I find myself checking on the progress of my equine hero Barbaro several times a day and in the middle of the night, even though the vet hospital at the University of Pennsylvania has now graduated to weekly online updates. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Reassurance that he isn’t worse and that he is healing? That he is still a master at survival? That good can come out of bad? All of these.

Yes, I need a hero, I admit, but my connection with this Derby champion is deeper. I see my strengths and weaknesses in him; if he can triumph, maybe I have a chance, too. But even more to the point, I couldn’t ignore his condition if I tried; I’ve always fought for the underdog.

I don’t believe America saw Barbaro at first as another Seabiscuit, a hero around whom we could unite in times of national conflict and disharmony. His owner Gretchen Jackson said she thought his popularity sprung from such a need. I only know I bonded deeply with this animal because I saw the accident happen and my heart broke when I was reminded of the cruel realities of the sport. Barbaro was a victim of business, of horse racing’s demands that its throughbreds take great risks, be sacrificial and give their all.

And so I handle my pain of seeing Barbaro injured by taking from this story what I need for my own survival and in sharing these thoughts with others. It gives me strength to honor his courage and spirit. This beautiful creature has discovered how to balance fighting for his life with accepting the horror of his fate, his fate being the unjust demands that racing places upon him. In so doing he moves beyond those horrors and finds hope. So do we.

Each of us struggles daily to overcome our own individual challenges. What is the Barbaro in each of us: vulnerability that we must protect and lifeblood that must survive? We have more choice than Barbaro but we are still threatened by the consequences of our choices. Perhaps if we find those factors and talk about them, we can effect good teamwork like Barbaro’s team and achieve success as well.

Barbaro, and those who care for him, are ready-made examples of how we can communicate with one another more meaningfully and effectively. For our mission to be heard by our audiences and markets, we must help them connect with our pain, our need; dare to show our best and our worst; be open, courageous and compassionate with one another. People can’t help us if we don’t show them how. There is no unity or victory in isolation.

Is this why Barbaro stole your heart, too, and you connected with him? We all had the same opportunities to see the accident happen, receive updates, be let in on his progress and the dangers (at least that is our perception). And through it all to grow to trust that we were hearing the truth. We were encouraged and invited to support him, through gifts and love and good wishes. In short, we were informed and included in his journey of health and recovery. 

The parallels of Barbaro’s struggle to our own lives serve as reminders of our own vulnerablity and mortality. We can use them to our advantage or let them sap our ability to live a full and generous life.

Barbaro’s struggle unites us at a time when our nation does, in fact, need to root for the same cause, for a hero that demonstrates courage and a love of life. We did need a Seabiscuit after all. But if Barbaro is our Seabiscuit, it is under even more miraculous circumstances of winning the long race of healing, a much greater accomplishment than a win at Pimlico on that fateful Saturday in May would have been. 

Thank you, Barbaro, for standing firm, for giving every ounce of your being. And thank you owners, trainers and medical team for bringing us into the fold. Our country needed that.

The concrete lessons for all of us - leaders and communicators - both nonprofit and corporate, are huge. To our fund-raising, marketing and PR teams - let us dare to show the vulnerablity of our cause, of our Barbaro. Let us articulate our goals, ask for what we need and let others help us get there, not by mincing emotions but by letting passion bestow its full energy.

Expressing our need for hope can unite us around each others’ causes. In acknowledging our limitations, we find our strengths, individually and collectively. 

Yes, Barbaro is some horse. And so are we.