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The TGP Story

Welcome!  I'm Stephen Banick, founder and chief "Gulliver Guide" of The Gulliver Project.  I'd like to share with you the origins of the company – why it was founded; our ideals and vision. 

Chances are, if you've been browsing around our website or flipping through our brochures, that you're a New Gulliver:  that is, you seek personal growth and self-empowerment against the backdrop of a very unique and challenging time – the Age of Globalization.  You desire a way of "making sense" of the world and enriching yourself, not only materially, but also mentally, spiritually, and aesthetically. You believe that there is no reason why your own self-interests – vocationally, recreationally, socially, artistically – should be incompatible with anyone else's; in fact, you believe you can contribute a lot to others precisely because of the talents and interests that you possess.  You are very much "in the world" and you like mingling with "Others" outside your inner circle.

My wakeup call came one morning in early 2003.  I was absentmindedly staring out of my 12th story living room window at the skyline of Santiago, Chile.  In my peripheral vision was the towering 20,000 foot wall of the Andes Mountains.  Sipping on my morning coffee, I was reminiscing about the last year.  After selling our house and saying goodbye to our respective employers, my wife Alexis and I had trucked around Sub-Saharan Africa for three months.  It had been a grand time.  During our journey we had climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro, and then zigzagged our way through nine countries and 7,000 miles of rain forests, sweeping deserts, snow-capped mountains, tropical beaches, rolling farmlands, quaint villages and modern cities. 

We had then turned our focus a hemisphere away — to Chile and Argentina, two diverse and beautiful South American countries.  We got certified to teach English at a fine institute in Santiago, Chile; but frankly, it was too long on monotony, too rigid on hours, and too short on compensation to keep us grounded, so once again we had started plotting other moves.

It was these reveries that were jarred by the 7.0 earthquake

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Now before that sounds too melodramatic, please understand that Santiago's building construction standards, like those of Tokyo and San Francisco, are some of the most advanced in the world—which is a good thing, considering that the entire 2,700 mile span of that anorexic millipede called The Andes that separates Chile from Argentina is a launching pad for volcanoes and earthquakes alike.  In fact, Chile claims the world's largest recorded quake, a 9.5 (Richter scale) in 1960, which wreaked havoc on a third of the country.  Compared to that monster, the morning's temblor was a modest "house call" – but try telling that to a stomach that feels like an over-caffeinated roller coaster or a pair of eyes convinced that the apartment walls are made of silly putty. Minutes after the quake, the swimming pool of a European consulate next door was still shaking like jelly, and the myriad car alarms from surrounding embassies were all baying in a cacophonous symphony.

Needless to say, I was shook up.  Not from conscious thoughts, because I knew everything was OK; rather, it was the chattering protests from that place in each of us that doesn't like the tidy order of our personal Universe shaken, rattled, and rolled.  Our Inner Navigator, it seems, has its own ideas about what stability and permanence are.

After refilling my coffee mug (the previous contents now decorating the couch and rug), I resumed my reverie, but with a little bit more intensity of focus than before. 

For some time, I had been considering what to do if and when Alexis and I returned to the U.S.  I must admit that the ol' Work-Play-Work conundrum had always been somewhat of a recurring theme for me.  As such, this current layover wasn't the first time I had turned the career tables upside down.  Like an endless game of match-point badminton, it seems that the classically trained engineer and corporate-groomed MBA were always vying with the wanderlust-ing Sagittarian scribe for the spotlight.  Even getting to my first real job, with the Hewlett Packard Company in Boise, Idaho, required a twisting menagerie of 7,000 miles of North American roadways. The shortest distance between two points may indeed be a straight line, but the most revealing journey to me is usually a wiggly line.  I had considered that trip just another form of on-the-job education:  the "job" being Life.

Similar sojourns likewise perforated my resume over the next twenty years:  long backpacking tours of Australia and New Zealand; explorations of Alaska; trekking adventures in Asia and South America; island hopping in the Mediterranean; and the requisite civilized visits to Europe.  Naturally, I explored just about every mountain range, canyon, coastline and prairie I could get my boots, tires, or skis onto in the playgrounds of the U.S. and Canada. I even discovered that large cities have hearts and souls, if one knows how and where to look.

In between (and often during) these jaunts, I was an industrial engineer, a recruiting manager, a sales and marketing director, and a small company owner.  I can't say that I specialized, either.  My employers ran the gamut from huge, multinational corporations to mid-sized, regional companies to three-person partnerships (my own); my industries spanned from Computer Systems manufacturing to Public Health software products to Information Technology consulting to Natural Foods importing —I had become a jack-of-many-trades, but a master of none (I had even sold encyclopedias door-to-door in one of the poorest regions of the country, the tobacco country of North Carolina, during my college years!). It seems that my entire career was a revolving door that separated gainful employment from sabbaticals, journeys, explorations, and other sojourns into new places and activities. 

I had always been particularly attracted to themes about the earth and her people; that is, our geography, history, politics, literature, and mythology. I loved reading about great explorers and teachers. I got excited seeing how technology – imbued with wisdom and patience – could benefit Humankind.  I was mesmerized by the rise and fall of civilizations.  I was enthralled by the tapestries of terrain, water, and sky that envelope our planet. I was intrigued why some combinations of government, commerce, and philosophy seemed to produce standards of living (or more importantly, quality of life) very different than others did.  I was mystified as to the paradox of what it means to be human: how we're simultaneously capable of such magnanimity and power alongside of such pettiness and fear.

But true to my generalist nature, I had never wanted to specialize in any of those endeavors.  I just didn't want to be a geography teacher… or a historian…or an academic researcher… or a minister… or a politician…or any highly-trained specialist occupying a box on one more corporate "Org" chart. 

Somehow, someway, I wanted to fuse my interests and talents together.  It just happened that my sphere of interest was the world – Planet Earth and her peoples; what makes us tick, how we can enjoy peace and prosperity.  How we can feel better, have more, and be more while still honoring our Golden Rule(s). 

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Just like the scattered debris after a giant storm, the morning's quake had shaken loose some compelling thoughts.  I can't say that they were completely new thoughts, but like driftwood, they washed up on the shorelines of my awareness.  These voices demanded acknowledgement, and soon, they vied with the Santiago skyline and that towering Andean wall for my attention.

This time, I knew, would be different.  For the first time in my life, it felt like a "calling," some alluring thing that I had to do; something that would have my own stamp on it.  An idea had been swirling around in the nebulous clouds of my cranium, but for some years, I could only sense it, not see or describe it.  Still, this was the genesis of The Gulliver Project.

A picture started to coalesce that day.  It accounted for our greatness and our pettiness; it offered a pretext for hope against a backdrop of despair.  It inspired action in a manner that was fun, self paced, and enriching to all; decipherable through the lenses of own cultural filters and enacted in non-threatening manners.  It offered a way to "Make sense of the Nonsense" and "Find peace in the Paradox ".  It was intangible – and it was substantive. 

I knew then that I wanted to put together a program that gave people hope, one that connects peoples' innate talents and virtues with the tremendous tools and resources out there in the world that could enrich them, and prompt them to empower themselves.

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To flesh out those thoughts and their implications, I knew that I had to get out the pen and paper (alright, the keyboard!) and structure a program.  The ensuing result – after four years of incubation – is right here at the company website and throughout the books and other media.

Please understand that those thoughts weren't orderly or logical.  Rather, they were crashing around, like those tectonic plates or tsunami waves.  Furthermore, it would be audacious to claim that these ideas were (are) "The Truth. "  Perhaps instead they represent "truths" – things that could be observed, and have managed to survive the test of time.  In any case, The Gulliver Project was launched that day, if only in the recesses of my mind.  I guess I was shook up "just right. "

The more I explored and researched, the more aware I became of what I've come to term The New Gullivers.  Why "New" you might ask?  Well, the original Gulliver, though adventurous and intelligent, was naïve and vulnerable.  His travels and experiences burdened him; he didn't know how to ride the tide and bob with the waves.  In the Age of Globalization, upon us now in its many variants of opportunity and challenge, such naivety cannot serve us.  Our "Travels" – our mental, physical, spiritual, and emotional growth – must be aware; conscious.  We must travel – grow – not only through the latitudes and longitudes of "landscapes," but also through the inviting terrain of "mindscapes and soulscapes."

New Gullivers are changing – rather "lifting" – the world by first changing themselves. They can be found in every culture, every faith, and every age, income bracket and shoe-size.  They're students and educators.  They're Baby-Boomers, retirees, and Gen X & Y'ers.  They're travelers and explorers.  They're religious/spiritual seekers.  They're merchants and corporate captains.  They're civic leaders and families.

They share a belief, a vision really; that despite all of the immense challenges in the world we're just a few steps – and ideas and leaders – away from creating "The Best of Times. "  Things are not always what they seem, and huge sweeping changes can come quickly.  Think about how fast the Berlin Wall came down, followed by Eastern Europe like a row of dominos.   Or consider that one man's vision, that of Oscar Arias, transformed poor backwater Costa Rica into a thriving, educated, healthy country in less than one generation, and is now a role model for economically-sustainable tourism and environmental stewardship. 

Or how about Nobel prize winner Mohammed Yunus, of Bangladesh, who with just $27 of his own money, started a micro-credit banking system for Third World loans – and now has floated over 6 million loans with a repayment rate exceeding 90%?  There are many examples of "Everyman" – the common, average everyday citizen – leaving his or her mark on the world.

But even all of that, frankly, is beside the point.  Most of us would settle for a little more room to roam, perhaps more income, maybe some more friends and hobbies.  Or second homes (some, even first homes).  Or new progressive service organizations to contribute our time to.  Or perhaps, just viscerally, we want to feel more secure and less fearful – and less manipulated or vulnerable – in the chaotic, dynamic world of Globalization.  We want a broader context for "meaning," no matter how we may define it, or what faith we may practice.

The Gulliver Project (TGP) is committed to exposing people to these possibilities, and the access pathway towards achieving them.  We try to navigate away from providing answers or espousing anything that could be considered dogma – besides, questioning answers is way more interesting than answering questions, and there's certainly  more than enough dogma to go around!

We are, however, about connecting people to ideas and resources.  People learn or experience things in many different modes; hence, our programs, products, and services are geared towards all modalities – the reader, the listener, the traveler, the workshop attendee, etc.  We also believe that a joke or a story is more engaging than a sermon, and a game or a group activity yields more impact than a lecture.

But I must correct myself.  We do have one over-riding belief:  The more that people exchange, transact, and just "mix it up" with our brothers and sisters around the planet – even if they're just down the street or at the end of the electron beam from our keyboard – the more we're probably going to "feel better, have more, and be more. "  To the degree that we start attaining those ideals, both as individuals and as nations, religions, cultures or other institutions, we will start to experience greater harmony, greater productivity, and more peaceful relations at home and abroad. 

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Those were, and are yet still, my thoughts; and I remain committed to address this calling through whatever faculties, resources, and sheer luck I may be privileged to tap into. 

We have everything we need to make our world "The Best of Times."  Sometimes we just need to be "shaken up" to recognize this.  But the time is ripe, and a new fleet is gathering.   I invite you to become a New Gulliver (perhaps you are already!).  Welcome aboard!

Stephen Banick
January, 2007