Want to live your best life?

Be a bumblebee.

Here’s why: Bumblebees are not designed to fly. Their bodies are too heavy for their small, light wings—wings that by all scientific reason should not be able to keep them in the air.

But the bumblebee refuses to accept its limitations. It flies in spite of what others say it cannot do. It knows its strength.

You might know some bumblebees. I do. I’d like to share a few stories about some remarkable bumblebees—not celebrities or politicians, but everyday people like you. Like me. You may have never heard of them, but their stories are inspiring. To read more, click the button below.

Liz Murray grew up in poverty; her addicted parents spent all their welfare money on drugs. Liz and her sister were left starving, often eating nothing but ice cubes and toothpaste. Her mother died of AIDS, and when her father didn’t pay the rent, the family became homeless. At age seventeen, Liz decided to go to high school and earn her diploma. The school officials told her she had too much going against her—that she’d never be able to do it. She earned her diploma in just two years by doing a year’s worth of work each semester. Then Liz was accepted on scholarship to Harvard. She captured the journey in her bestselling memoir, Breaking Night.

 

In 1943, Stamatis Moraitis immigrated from Greece to the United States so he could achieve the American dream. In 1976, he was diagnosed with cancer and told by doctors that he had six months to live. Too poor to afford the treatments, Stamatis refused chemotherapy and returned to the place of his birth, the Greek island of Ikaria. The medical professionals all told him he’d never survive without the chemo. Stamatis responded by immersing himself in gardening and his parents’ vineyard. He went on to live another 40 years, surviving all the doctors who had diagnosed him. He died in 2013 at the age of 102.

 

Yosseph “Yossi” Ghinsberg fulfilled a lifelong dream in 1981 by traveling with three friends into the heart of the Amazon rainforest. Many told him he could never survive such an escapade. They said he was a fool. After weeks of wandering in the dense undergrowth, the four backpackers split up into two groups. But when a terrible rafting accident separated Yossi from his partner, he was forced to survive for three weeks alone without a knife, map, or survival training; he had to improvise shelter and forage for wild fruit to survive. As his feet began to rot during raging storms, he lost all sense of direction. Yossi almost drowned, faced venomous snakes and jaguars, starved, and even suffered hallucinations. His book, Lost in the Jungle, documents his experience. 

 

I have been blessed to cross paths with some extraordinary bumblebees in my own life. There’s the man who was born into chaos and was shuffled from one side of the country to the other multiple times, going from one family to another, never knowing his father and being rejected by his mother, being exposed to drugs, and being sexually abused by a handful of monstrous men. Told by his own family that he would never succeed in moving past his staggering history, he ignored the naysayers. He became a brilliant and determined network security engineer.

There’s the woman who was told she would never overcome her decades-long drug addiction. She mastered the challenging training and serves as a motivational speaker and drug/alcohol rehabilitation counselor, changing lives every day.

There’s the man who was told, after failing the LSAT two times, that he couldn’t do it—that he just didn’t have what it took to be an attorney. That he’d better start thinking about Plan B. He took that daunting exam a third time and sent out a new round of applications. Today, he’s soaring through his first year of law school.

There’s the woman who escaped with her life from an abusive marriage. She was told by doctors and therapists that she was too broken to flourish. She earned three advanced degrees and myriad awards and raised a solid, accomplished family. For almost four decades she touched the lives of countless students at the university in her hometown.

There’s the man who was driving his son across the nation to college and was almost killed when the car’s engine exploded. His leg, crushed and irretrievably damaged, was amputated. He was told he could no longer pursue his medical career—that the effects of his multiple injuries were too severe. He is now a skilled and respected cardiologist who has saved my life and the lives of many others.

Those are just some of my bumblebees. And at times when I feel my hope waning, I silence myself. It’s then that a low, mesmerizing buzz drifts into my heart and mind and spirit—the sound almost too quiet to hear. The sound reminding me that no matter how tiny my wings, I can decide to fly.

I’m surrounded by bumblebees. I’m betting you are too. In fact, I’m betting you’re a bumblebee, even if you don’t quite know it yet. So, when someone tells you that your creation was no good, or that you’re not smart enough to write a book, or not determined enough to reach your goal, or not strong enough to conquer your obstacle, or not brave enough to face your trial, refuse to accept those limitations. Decide to fly.

Be a bumblebee.