The Beekeeper Who Followed His Bliss

May 21, 2003

This beekeeper is New Zealand's most famous son. (Well, OK, after Russell Crowe.) Next Wednesday will mark the 50th anniversary of the day he and Tenzing Norgay conquered Mt Everest.

Yes, Sir Edmund Hillary started out his working life as a beekeeper. Then he decided to follow his bliss. Within a few years he became the world's most famous mountaineer. But he fascinates me most because of what he did thereafter. He walked away from one concept of success - "mountaineering celebrity" - and committed to another, far more personal one.

 

It all began just a few years after the Everest ascent. An elderly Sherpa came to him: "Our children lack education. They are not prepared for the future. What we need more than anything is a school in Khumjung."

 

Hillary armed himself with hammer and nails. Soon he realized that he hadn't been put on this planet to climb mountains. His destiny was quite different: to build schools and hospitals in remote Himalayan villages. Since 1960, that has been his driving passion. His Himalayan Trust has built over 40 schools, hospitals and medical clinics, along with many bridges and airfields.

 

A few years back, Don George listened to Hillary speak at a New York fundraising event: 

You somehow feel that your own faith has been renewed, that there are dreams worth following, causes worth pursuing, that people can devote their lives to something larger than themselves and grow in heart and mind and grace until they become almost as high as the mountains they love... When Hillary shuffles off the stage, you watch people throughout the room - bankers and lawyers and writers and climbers - dab at their eyes, until you can't see because your own eyes too are filled with tears.

Why the tears? I think one reason Hillary moves us is that his rich, authentic life contrasts with our own pale half-lives. Hearing him, we mourn for the chances we haven't taken, the dreams we haven't followed, the truths we haven't honored.

 

Ed Hillary shows that it's never too late to start. He climbed Everest in the first half of his life; but that was merely, as he put it, "a footstep on a mountain." It is only in this, the second half, that he