The fear of failure is a pressing issue, and when it
is present, it weighs down every aspect of life. It
can show its face at any time. We know the
difficult feeling in the question “What if I fail?” But
what does failure even mean?
We think we can fail at being a parent, a teacher, a
farmer, or a friend whenever we risk losing
control, making a bad choice, or appearing unfit in
the eyes of others. But think about it this way: If
we don’t risk appearing unfit in the eyes of others,
we can never really claim to have grown past
cultural superstitions and sacred cows. If we don’t
risk experiencing mistakes, we can never gain the
wisdom that comes from making them. And if we
never risk losing control, then we’ll never
experience the freedom that lives beyond control.
This issue of Pathways represents the start of a
new chapter. I have been asked to take up the
position held by my mother, Jeanne Ohm, as
executive editor, to make the choices that, up until
now, belonged in her hands. In this transition I’ve
had to face self-doubt. I’ve had to ask myself if I
can offer anything that holds a semblance of the
force and power she embodied. Among many
other things, I’ve had to face the question: What if
I fail?
When she began publishing Pathways, Jeanne had
many aspirations in mind, all organized around a
major premise: Life expresses intelligence. I
remember as I was growing up, her passion was
the spark that lit the way forward for our family. If
I had to choose a phrase to describe this passion, I
would call it lionhearted mothering.
The lion is known around the world as a symbol of
courage and strength, representing the ability to
overcome fear. Among these attributes, the lion
also has a mysterious connection with the sun. In
many traditions, the lion is said to be the living,
breathing representation of the sun’s logos on
Earth. Acting as guardians of the balance of life,
both the lion and the sun are said to share the
same frequency, or force of the universe.
Everyone’s path is unique. We all have to confront
our own fears, challenging ourselves in our own
ways. Every mother’s path is a combination of
personal history merged with interpersonal
sharing and loving. With this comes the delight
and the struggle of family life. To overcome our
fear of failure, we have two choices. The first is to
abide in the comforts of cultural authority, which
defines success for us. The second is to realize that
we possess the lionhearted force of the sun
inherent in our own being, where the only real
task is to learn a deep love for life, and to
remember it often.
My mother remembered it often. She embodied it.
She danced to it with the greatest joy. She saw it in
others. I gained immeasurably from her, and I
know she wouldn’t want me or anyone else
“following” her path—the truth about the light of
the sun is that it’s meant to be expressed uniquely
in everyone, while remaining essentially warm,
loving, and beautiful. Among the many lessons I
learned from her is what it actually means for a
person to fail. To fail means simply to forget your
lionhearted nature wherever you are, wherever
you go. Since Jeanne was rarely one to forget, I can
say that I was fortunate never to have to fear this
failure… until she was gone. Now I know what is
being asked of me, and what is being asked of
everyone who would continue to carry the torch.
To preface this issue, as an editorial is supposed to
do, I’ll offer what I believe Jeanne Ohm saw to be
the major premise in chiropractic. It’s clear that
people desire control. Indeed, the loss of control
scares us. Yet there are moments in life—moments
like birth—where control is lost by natural design.
At these moments we realize an amazing truth: We
never really had control…at least, not the kind we
chase after in daily life. Then comes a freedom of a
higher order. Chiropractic dares to recognize this
freedom, calling it innate intelligence. And Jeanne
reminded us of it often when she said, “Life
expresses intelligence.”
The major premise of chiropractic is an alternative
to fear. The kind of care and interpersonal
coherence built from this premise can be an
amazing force for health, courage, and family wellbeing.
It’s the same power shared by the
lionhearted mother who carries an inborn love and
recognition for the intelligence of life, and who
shares this love with the next generation.
Whatever you may call it, it can be ignited like a
spark, expressed at any time, and engaged to
enlighten the body, the mind, and others around
you. Don’t be afraid to find it and express it. And
don’t fail to remember it. Choose to let it become
a fundamental part of you, so that when your kids
venture away on their own, or when you’re gone
from their sight, they will not need to strain to
remember you. Your memory will be there, in the
light of the sun. Such is one of the great gifts of the
lionhearted mother.
—John Ohm
