially be family. (Laughter) He even brought her
to a wrestling match one weekend. I was only there
with about one other person, and Daniel had about 15 relatives
cheering him on that night. It was a beautiful night. Then Daniel came into school
the following Monday, and he was mad. He said, "Mr. Ward, you brought
your girlfriend to my wrestling match, when I brought my cousin
to introduce you?" (Laughter) I said, "Wow, Daniel, hold on a second! That girl happens to be my younger sister, (Laughter) and, second of all, I didn't know you were trying
to play matchmaker that night." It felt like a real compliment
to my teachings. My message of love and be loved
was really making an impact. For years, I've been practicing shouting commands
for the NFL football field, but I had been practicing
another message all along. I was never the type of football player
that was overly aggressive or tough. I never yelled at my teammates, and I never yell
at my students in the classroom. Some people say this may make
people walk all over you, but I believe otherwise. An older teacher once told me,
when I first began teaching, that I shouldn't smile in the classroom
until after a few months have gone by. (Laughter) I guess the theory is that the students
would think I was tough, but I love to smile, and I have a different theory. I believe that
the toughest guy in the room is not the football guy; it's the loving guy. It's the most manly thing
that can ever be accomplished. It's not that difficult to do, but it requires great thought and courage. I loved football because I thought
it was one of the finest team sports. When we're on the field, playing together, relating as teammates, defending each other,
protecting each other, doing a little dance in the end zone
to celebrate the points we score - Football was really about relationships. And so is love. Love is a team sport. A team that we are all a part of. And on this team, Daniel is an all-star. But Daniel never had
the glory of an end zone dance, or even a dance at his junior prom. And that's because his life
extinguished way too early. One night, during Daniel's junior year, in February, he was rolling up the mats
with his wrestling buddies, and he collapsed in pain. Daniel suffered an aortic aneurysm, and he died
early the next morning in hospital. It was tragic. The date was February 7th, 2002. Exactly 12 years ago today. I don't think it's any coincidence
that I'm here today with the opportunity to share Daniel's story with you. Daniel is my lighthouse. When the water is dark and dangerous, the lighthouse can provide
a warm and inviting light, almost as if to say, this way home. Daniel brought me home
literally by bringing me to his home. The night after he died,
I visited his family, along with the number
of other teachers from our school. We were all greeted
by Daniel's cousin Lia, who thanked us for being there
during such a devastating time. I introduced myself
as Daniel's theology teacher, and she replied, "Oh, you're the one
that Daniel wanted me to marry!" (Laughter) It was kind of like a light went on. I ended up sitting with Lia and her mom, sharing stories of Daniel
and looking at pictures. It was a really difficult time
for us both, but it hard for me not to notice that Lia had the same passion
and energy for life that I saw in Daniel. I wish he could have seen us meet. Riding home that night, I quietly recalled
my last moment with Daniel. He was visiting my class. And like many times before, Daniel would just stroll right in. And because I was sitting behind the desk,
he came over to me, and we're about the same height, and our shoulders bumped
into each other as we talked. I introduced him to the class as the 103-pound wrestler
who was having a great season, and the younger guys
just looked at him in awe. Here was this guy,
smaller than most of them, but he carried so much weight
and loving energy. On his way out
of the classroom that morning, Daniel turned over his shoulder
in his cool little way and said, "See you around, Mr. Ward." Daniel died early the next morning. Couple of weeks later,
I thought I saw Daniel at school. The student was sitting
with [his] back to me, and it looked like Daniel. And for a moment
I believed that it was him. But soon the student stood,
and it obviously wasn't Daniel. But to me the message was clear. The same love and light that I witnessed
and experienced in Daniel, could be found in everyone and everything. So I began to look for Daniel, to look for love
in everyone and everything, and at the crucial point in my life,
even in myself. Daniel was right when he said,
"See you around." Because the same love in him
is within us all. Just as I tell my students back at school, there is so much goodness in you, and you are all, each and everyone of you, worthy of love and belonging, just as you are, imperfectly perfect. And once you begin open yourself to love, you will learn to see it everywhere, creating a peace, a freedom and a truth that will shift your overall,
entire experience. Think about it. If I stand right here
and I shift just a little bit, my view changes entirely. The same is true for love. If we can begin to make an effort to love and be loved
without any conditions, we will bring a whole new level of meaning to our relationships
and to our experience. I'm going to ask you
to close your eyes one more time. Picture the sun. Author Anthony de Mello writes: "Has the Sun ever said
to the Earth: you owe me. Look what happens to a love like that.
It lights up the whole sky." Is there somebody in your life
that can use a little unconditional love? Picture that person now. Remember the lighthouse. Remember its primary purpose:
To help guide sailors and boaters home. Is there somebody in your life
that can use a little guidance, a little direction? Picture that person now. And, lastly, picture the disco ball. Daniel was free to be himself because he loved himself unconditionally. We could all reflect
a little bit of love back home, so that we can dance
like nobody is watching. Is there something in your life
that you've been waiting to do? Gently float open your eyes and smile. Twelve years ago, after Daniel died, I decided to ask his cousin Lia out
for dinner in his honor. We had so much to talk about, and I'm happy to tell you that,
four years after that, I asked Lia to marry me. She continues
to light up my life every day, Lia is my sunshine,
and now we have two sons. Our oldest is almost three,
and his name is John Daniel, whom we affectionately call J.D., and he's our little disco ball. We also have another son,
who is just 12 weeks old now. His name is Casey Christian,
and he's our little lighthouse. When people ask Lia if the boys will play football in the NFL
someday like their daddy did, she says, "Maybe." But our only wish for them
is to truly live a life where they can love and be loved. Thank you very much. (Applause)
