Wednesday 8th May - I woke and joined a North Terrace traffic jam in Adelaide at 6.30 in the morning (for anyone who doesn't know Adelaide, that was just astounding). And why? because Sir Richard Branson was coming to breakfast. I would be one of 1800 joining that breakfast but I was still excited.
Growing up I never had idols, I didn't have posters on my wall, I didn't hero worship any pop stars or politicians. I always wondered how it was that people could almost lose their senses over an individual, and that wasn't even in their presence. I understood the admiration for talent, or courage or achievement. I had that too - for many in science, technology, literature and through all areas.
But to wobble, faint and scream - what was that about?!
Occasionally the question would come up - "If you could meet anyone living or dead - who would it be? and discussions would ensue. It was a challenging list - not for lack of choice but for lack of desire to meet with anyone who wasn't already crossing my path. I would get as far as Michael Jackson as I could never believe the man we were constantly presented, and I would have preferred to meet him.
In my early 20's as I started in self employment and business, I started paying attention to a gentleman named Richard Branson. I wasn't too caught up in the actual achievements - it was more the manner or attitude he seemed to carry. He had my curiosity, but I didn't want to get his attention, nor find out what he ate for breakfast - I just wondered how real he actually was. I have never been one to be absorbed or entranced with the media, and so my curiosity was always buffered by an inner knowing that what I see or read or hear, is just that, a snippet of someones experience plus their interpretation.
In the 1990's when airline flights were scaled to unaffordable heights through lack of competition - Virgin messed up the stronghold and I once more, felt admiration stir for the individual who had the courage and perseverance to have started and finished that fight.
It was upon reading his autobiography that I felt that this man had credibility and strength and I came to admire his cheekiness, strength and courage and ability to live in leadership. I wondered whether I would ever meet this man, as I wasn't intending on signing up as a Virgin crew member, it seemed it would either be accidental or require alot of organisation. And then - the question would be - what did I actually want to say?! And the truth was - I didn't actually want to say anything. I simply wanted to meet this man, to feel whether who he was - in representation, matched a reality of energy and self.
On Wednesday, as this man entered the room, I saw and felt and could confirm to my core that he was simply a man, a man of natural manner, humility and a leader because he was on path, on purpose. I was overwhelmed and in myself, I wasn't sure what was going to win - laughter or tears. I think I did both.
In my bag I had an envelope - it contained an idea which I had scribbled down a year ago, with the desire to give to Richard Branson. I had no illusions about whether the idea itself was good or bad - it was only an idea, which within my own life I already work to and did not rely on further acceptance. However, I wanted to hand this to Richard. When I completed my printout and wrote the red letters 'Sir Richard Branson' on the front of the A5 envelope, I knew my chances of getting it to him were small. As I walked up the stairs of the convention - and saw just how many people would be enthusiastically around him - my realistic self had already calculated the odds.
As it came time for Sir Richard to leave, all I knew was that I would regret not trying and if embarrassment or worse, penalty would ensue for the attempt then so be it. Of multiple internal conflicts, one of the strongest ones was actually feeling sad that this amazing man, who seemed to have an ability and enjoyment of connection with others, would have to fight his way out of the venue and I didn't really want to add to that fight.
As it was - I ran ahead and as he stepped through one set of doors I suddenly saw that his hands were free and that there was space between us. I was able to place the envelope in his hands.
I did it!
Of course I am very unlikely to find out the journey of that envelope. From getting thrown out, to passed on to an administrator, to simply placed among much work paperwork - that I am unlikely to ever know. And it doesn't matter. Although I would love to show and tell Sir Richard what I was talking about, I know that that crossover of paths may simply not be in this life's picture and that is simply perfect.
Perhaps I will put up a wall poster after all!
