Cloudy with a 100% Chance of Curry
As the sun set over Paris on Sunday night, the 16 days of the 2024 Olympics came to a close. This year, the games felt different. They were more than just a spectacle of athletic prowess—they were a lifeline. I found myself glued to the screen, more engaged than ever before. It wasn’t just about the medals or the record-breaking performances, though those were certainly awe-inspiring. It was about something deeper, something that resonated within me and, I suspect, within many of you as well.
The world has been heavy lately. Wars rage on, politics polarize, natural disasters strike, and the pandemic’s shadow still lingers. We’ve all felt the weight—it's been relentless. Personally, I’ve been feeling the toll in ways I hadn’t fully realized until the Olympic Games began.
When Simone Biles took to the air, defying gravity and expectations alike, it wasn’t just a moment of athletic brilliance; it was a symbol of resilience, of rising above the challenges life throws at us. And when Celine Dion, against all odds, performed on the Eiffel Tower, it was as if she, too, was defying the darkness that has been encroaching on our lives. These moments weren’t just performances—they were reminders of the human spirit's indomitable will.
And then there was Léon Marchand. The French swimmer became a symbol for a nation, his every dive into the pool echoed by chants of “LEON, LEON” that reverberated across the city. And in my house too. It wasn’t just about winning; it was about a collective celebration of perseverance, of national pride, and of hope. As I watched, I found myself swept up in that energy, feeling a connection not just to the athletes, but to everyone who was watching, cheering, and believing.
But the Olympics are not just about triumphs. They’re about the falls, too—the moments when athletes stumble, falter, and sometimes, don’t finish the race. I cried each time a runner fell on the track, not just out of sympathy, but because it mirrored the falls we all experience in life. Yet, in those moments of despair, there was also beauty—the beauty of getting back up, of pushing forward, of finishing the race, no matter the outcome.
For 16 days, the world’s noise faded into the background. The negativity, the division, the endless cycle of bad news—it all took a backseat. In its place was joy, pure and simple. I needed that joy. It refilled my cup, reminding me of why I do what I do, how I show up for my clients, my friends, and my family. It’s easy to get lost in the day-to-day grind, to let the heaviness of the world drag us down. But the Olympics reminded me of the power of perseverance, of community, and of finding joy even in the darkest of times.
As I reflect on these games, I realize that the real victory wasn’t in the medals or the records. It was in the stories—the stories of athletes who, against all odds, gave their all in the arena. And in doing so, they gave us something we so desperately needed: hope.
The 2024 Paris Olympics may be over, but the impact they had on me will linger. They reminded me that even when the skies are cloudy, there’s always a chance for sunshine—a 100% chance (just like Stephen Curry making four 3-pointers in the last 3 minutes of the game), in fact, when we come together, celebrate resilience, and choose joy.
I continue to reflect on the joy I felt over the past 16 days and how I want to carry that forward. How about you? How will you carry that hope and energy into your daily life and work?
