An Introduction

This project is a dedication of sorts. It started out as a question of how to honor a person’s light in this world, particularly if it was extinguished altogether too early.

Later, it became so much more than that. It became about honoring the inertia of someone’s impact while honoring ourselves and each other—about saying the things we need to say, while we have the time to say them. But we’ll get to that.

A Dedication

First, I’d like to tell you a bit about the inspiration for this project. Morris (call sign “Moose”) Fontenot was a force of nature. He had that unique ability to be both the life of the party while authentically present with whomever he was with. Wherever he was, there he was.

He was a fighter pilot, husband, father, son, occasional jokester. His entrance into a room was preceded by the echoes of his distinct laughter and then punctuated by his hair—a blonde tuft often pushing the envelope of military regulation with regards to upward volume. He always fully exploited a rental car’s capabilities. He, in my opinion, was a really bad singer—mostly because he interrupted his own singing with his aforementioned distinct laugh, and also because he made up a lot of words.

He cared about people. A lot.

And not that popularity is an indication of a man, but in his passing, hundreds of people made their way to his celebration of life, along with three burning pianos, one eerily played by a fighter pilot brother until its strings popped. He was flying and doing what he loved when he left this planet, but his life inertia still resonates in all the lives he touched.

I am honored to have called him a friend, but his passing stirred a great deal of contemplation. At his memorial service, his mentor remarked that Moose’s goal was to have the “deepest impact on the greatest number of people.” And when he left this world, I have no doubt that he knew his worth, that he was loved by his family and those around him; and he knew, at least in part, of his impact. He loved, and he knew he was loved.

This project is in honor of my friend Moose…or rather, his life inertia, and his goal of deep impact on others.

Now, It’s Your Turn

So, here’s the deal. Each week, I will post one story of impact. Sometimes, it will be my own—a story of how someone has impacted me, whether in the long or short term of my life—and how that interaction has shaped me in some way. But ideally, most of these stories will come from YOU—sharing stories of how you’ve been impacted in small or large ways by others. And my thoughts for this project are several:

• If we knew the positive impact we had on others, it would make us more excited to get out of bed every morning.
• We’d be more aware in our interactions and intention—that we can, in fact, impact others for good. And that people can absolutely be kind.
• There are a lot of people out there being wonderful, and those stories need to be told. And, quite honestly, I’m sick of the overabundance of negative shit put out there in the world, when there are so many people doing beautiful things amidst difficult circumstances and under the radar.* And they, like all of us, need to know that what we do matters.

Right now, you may be thinking that I’m a sappy, sentimental Polyanna, and that often our lives are shaped by the negative influences of our human experience. And yes, that is absolutely true.  A few of those stories will be featured as well, though in small doses, because see #3 above’s “overabundance of negative shit.” They, too, are a reminder of our impact in this world, and I hope they illuminate our responsibility to be good to each other. They’re also a reminder that even in the face of some awful experiences, people can do incredibly beautiful things.

So, write to me. Tell me your stories, whether they’re a paragraph or over 1,000 words. If you can’t articulate it on paper, shoot me an email and I’ll try to help you give it the space it deserves.

Admittedly, I love to write, and I have a lot of stories to tell. I’ve been witness to so much impact in this world—things that remind me of kindness, grace, and the power of our shared humanity.

But…secretly, I hope I don’t write much at all. I hope the stories pour in. Because as much as I love to write, I selfishly want more than anything to dig into the goodness that is out there in this world. I want to witness your stories, so I hope you’ll share my enthusiasm to bring them to the light of day. And in that way, I’d like your stories—our stories—to honor my friend…making the biggest impact through the collective narratives of impactful individuals.**

I look forward to hearing from you.

Xo,

Cami

*I call this #quietbadassery. Feel free to use with reckless abandon!

**Many thanks to Shel, a lifetime friend, for so eloquently articulating this project. More on her impactful story in a post down the road.