
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Welcome to Harry Potter #4. It’s time for the Quidditch World Cup, the Goblet of Fire, and the Triwizard Tournament. And... Voldemort’s back. Emerson and I had fun hammering through this 752-page tome a little every night. Even just picking up the book and asking him how we’d get through it was a lesson in breaking down big goals into bite-sized small wins! Big Ideas we explore include: The commitment with which you need to enter your name into the Goblet of Fire, two quick tips on how to win a battle with a dragon, how to deal with critics, the magic of the Pensieve (and the fact you already have a magic wand), embracing our complexity Dumbledore style and the power of courageously confronting reality.
Big Ideas
- Don't Enter LightlyYour name is already in.
- Play to your Strengths + Keep it Simple+ Keep it simple.
- Can I Have a Word?No.
- The PensieveYour new magical pen-wand.
- Embracing the Paradox of our ComplexityYou and Dumbledore.
- Enchanted Sleep vs. Confronting Realityvs. Confronting reality.
“‘But I am not a man, Muggle,’ said the cold voice, barely audible now over the crackling of the flames. ‘I am much, much more than a man. However . . . why not? I will face you. . . . Wormtail, come turn my chair around.’
The servant gave a whimper.
‘You heard me, Wormtail.’
Slowly, with his face screwed up, as though he would rather have done anything than approach his master and the hearth rug where the snake lay, the small man walked forward and began to turn the chair. The snake lifted its ugly triangular head and hissed slightly as the legs of the chair snagged on its rug.
And then the chair was facing Frank, and he saw what was sitting in it. His walking stick fell to the floor with a clatter. He opened his mouth and let out a scream. He was screaming so loudly that he never heard the words the thing in the chair spoke as it raised a wand. There was a flash of green light, a rushing sound, and Frank Bryce crumpled. He was dead before he hit the floor.
Two hundred miles away, the boy called Harry Potter woke with a start.”
~ J. K. Rowling from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Welcome to Harry Potter #4.
It’s time for the Quidditch World Cup, the Goblet of Fire, and the Triwizard Tournament. And… Voldemort’s back.
Emerson and I had fun hammering through this 752-page tome a little every night. Even just picking up the book and asking him how we’d get through it was a lesson in breaking down big goals into bite-sized small wins!
As always, the power of J.K. Rowling’s brilliant mind and the Potter world astonish me. (Get a copy of the book here.)
And, as always, the book is packed with a bunch of wisdom. I’m excited to share some of my favorite Ideas so let’s throw our names into the Goblet of Fire and jump straight in!
Don't Enter Lightly
“Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all.”
The Goblet of Fire.
For those who may not recall, the magical Goblet is responsible for determining which individual from each of the three schools becomes its champion to compete for eternal glory (and 1,000 galleons!).
Dumbledore makes it very clear that once you put your name into that magical goblet as a candidate to participate in the Triwizard Tournament there’s no turning back. If selected, you MUST compete in and complete the tournament. Or else…
Guess what? Same rules apply to our heroic quests—on two levels.
On a high level, if you’re reading this note, you’ve already thrown your name into the Goblet (and been chosen Champion!). Although you may not have received the warning from Dumbledore, there’s NO (!) turning back. You’ve glimpsed your potential and you can’t unerase that.
Then we have our specific targets and goals and quests. We cannot enter them lightly.WOOP them up, get clear on the price you need to pay, refuse to be a hero in the beginning. Then make a sacred vow and go pay that price—remembering the fact that once we’re in, we’re IN. As in sacred vow with the universe/binding, magical contract with the Goblet ALL IN kinda thing.
P.S. How about some fire wisdom?
Joseph Campbell tells us: “Sri Ramakrishna said, ‘Do not seek illumination unless you seek it as a man whose hair is on fire seeks a pond.’”
Rumi says: “If your knowledge of fire has been turned to certainty by words alone, then seek to be cooked by the fire itself. Don’t abide in borrowed certainty. There is no real certainty until you burn; if you wish for this, sit down in the fire.”
He also says: “I am burning. If anyone lacks tinder, let him set his rubbish ablaze with my fire.”
Then, recall our lesson on activation energy and how fire is created in the first place. 450 degrees won’t do it. It’s that final extra degree that creates the magic. As Michael Lardon tells us in Finding Your Zone: “These athletes and exceptional people in other disciplines distinctively know that the difference between success and failure is paper thin. It is this knowledge that drives them to create enough activation energy to transform themselves, and achieve self-actualization and often greatness.”
In sum: There’s a price to your greatness. Light the fire. Go all in. Pay that price.
Play to your Strengths + Keep it Simple
“‘So . . . got any ideas how you’re going to get past your dragon yet?’ said Moody.
‘No,’ said Harry.
‘Well, I’m not going to tell you,’ said Moody gruffly. ‘I don’t show favoritism, me. I’m just going to give you some good, general advice. And the first bit is — play to your strengths.’
‘I haven’t got any,’ said Harry, before he could stop himself.
‘Excuse me,’ growled Moody, ‘you’ve got strengths if I say you’ve got them. Think now. What are you best at?’
Harry tried to concentrate. What was he best at? Well, that was easy, really —
‘Quidditch,’ he said dully, ‘and a fat lot of help —’
‘That’s right,’ said Moody, staring at him very hard, his magical eye barely moving at all. ‘You’re a damned good flier from what I’ve heard.’
‘Yeah, but . . .’ Harry stared at him. ‘I’m not allowed a broom, I’ve only got my wand —’
‘My second piece of general advice,’ said Moody loudly, interrupting him, ‘is to use a nice, simple spell that will enable you to get what you need.’
Harry looked at him blankly. What did he need?
‘Come on boy . . .’ whispered Moody. ‘Put them together . . . it’s not that difficult.’
And it clicked. He was best at flying. He needed to pass the dragon in the air. For that, he needed his Firebolt. And for his Firebolt he needed —”
A good hero faces dragons on his or her journey. So did Harry in the tournament’s first task.
Best way to get by that dragon?
Two things. 1. Focus on your strengths. 2. Keep it simple.
So…
Facing any dragons these days?
What are your strengths? And, how can you keep things simple while you lean into them?
“Come on . . .” whispered the Philosopher. “Put them together . . . it’s not that difficult.” :)
Sirius shook his head and said, ‘She’s got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.
Can I Have a Word?
“Harry left the tent, rejoined Ron, and they started to walk back around the edge of the forest, talking hard; Harry wanted to hear what the other champions had done in more detail. Then, as they rounded the clump of trees behind which Harry had first heard the dragons roar, a witch leapt out from behind them.
It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them.
‘Congratulations, Harry!’ she said, beaming at him. ‘I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?’
‘Yeah, you can have a word,’ said Harry savagely ‘Good-bye.’
And he set off back to the castle with Ron.”
Ah, Rita Skeeter. First, side note: Emerson and I call all the villains “nutters.” She’s a nutter. :)Harry’s response reminds me of Howard Roark’s response to his critic, Ellsworth Toohey, in The Fountainhead.
Toohey: “Tell me what you think of me.”Roark: “But I don’t.”
Which reminds me of Samuel Goldwyn’s genius line: “Don’t pay attention to the critics. Don’t even ignore them.”
And, that goes very well with Brené Brown’s wisdom from Daring Greatly where she tells us: “Going back to Roosevelt’s ‘Man in the Arena’ speech, I also learned that the people who love me, the people I really depend on, were never the critics who were pointing at me while I stumbled. They weren’t in the bleachers at all. They were with me in the arena. Fighting for me and with me. Nothing has transformed my life more than realizing that it’s a waste of time to evaluate my worthiness by weighing the reaction of the people in the stands. The people who love me and will be there regardless of the outcome are within arm’s reach. This realization has changed everything.”
And, we revisit this theme at another point in the book when Hagrid’s stressing out about the criticism he’s receiving: “‘Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I’m afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time,’ said Dumbledore, now peering sternly over his half-moon spectacles. ‘Not a week has passed since I became Headmaster of this school when I haven’t had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?’”
Got any critics in your life? Let them go. Focus on what you’re here to do.
The Pensieve
“‘Professor,’ Harry gasped, ‘I know I shouldn’t’ve — I didn’t mean — the cabinet door was sort of open and —’
‘I quite understand,’ said Dumbledore. He lifted the basin, carrying it over to his desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for Harry to sit down opposite him.
Harry did so, staring at the stone basin. The contents had returned to their original, silvery-white state, swirling and rippling beneath his gaze.
‘What is it?’ Harry asked shakily.
‘This? It is called a Pensieve,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind.’
‘Er,’ said Harry, who couldn’t truthfully say that he had ever felt anything of the sort.
‘At these times,’ said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, ‘I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one’s mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one’s leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form.’
‘You mean . . . that stuff’s your thoughts?’ Harry said, staring at the swirling white substance in the basin.
‘Certainly,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Let me show you.’”
The Pensieve. (Yet another one of Rowling’s strokes of genius.)
Feeling pensive? (Defined as “engaged in, involving, or reflecting deep or serious thought.”)Just place a wand to your head, pull out the thoughts and drop them in the Pensieve for casual viewing at your convenience.
Good news! You have a wand. It’s called your pen.
The next time you have one too many thoughts floating around in your brain a) remember you’re not alone—even Dumbledore’s big brain can get too full and b) gently place the tip of your pen to your temple, then pull the thoughts from your head to a blank piece of paper.
Voila! Your own Pensieve.
Get this: Research is clear. Taking the time to write down your thoughts can be a very therapeutic process—helping us create a “coherent narrative” about what’s going on in our lives and giving us the perspective to rock it.
Embracing the Paradox of our Complexity
“Moody was thrown backward onto the office floor. Harry, still staring at the place where Moody’s face had been, saw Albus Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall looking back at him out of the Foe-Glass. He looked around and saw the three of them standing in the doorway, Dumbledore in front, his wand outstretched.
At that moment, Harry fully understood for the first time why people said Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. The look upon Dumbledore’s face as he stared down at the unconscious form of Mad-Eye Moody was more terrible than Harry could have ever imagined. There was no benign smile upon Dumbledore’s face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles. There was a cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Dumbledore as though he were giving off burning heat.”
Here we are at the end of the book. (Spoiler alert: Mad-Eye Moody wasn’t who we thought he was… Enter: Polyjuice potion!!)
And, we see a different side of Dumbledore. The twinkle in the eye is gone.
Cold fury is in its place.
When I read that passage, I immediately thought of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyiand Brené Brown.
In Creativity, Csikszentmihalyi tells us that the number one quality that differentiates the most creative among us is their COMPLEXITY. He tells us: “They contain contradictory extremes—instead of being an ‘individual,’ each of them is a ‘multitude.’ Like the color white that includes all the hues of the spectrum, they tend to bring together the entire range of human possibilities within themselves. These qualities are present in all of us, but usually we are trained to develop only one pole of the dialectic. We might grow up cultivating the aggressive, competitive side of our nature, and disdain or repress the nurturing, cooperative side. A creative individual is more likely to be both aggressive and cooperative, either at the same time or at different times, depending on the situation. Having a complex personality means being able to express the full range of traits that are potentially present in the human repertoire but usually atrophy because we think one or the other pole is ‘good,’ whereas the other extreme is ‘bad.’”
In Braving the Wilderness, Brené tells us all about the importance of embracing paradox and puts it this way: “The mark of a wild heart is living out the paradox of love in our lives. It’s the ability to be tough and tender, excited and scared, brave and afraid—all in the same moment. It’s showing up in our vulnerability and our courage, being both fierce and kind.”
Then we have Maslow who says that self-actualizers reach a point where apparent dichotomies dissolve. They blend selfishness with selflessness. Warm kindness with cold fury.
Let’s embrace the paradox of our complexity.
Enchanted Sleep vs. Confronting Reality
“‘Come along Potter,’ she whispered. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as though she was about to cry. ‘Come along . . . hospital wing . . .’
‘No,’ said Dumbledore sharply.
‘Dumbledore, he ought to — look at him — he’s been through enough tonight. —’
‘He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand,’ said Dumbledore curtly. ‘Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him through the ordeal he has suffered tonight and why.’”
That’s from the end of the book after the craziness of the final task in the tournament.
Dumbledore is adamant that Harry listen to what the truth serum-influenced Crouch has to say about what led to his experience.
Shortly after that, Harry’s moved to the hospital wing and we have this scene: “‘If I thought I could help you,’ Dumbledore said gently, ‘by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened.”
So… This is the fourth time in our four Notes on Harry and his adventures that we’ve highlighted J.K. Rowling’s wisdom on the importance of dealing with our reality.
She tells us we need to name it to tame it—calling Voldemort and all our others fears by their names. In this case, Dumbledore is adamant that, as painful as it may be for Harry, he must describe what happened at the graveyard when Voldemort returned to power.
Numbing himself was just going to make the pain worse.
Which reminds me of Grant Cardone’s wisdom that we need to starve fear of its favorite food: time. Got something that’s freaking you out? Don’t let your fear feast on time. Do what needs to be done. Now. As Cardone says: “Fear doesn’t just tell you what to do; it also tells you when to do it. Ask yourself what time it is at any point in the day, and the answer is always the same: now. The time is always now—and when you experience fear, it’s a sign that the best time to take action is at that very moment. Most people will not follow through with their goals when enough time has passed from the inception of their idea to actually doing something about it; however, if you remove time from your process, you’ll be ready to go. There’s simply no other choice than to act. There’s no need to prepare. It’s too late for that once you’ve gotten this far.”
So… As I move the spotlight over in your direction…
Are there any pieces of reality you are ignoring right now? Anything that needs work? How can you compassionately shine the light of awareness of it?
Let’s take a deep breath, appreciate all that’s RIGHT in our worlds and meet our challenges head on—knowing we have the strength to meet any obstacle that comes our way. (Again and again and again.)
High fives to you and your Heroic quest, Champion!