If you haven’t seen the movie (and if you ask, “What movie?” it doesn’t really matter), Luke grudgingly huffed that he would try to lift his X-Wing fighter jet out of a swamp, using nothing more than his mind. This kind of power was new to him. He had lifted a few rocks and his faithful robot, but a fighter jet?

Luke’s attempt starts promisingly enough, but X-Wing stays submerged.

When Yoda puts his mind to the exercise, not only does the fighter lift above the swamp, but moves over and is parked on solid ground next to the pair.

“I don’t believe it!” protests Luke, to which Yoda responds, “That is why you fail.”

This, of course, was fiction, but the writer was making a point. Could Luke’s partner-in-space, Han, have succeeded, even if he did believe it? No. He was not gifted with that particular power.

So what was the point? Luke was gifted. He had even tasted his power in a relatively small way. He should have believed. He might not have experienced his full potential before, but he should have known that he had something special, and surely he could surpass his previous experience?

We might never have lifted rocks with our brains, but we have accomplished many good – even great – things. We know we can do even greater things. It’s not a matter of trying. It’s a matter of doing until we either find our limit or discover that we have no limit.

That’s not Rocket Science!