I’m a subscriber to The Washington Post’s daily e-newsletter, and when I opened my email this morning, I misread a headline. The words said, “Trump’s Oman threat,” but I read it as “Trump’s omen threat.” For a nanosecond, I thought the journalists at WaPo were getting metaphysical on us, and I liked it, but then just as quickly, my logical brain corrected the error and I read it for what it was. I didn’t click on the article because I’d rather read about omens than Oman.
Perhaps I wouldn’t be thinking about omens had I not recently read “The Alchemist” by Paul Coelho. This was the second time in my life reading this classic text. The first time, I wasn’t old enough or wise enough to grasp its depth. I joined a book club in my early twenties, and the first book we were assigned was “The Alchemist.” I flipped through the first few pages and at first glance, found it to be boring, especially in comparison to the Dean Koontz thrillers and Jodi Picoult legal sagas I’d been devouring.
When I finally sat down and gave the book some full-fledged attention, I found it to be alluring, but it didn’t grab me in the way Coelho intended. As the Buddhist saying goes, “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” I wasn’t ready.
Fast forward to this past June when my older son was assigned “The Alchemist” as part of his summer reading. I like to read whatever books my kids are assigned so we can have meaningful conversations about them, and as I read Coelho’s book this time around, the student was ready. Forty-six-year-old Susanna was much more open to the lessons and wisdom than 23-year-old Susanna. That, alone, taught me a lot and was a reminder of how much we grow and heal through the years.
If you’ve never read this powerful text, I encourage you to do so. It’s not long, and among the pages is a blueprint for a life well-lived. The core theme is that everyone has a “personal legend” or true destiny, and if we’re open to it, the entire universe conspires to help us achieve it. As children, we know what our personal legend is. Think back to when you were young, when you believed the world was your oyster and you could do anything when you grew up. But then we become fearful and cynical as we age and often give up on our personal legends.
What was it you wanted to achieve? For me, I wanted to be a writer. I used to write poetry and stories on napkins, scrap paper, anything I could find. I read constantly and loved my English classes beyond all others, but I kept getting lost along the way, following society’s path instead of my own or getting derailed by a more “normal” job or better-paying one, but nonetheless, I always find my fingers back on the keyboard or a pen in my hand. It’s who I am. I’m not even close to taking my writing career to where I want it to be or where I know it can be. Reading “The Alchemist” this summer inspired me to evaluate where I am and to keep going.
“The Alchemist” was a suggested reading for my son’s entire senior class, as opposed to a required reading for a particular course so it kept getting pushed to the back burner. I encouraged him to move forward with it, and he’s very happy he did. Similar to my younger self, I doubt the book impacted him as much as it will decades from now, but he enjoyed it, and maybe, like me, he’ll read it again when he’s middle-aged and wow himself with his maturity.
Another lesson in the book focuses on embracing the journey and whom you become because of it. The destination is never the ultimate goal. Typically, when we “arrive,” we don’t feel that sense of accomplishment or elation we anticipated. Every “arrival” is simply another point along the journey. As an elite distance runner, I think my son has already learned this to an extent. The person he’s becoming from being an endurance athlete and the lessons he’s learning during the process are more significant than breaking records or winning big races.
Coelho highlights the concept of omens and listening to our hearts. His words remind us everything is connected, and we’re not simply isolated beings existing in a silo. We must allow ourselves to be guided by love, not fear. Fear makes us move in a controlled, constricted, small way where love guides us through life curious, bright-eyed and open. So, what’s your personal legend? What was that dream you had as a child? It’s never too late, and if you need inspiration, pick up a copy of “The Alchemist” or listen to it as you drive or walk.
Back to President Trump — I believe reading The Alchemist would be very good for him. Being guided by omens instead of Oman would certainly lead to a fuller, more beautiful life. In fact, maybe I’ll mail a copy to The White House and see what happens.
(Susanna Shetley is a writer and editor. Susanna.b@smokymountainnews.com.)