When I was growing up, there weren’t all of these gathering at school in which parents have to feel constantly on the ball.  At my kids’ previous school, second grade is the year that there is a class gathering with food prepared by parents almost every month.  And not just any kind of food; it’s themed to what they are learning.  My favorite was West African Cassava Cakes, which tasted horrible, and didn’t even look appealing, but that the teacher insisted we make.  There was always the mom who managed to make her ethnic treats look and taste great, but I wasn’t one of them.  There were also often themed days, in which kids had to dress up as a famous person on Monday, wear the school colors on Tuesday, don elegant clothes on Wednesday,  and throw on pajamas on Thursday.  My fear was what if I got the days wrong and my child came dressed at Abraham Lincoln while every one else was in pajamas?

It’s all a little bit too much.

I also just got a note from my son’s director, thanking the parents for sending snacks with their kids for the long rehearsals they have had.  Um, I’m haven’t sent in any snacks. It never occurred to me. And to think I was so proud of dealing with scheduling the hand surgeon for my daughter with her broken finger and sending the check for the France trip.  But then I had this realization: whatever you do will never be enough.  Not for you or for anyone.  There’s always more that you could be doing.

This is why people look so exhausted all the time.  They are wacking away at all the balls, keeping them in the air.  And they are taking on concerns that aren’t theirs, like whether school robotics club will happen this year, and whether their friends’ marriage is breaking up, or whether a neighbors’ house should be condemned because it’s in such bad disrepair.  I used to do that, until I got a painful eye condition.  Part of healing for me involves letting balls drop and not taking stuff on that I don’t need to take on.  I no longer respond to emails within the hour, as though I had a gun pressed to head.  I no longer need to solve everyone’s marriage and financial issues.  It’s not easy to change, but I’m doing it.  Today I walked by the dilapidated house on my walk home and didn’t take it on.

This applies to major issues in the world too.  I can’t solve global poverty and the plight of the polar bears, and the transgender fight, and all the racism and violence in our world.  But, I can be kind. I can raise my kids to treat others fairly and be open minded, I can vote and march and write.  I can focus on a being that person who is bringing good energy to the world, not complaining about the weather and housing prices and whether men listen– all things I can’t control.

The reality is, we can control so little.  Starting with a calm mind is a great start, since we can’t offer peace if we don’t have it.

As you think about the work you want to bring to the world stage, think about all the balls you are juggling and how many of them you can let go of.  If you look carefully, you’ll realize that you don’t have to do everything asked of you.  Yes, bringing African-themed cookies is essential for your second grader– and we thankfully got all those years of gatherings right.  But once they are in sixth grade and the teacher doesn’t bother to tell you, let alone your son, a few Tic-Tacs is good enough.  One fewer ball to carry.  Figure out your should’s and let go of those.  The world needs you to be lighter so that you don’t bring more burdens, but instead your humor, your joy and your gifts.

Today as I was shopping for Christmas gifts at Target, I realized the whole Bruins hockey team was in the toy section with me buying toys for underprivileged kids.  At first I just thought it was a few guys dressed up in Bruins jerseys, but once I saw about 20 of them and realized that they looked big and muscular, I figured they were the real team. I am not someone who plays hockey and I have only been to one pro hockey game in my life– the New York Rangers on a double date, which was not the most romantic setting because of all the drunken guys surrounding us shouting. Even though two of my nephews play hockey, as well as their parents, I always figured that hockey players were rough and tough and not that smart.  But as I was moving through the toy section, I overheard two of the Bruins players discussing what to get for two little girls they were trying to buy for.  One was asking the other, “Do you know where the princess shoes and the pink nail polish is?”  It was the sweetest thing seeing these big athletic men who were completely absorbed in finding something special for a few little girls in need.  As I made my way to the games section, a player named Domenic Moore was selecting toys while cameras were filming him.  The helpers from Target were trying to suggest games and he kept asking, “But are they educational?  I want to make sure they are learning something.”  So I interjected, “I would go with Scattergories, since it’s a game that makes you think. My teen and preteen love it.”  He wanted to know how old my kids were and how smart.  I said, “Smart!”  He smiled a big smile.  I added, “So you play hockey?”  He smiled and said yes, even though it was probably obvious to everyone else in the store.  “And you’re on the Bruins.”  “Yes,” he answered smiling again.  “Sorry I’m not that into hockey. I’m more into the arts.”  “That’s ok, he said.” And that was it.  Because of one pro hockey team buying toys for needy kids, all of whom were polite and dedicated to the task of helping kids, I became a hockey fan too, and have decided that the players are lovely and smart.  (Dominic actually went to Harvard.)

I’ve now encountered two famous people in one week.  My daughter couldn’t get enough hearing about Gisele, and my son was so excited to hear about the Bruins, even though he is not a hockey player, since sports are still just something he knows and cares about.  I learned that things are not as they seem, that famous people can be warm and lovely and accessible, but that the fame machine has changed our perception of them so often.  I also learned that it’s disarming to famous people not to be fawned over.  I’ll never forget when my grandfather met my sister’s college roommate, Jodie Foster, at Yale graduation.  He had no idea that she was a famous actress at the time, so he said, “And who might you be?” when she hadn’t introduced herself.  She was very pleased to say, “I’m Jodie.  Jodie Foster.  I’m an actress.” I’m guessing for Gisele, it was a relief to be surrounded by a mostly international crowd, many of whom don’t follow her husband’s football career and don’t care much about modeling.  She could just be a mom and a health nut and talk to us as though she was sharing with a girlfriend.  Likewise, for Dominic, I’m sure he appreciated that I was just helping him find a board game, and that I was not that into hockey.  It’s always charming to be fearless and just be yourself.

To find your world stage, remember that the goal isn’t fame, because the fame machine of publicists and crazy fans and toxic press and paparazzi, isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  The goal is to use your gifts to make the world a better place, whether it’s acting, playing hockey, modeling and now advocating for the environment and children, or anything else. Things are not always as they seem, and it’s a gift when you get to peer behind the curtain to see the real thing.