Our Rebuild: Big Inspiration from Small Sources

Buddy Harris•

“The biggest adventure you can take is to live the life of your dreams.” – Oprah Winfrey

It’s a great quote. But the dream I had, to be a comedian, seemed farfetched.

Actually, as an awkward 12-year-old boy that suffered from social anxiety, my dream seemed impossible and ridiculous.

So, what was it that finally propelled me onto a stage so many years later? Prescription medication? Non-prescription medication? Years of therapy? A walkabout that allowed me to find myself? Nope. It was a 5-year-old girl. A girl that had the same social anxiety as I had. It was my daughter.

“You are your father’s daughter.”

It is a line my oldest daughter regularly hears. It is one that makes her smile and makes me scared. Every time I hear it, I think of all my faults and weaknesses. I think of all the hurdles I had to face being me, all the poor choices I made.

But here is the truth: she isn’t her father. She is better than me.

As a child, I always had a nervous feeling when I left the house. Going to the mall, the grocery store, or school would send me into an internal frenzy. I either hid in the background or got in trouble for acting like a clown. There was no in between. I’d skip public speaking because I was too scared to talk in front of the class. I would get thrown out of English class for being a goof.

I never participated in anything that would put me in the spotlight. Not when I was 10, nor when I was 25. It was too overwhelming. Even when I was asked to be the best man in my childhood best friend’s wedding, I panicked for months.

That’s why I was happily surprised when my mini me decided to be a part of her school play. She chose to be stronger than me…and I was so proud.

Every Wednesday, for months, she went to practice. She was beating the anxiety, or so it seemed. The night of the dress rehearsal, I drove her there. I could tell by the silence in the car that she was second guessing all her hard work.

Unfortunately, I was right. When the curtains opened, she wasn’t there.

I went to the back to talk to her and I saw my younger self standing there, nervous, sweating, the look of defeat. I promised her that she could do it, that I believed in her. And, surprisingly, that was all it took.

I’m kidding.

I had no effect on her. Those very words worked, just not from me. An almost random stranger had to say them to her. That was all it took.

After dress rehearsal I could see she was on a high. I took her out for ice cream afterwards and we made a pact: If she braved it out the night of the play, I would also be brave and try standup, the one thing I had always dreamt of doing.

Last week was her fourth year participating in the play. And this time, she shared the stage with her two sisters. It is impossible to watch and not choke up. It is impossible to see her up there and not be proud of both of us.

I have three shows this weekend, one of which, is at the Valley Forge Casino (Promo Code BUDDY for half off tix).

I guess Oprah was right. What an adventure the past four years have been.