Big Five – FeedThe Leap Between Impossible and Done
As Hindus around the world celebrate Navratri, we spend nine nights reflecting on the many forms of the Divine and the qualities they awaken within us: courage, devotion, wisdom, perseverance, and faith. It is a fitting time to revisit one of the most enduring stories in our tradition, a story that has inspired generations not because of where it takes place, but because of what it asks of us. It is the story of a leap.
According to the Ramayana, Lord Hanuman stood on the shores of what is known today as Sri Lanka with a mission that appeared impossible. Sita had been found. Lord Rama needed to know she was alive. Between problem and solution stood an ocean. The distance was immense. The task was daunting. Yet Hanuman jumped. Whether one views the story through the lens of faith, mythology, history, or symbolism, its lesson remains remarkably relevant.
Most people remember the leap because of its scale.
I remember it because of the moment that must have preceded it. Before every great act of courage comes a moment of uncertainty. Every meaningful journey contains a moment when the gap ahead appears larger than our abilities. The entrepreneur wonders whether their idea can leave the world better than they found it. The explorer questions the route. The parent worries about the decision. The student doubts their capability. The traveler contemplates the road less taken. There is always a shoreline. There is always an ocean. And there is always a reason not to jump.
Today, traveling between Sri Lanka and India can be measured in miles and hours. Hanuman’s journey is measured differently. It is measured in courage. Because the story was never really about crossing water. It was about crossing doubt.
One of the most fascinating details of Hanuman’s story is that he initially forgot the extent of his own powers. It took others around him to remind him of who he was and what he was capable of accomplishing. Only then did he embrace his purpose and launch himself into the unknown. To me, that may be the most important part of the story.
The greatest barrier was not the distance. It was self-belief. How many times have we encountered people with extraordinary talent who underestimate themselves? How often have organizations, communities, and even entire nations focused so intensely on their limitations that they lose sight of their strengths? Sometimes we do not need new skills. We do not need new opportunities. We simply need a better memory of who we already are.
That, to me, is one of the central lessons of Navratri.
The festival is not merely a celebration of divine power. It is a reminder that courage, resilience, and purpose are available to all of us. The victory of Goddess Durga over Mahishasura symbolizes the triumph of light over darkness, conviction over fear, and possibility over doubt. Hanuman’s leap across the sea reflects the very same truth from a different chapter of our spiritual heritage.
Both stories ultimately ask the same question: What would happen if we stopped underestimating ourselves? As Hanuman’s journey continued, he encountered distractions, temptations, and obstacles designed to prevent him from reaching his destination. Yet none of them changed the mission. His purpose remained clear. His destination remained clear. His commitment remained clear. Perhaps that is why these stories have endured for thousands of years. They are not really about demons, oceans, or distant kingdoms. They are about us.
Every Navratri invites us to confront the obstacles in our own lives. Some are external. Many are internal. Fear. Doubt. Insecurity. Hesitation. The quiet voice that whispers, maybe this is beyond me. Hanuman heard that voice. Durga conquered that voice. And every year, Navratri challenges us to do the same. Twice a year, I embark on a 9 day fast, in observance of these 9 days. No matter where I am, it comes to a stop and I return home.
As these sacred days of Navratri unfold, perhaps the lesson is not to admire Hanuman’s leap from afar, but to identify the ocean standing before us. A challenge we have postponed because the distance seems too great.
Somewhere, right now, each of us is standing on a shoreline of our own. And perhaps that is why this story continues to resonate across centuries.
On behalf of my family, I send the brightest wishes to my brothers and sisters observing the 9 days of Navratri.
