Photo by Alan Sullivan
We all experience our own lives through our own lens, through our own perspective. We get caught up in it, engulfed by it, and that is who we become, and that is who we are. But behind that veil of day to day motion and commotion, there exists an invisible vein that connects all of us on a much deeper level than anything physical or mental. I contest that it exists on a metaphysical level. It is something spiritual. Something vibrational. Something magic. It's something that I feel and have always felt, and I can only assume that other people in the world feel it too. It's that connectivity between human beings that transcends all other emotions, and exposes itself in the most human form: love.
Something happened to me last week, and it changed me. I'm not certain of how much or to what extent I changed, but change happened nevertheless. And it was on this day, more specifically on my drive home that I thought of all sorts of things, and experienced all sorts of emotions revolving around karma, and being kind to your fellow man, and paying it forward, and trying your best to be an all around good human being. And if you're thinking about how strange this sounds coming from someone who punches people in the face for a living, I don't blame you. But, I would argue that everything I do out there on the ice is rooted in love, but that's an entirely different blog post all together. I will say, however, that everything I do on the ice is for the love of the game, and for the love of my family, and the ambition to keep playing for as long as I can and to take it as far as I can to see if I can reach the top and play in the best league in the world and provide for my family while doing it.
I got to thinking these thoughts after a visit to the Children's Hospital where I met a very special young man named Logan. I don't know how a bright-eyed two year old had the power to teach me life lessons that burned so deep into my being that they settled in right at my core, and got me thinking about daily promises in the future about being the best person I can be every day, and spreading that out into the world, as best I can, starting with a smile to a Starbucks barista and culminating one week later, today, when I helped a woman who fell down at the Warwick Mall, and felt that electro-connectivity, as five other people rushed to her aide and made sure she was ok.
Let's get this story back on track.
Three of us P-Bruins visited the Children's Hospital and were quickly split up and brought to different rooms. Our media coordinator handed me a stack of pictures for autographs and a black Sharpie marker. That's when I first saw a fluffy thicket of blonde hair peek up from a seemingly empty hospital bed, make eye contact with me with two giant blue eyes, and shyly duck back down, disappearing back into the hospital bed.
I was still out in the hallway and remember thinking, “I've been spotted!” And while some adults talked and informed me of how things were going to happen, and what I was supposed to say and not say, and something about a hippopotamus, I nodded my head in agreement, all the while peering over into the hospital room, but all I could see was an empty hospital bed.
I had my Bruins jersey on, and now it was time to enter the room.
That's when I came face to face with this special little man named Logan. He was very shy. I offered a hand shake, and high fives, and brought my face down to his level to try and get a smile out of him, but he was curled in a ball of timidity amidst a nest of white sheets and pillow cases.
I got to thinking these thoughts after a visit to the Children's Hospital where I met a very special young man named Logan. I don't know how a bright-eyed two year old had the power to teach me life lessons that burned so deep into my being that they settled in right at my core, and got me thinking about daily promises in the future about being the best person I can be every day, and spreading that out into the world, as best I can, starting with a smile to a Starbucks barista and culminating one week later, today, when I helped a woman who fell down at the Warwick Mall, and felt that electro-connectivity, as five other people rushed to her aide and made sure she was ok.
Let's get this story back on track.
Three of us P-Bruins visited the Children's Hospital and were quickly split up and brought to different rooms. Our media coordinator handed me a stack of pictures for autographs and a black Sharpie marker. That's when I first saw a fluffy thicket of blonde hair peek up from a seemingly empty hospital bed, make eye contact with me with two giant blue eyes, and shyly duck back down, disappearing back into the hospital bed.
I was still out in the hallway and remember thinking, “I've been spotted!” And while some adults talked and informed me of how things were going to happen, and what I was supposed to say and not say, and something about a hippopotamus, I nodded my head in agreement, all the while peering over into the hospital room, but all I could see was an empty hospital bed.
I had my Bruins jersey on, and now it was time to enter the room.
That's when I came face to face with this special little man named Logan. He was very shy. I offered a hand shake, and high fives, and brought my face down to his level to try and get a smile out of him, but he was curled in a ball of timidity amidst a nest of white sheets and pillow cases.
Photo by Alan Sullivan
His mother tried to get him out of this shell, “Logan, look who came to visit you.”
Slowly he began to look at me, and I saw the beginning stages of a smile. I pulled out a picture of me in action on the ice and asked him if he wanted an autograph. I signed the picture and handed it to him. He reached out his hand and held the picture. He looked at it for a second, placed it on the table, and extended his hand as if he wanted another one. And so I gave him another picture. Again, he took it from my hand, looked at it, and set it down next to the other picture on the bed table. We repeated this about ten times. I'm not sure how it happened but as some point, Logan flipped some of the pictures over to expose ten white, blank canvases.
And so I asked him if he wanted me to draw him a picture. I did my best to invoke the spirit of Salvador Dali, and drew a stick person holding a hockey stick. Logan grabbed the picture and laughed and laughed. Then everyone in the room laughed and laughed. Something happened in that moment.
And so I drew another picture: a bear holding a hockey stick. Again, laughter rang radiant. We repeated this process and a drew a few more pictures, and then Logan put out his hand and wanted the marker. And so we all watched as Logan drew his own pictures, and for that moment, for those twenty minutes, that kid wasn't sick in bed, in a children's hospital. He was somewhere else, and so was I. We connected on a level that isn't measured or documented. We went somewhere else, far away from that place, far away from needles and doctors and beeping machines, and entered the canvas realm, where anything is possible, and diseases are cured and conquered with the stroke of a paint brush, where colorful horizons and bright futures are the only thing we know. Shouldn't we all live in this world? Logan showed me this place, and I am changed because of it.
Slowly he began to look at me, and I saw the beginning stages of a smile. I pulled out a picture of me in action on the ice and asked him if he wanted an autograph. I signed the picture and handed it to him. He reached out his hand and held the picture. He looked at it for a second, placed it on the table, and extended his hand as if he wanted another one. And so I gave him another picture. Again, he took it from my hand, looked at it, and set it down next to the other picture on the bed table. We repeated this about ten times. I'm not sure how it happened but as some point, Logan flipped some of the pictures over to expose ten white, blank canvases.
And so I asked him if he wanted me to draw him a picture. I did my best to invoke the spirit of Salvador Dali, and drew a stick person holding a hockey stick. Logan grabbed the picture and laughed and laughed. Then everyone in the room laughed and laughed. Something happened in that moment.
And so I drew another picture: a bear holding a hockey stick. Again, laughter rang radiant. We repeated this process and a drew a few more pictures, and then Logan put out his hand and wanted the marker. And so we all watched as Logan drew his own pictures, and for that moment, for those twenty minutes, that kid wasn't sick in bed, in a children's hospital. He was somewhere else, and so was I. We connected on a level that isn't measured or documented. We went somewhere else, far away from that place, far away from needles and doctors and beeping machines, and entered the canvas realm, where anything is possible, and diseases are cured and conquered with the stroke of a paint brush, where colorful horizons and bright futures are the only thing we know. Shouldn't we all live in this world? Logan showed me this place, and I am changed because of it.
Photo by Alan Sullivan
I looked to Logan's mother, and as she smiled wide, she told me that it was a rough morning for him. She told me that he couldn't even get up this morning, that he couldn't get out of bed. She told me that she thought it was going to be a tough day for him. I looked over at him playing with his pictures in the hospital bed, and I saw a kid so full of life and energy, laughing and bouncing like a frog on a log in a bog. I couldn't even picture him sick and unable to wake. This is the Logan I know. Strong, powerful Logan. Inspiring, brave Logan. Laughing, loving Logan.
And when it was time to leave, he handed the pictures back to me. I told them that they were for him, but asked him if I could have one of his drawings for good luck. He gave me two. They are on my shelf of powerful artifacts and good luck charms above my desk, and always will be.
And when it was time to leave, he handed the pictures back to me. I told them that they were for him, but asked him if I could have one of his drawings for good luck. He gave me two. They are on my shelf of powerful artifacts and good luck charms above my desk, and always will be.
Photo by Alan Sullivan
I have thought about Logan often in the past week, and what it all meant. Why was this such a powerful experience for me? Of course I understand the position I am in as a professional athlete and the impact I can make on kid's lives. It is an honor to have that power, and I try to represent and harness it as best as I can. But there is something more to it, it's not just because I play hockey and swat a puck around and punch people in the face. It's something that everyone has and something everyone can do.
And then it struck me. It's the same idea that has been floating around in my head for the past few months regarding excellence. If you are excellent every single day, eventually you become that person. You become excellent. The same thing applies to altruism and spreading positivity in the world. If you do one thing every single day to spread positivity or one thing to make someone else's life better, you become that brush stroke that paints a better world for me, and for you, and for Logan. We are all connected in some strange way, and we all have the power to send ripples and currents of love out into the world.
So I'm doing an experiment. Starting today, Martin Luther King Day 2013, and lasting one week, I am going to give out five compliments every day. I'm going to try and brighten the day of five people every day for a week. Feel free to join the experiment and write a comment below to tell us all how it turns out.
And then it struck me. It's the same idea that has been floating around in my head for the past few months regarding excellence. If you are excellent every single day, eventually you become that person. You become excellent. The same thing applies to altruism and spreading positivity in the world. If you do one thing every single day to spread positivity or one thing to make someone else's life better, you become that brush stroke that paints a better world for me, and for you, and for Logan. We are all connected in some strange way, and we all have the power to send ripples and currents of love out into the world.
So I'm doing an experiment. Starting today, Martin Luther King Day 2013, and lasting one week, I am going to give out five compliments every day. I'm going to try and brighten the day of five people every day for a week. Feel free to join the experiment and write a comment below to tell us all how it turns out.
 Photo by Alan Sullivan |  Photo by Alan Sullivan |
A big thanks to Alan Sullivan for taking these candid photos. And here's to you, Logan. I'm rooting for you little guy. -RRR
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