Get your stars out

Get your stars out

Terry Hill is a writer who has lived all over the world and has been a
friend of mine since we met each other in the sixth grade in
Birmingham, Michigan. His short story, "Cafes Are for Handicapping,"
features an intriguing character named Joe Warner who liked to tell
stories about horse racing.

Joe Warner told the story of being in the press box at Belmont when
Secretariat put away the Triple Crown by 31 lengths.
"And I looked beside me when he was coming down the stretch at all
these hardened, cigar-chomping New York newspapermen and they all
had tears running down their cheeks like little babies. 'Course I couldn't
see too clear myself for the tears in my eyes. I was 23 at the time. And
it was the first Triple Crown in my lifetime. Imagine that."
That story brought me even closer to a question I've been asking all my
life. Why do we cry when we see huge accomplishments? Why do we
cry at weddings? Why do I cry when the blind girl jumps with her horse
in the movie Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken? Or when the Titans win the
game in Denzel Washington's Remember the Titans? Why did those
sportswriters cry to see that horse win by 31 lengths?
This is my theory: We weep for the winner inside of all of us. In these
poignant moments, we cry because we know for a fact that there is
something in us that could be every bit as great as what we are
watching. We are, for that moment, the untapped greatness we are
seeing. But we get tears in our eyes, because we know the greatness
isn't being realized. We could have been like that, but we aren't.
Terry Hill also gives public talks on creativity. His own work in
advertising and public relations throughout the years has won countless
awards and, as one might expect, he presents some learned and
sophisticated formulae for "creating." But he finishes all his talks by
saying it is really a simple thing to be creative—all you do is "get your
stars out." That's how you tap into the untapped you.

His reference is to Seymour: An Introduction by J.D. Salinger. Seymour
is writing a letter to his brother Buddy, who has chosen to become a
professional writer. Seymour tells his brother that writing has always
been more than a profession, that it has been more like Buddy's religion.
He says that Buddy will be asked two very profound questions when he
dies about the writing he was doing: 1) "Were most of your stars out?";
and 2) "Were you busy writing your heart out?"
Terry Hill's advice to his audiences on the subject of creativity is to
make sure you "get your stars out." This is another way of saying let the
stars that are in you shine freely. Don't force them out. Just let them
shine.

Although Hill's audiences are usually advertising people and writers, his
recommendations apply to all of us. Our lives are ours to create. Do we
want to create them in a lackluster way or do we want to be inspiring?
When we write our plans and dreams, we need to write our hearts out.
In shooting for the stars, it's time to get a bit wild. Wild hearts can't be
broken.

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