I’m not sure when I first experienced the emotion of embarrassment, but I am still haunted by one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. It was kindergarten parent night. We had spent days, if not weeks, in preparation for this event. One of the things was preparing various artworks to put up in the classroom. We did simple finger paintings which were to be displayed in the classroom. I entered with my Mom, looking forward to sharing my work with her. But we couldn’t find it.
My last name started with a “B” so my Mom, holding my hand, naturally went toward the front of the classroom looking for my picture. We looked, among the pictures, discerning no rhyme or reason to how they were organized.
Sensing confusion, Miss H, announced to all filling the room that “the finger paintings are not in alphabetical order, they are in the order of how good they are.” So, we walked and walked, passing the pictures of my classmates. With each step, I felt the color in my cheeks rise. It seems it was at the very end of the room! There we found my finger painting.
On the walk, shame filled my heart. “I’m not good.” “What’s wrong with me?” “My painting is ugly.”
The long walk symbolized my inadequacy, my lack of creativity, and my lack of artistic imagination. I recall walking with my head down, listening to the praise others received, and looking to my Mom, who assured me it was a good picture. My mother, who was a social worker and a strong advocate for her children, I’m sure had some words later with the teacher. But, at that moment, I was thoroughly embarrassed and defeated.
From a finger painting, I learned, “I am not creative,” “I am not good,” and “I am not an artist.”
Worse, the message of my inadequacy was relayed to my peers. I had the worst finger painting. Funny, a friend of mine remembering the same event and the same shame, thought her picture was last. Following Miss H’s example, we kindergartners learned to judge, mock and tease, and to value each other according to a standard of beauty of unknown origin.
I cried to my Mom, “I don’t want to go back,” “I don’t want to see my picture at the back of the room,” “I will not fingerpaint again!” EVER!
So, what does this have to do with my creative process today, 60+ years later? It is said that to quell a negative voice, one needs to hear many more positive voices. Fortunately, I’ve heard many. My third-grade teacher saw possibilities in me, and declared “You are a writer!” But that did not necessarily extinguish that first experience of my creativity being publicly shamed and mocked.
So, now to publish my creative efforts, I have to crawl through the muck of Miss H’s and others’ enduring screeches, to find the encouraging voices, and the courage I need to share. So, much of my writing resides in journals, on drives, and in my secret places. I’m still learning to share my work without worrying of judgment. Sharing this recollection is part of that effort.
How about you? Do you have an early memory that undermined your sense of your creativity, intelligence, or worth? Was there a teacher who embarrassed or humiliated you? Does the sting remain? I’m grateful for those who spoke words of affirmation and encouragement to me. All these years later, they help me to press “publish.”
Over dinner the other day, I mentioned to my beloved that I did not feel that I had gotten much done this year. I bemoaned the plans that stalled and complained that despite my efforts, I had made no progress on my business. I explained that nothing I had planned to do had really been finished and many things on my list in January, were still there today. I was getting worked up as the observation morphed into a full-on pity party.
I looked up to see disbelief cross his face. He was shocked and was not having it. “No accomplishments? What about getting your A1C down?” “What about getting your parents’ house cleared? He quickly listed several others, and sat back. “Have you forgotten how often you showed up for stuff–supporting siblings, children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and even a few strangers? “His frustration was palatable, particularly since a lot of the things he mentioned required sacrifice on his behalf as well.
(“Uh, oh, I forgot about those things,” I thought and then silently wished I had not said anything.)
“You need to give yourself a break!” Conversation ended. Pity party over. I admitted that perhaps a lot had been accomplished. I had risen to the occasion when I needed to, and that meant that some of my plans had been waylaid. Nevertheless, a lot had been accomplished. I had just forgotten.
So, as we approach the end of another year, it’s the perfect time to recall, celebrate, assess, and amplify our achievements. While it’s easy to get caught up in the hustle of daily life and constantly strive for the next goal, taking time to acknowledge and magnify our successes is a crucial step toward building a foundation for success in the upcoming year.
Assess: Reflect and Celebrate Your Journey
Before diving into amplifying achievements, it’s essential to pause and reflect on the journey. Sit down with your calendar, journal, and any other system you use to document your days. Even Google Maps, your photos, receipts, or your social media page can provide valuable information. Consider the goals you set at the beginning of the year — big and small. What milestones did you reach? What challenges did you overcome? What unexpected events changed the trajectory of your plans? How did you adapt? What new plans and goals took predominance?
By reflecting on the highs and lows, your actions and reactions, you gain a holistic and realistic view of your achievements. This sets the stage for a meaningful celebration.
Why Celebrate?
Celebrating achievements isn’t just about patting yourself on the back; it’s a powerful tool for motivation and self-esteem that will inspire you for the next year. When you take the time to acknowledge your accomplishments, no matter how small, you’re reinforcing positive behaviors and fostering a sense of pride in your work. This, in turn, boosts your confidence and sets the tone for continued success.
Don’t skip this step! Most of us never look back and say, “that was good,” or “I did that well.” As one friend of mine observed, even the Creator celebrated his great works. Scripture says that he looked around each day, studied what he had created, and proclaimed that it was good. So, no excuses, put away the false humility, and celebrate your wins!
The Amplification Process
Now, let’s delve into the process of amplifying your achievements. It’s about more than just acknowledging success; it’s about sharing, learning, and using those achievements as a springboard for future endeavors.
1. Document Your Achievements:
Start by creating a comprehensive list of your achievements throughout the year. Don’t limit yourself to major milestones; include the smaller victories and moments of personal growth. Aim for a list of at least one per month. This list becomes a tangible reminder of your capabilities.
2. Share Your Successes:
Don’t be shy about sharing your achievements with others. Whether through social media, a blog post, or a conversation with a friend, vocalizing your successes amplifies their impact in your own mind, and solidifies their importance in your own heart. A bonus is that your successes will inspire those around you. Your journey might be the catalyst for someone else’s motivation.
3. Analyze the Why and How:
Dive deeper into your achievements by analyzing the strategies and skills that led to success. Understanding what worked well provides valuable insights for future endeavors. Did meticulous planning contribute to a project’s success? Was effective communication a key factor? Was it a solo or team effort? You’re equipping yourself with a toolkit for future success by dissecting the elements that led to achievement.
4. Express Gratitude:
Acknowledge the support and contributions of those who played a role in your achievements. Expressing gratitude not only strengthens relationships but also builds a supportive network for future endeavors. Consider sending thank-you notes or text messages, acknowledging their role in your Christmas letter, or organizing a small appreciation event (in person or virtual) to show your gratitude to those who supported you this year.
5. Create a Visual Celebration:
Remember that list of your accomplishments? Turn your list into a visual celebration. Create a vision board or a digital collage or even a screen saver showcasing your successes. Visual representations can serve as daily reminders of your capabilities and aspirations, fostering a positive mindset.
Move Forward with Confidence and Take Action
2023 was a year of the unexpected for me. Deep pain and loss coexisted with great anticipation and joy. This is the human experience.
So, as an end-of-the-year hack, assessing and amplifying your achievements becomes a powerful catalyst for future success. By consciously celebrating and sharing successes, confidence and motivation are boosted and others are inspired. The process of reflection, analysis, and goal-setting transforms individual achievements into a blueprint for continued growth and accomplishment in the coming year.
Cancel the pity party! Take an hour or two today to assess and amplify your achievements—your future self will thank you for it.
P.S. This post accompanies an episode from The 3-Minute Booster, “Hacks, Habits and Humor: #1 Assess Your Achievements” a daily video podcast by Gabriel Pecher and Grace Carter that can be found here: https://www.facebook.com/100093836490522/videos/683537120573853 Continue reading
Genealogical evidence shows that my ancestors were in the American British colonies at the time of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776. My sixth great-grandfather, Major Jones, was born in Sussex County, Virginia in the early years of the republic in 1794. Records do not identify his parents, though obviously his mother was enslaved at the place of his birth, Liberty Hall.
To emphasize the context of this un-named woman in the colony of Virginia, the following demographics are helpful. In 1776, Virginia was the most highly populated of the colonies at 760,000. 40% of those people were enslaved. Among them was a young girl enslaved at Liberty Hall.
Today, I imagine what it meant for her to hear the great excitement around her that Independence from England has been declared. No doubt folks shot off fireworks, and shot cannons or muskets into the air. Celebrating FREEDOM!
White folks, some slaveowners, some not, gathered to celebrate. They were all beneficiaries of an economy built on the notion that labor from some, could be self-perpetuating and virtually free. They enjoyed meals, dance, talk and gossip about what the Declaration would mean to them. They were served drinks, fanned in the July heat, and fed meals prepared by enslaved hands. They were either ignorant, oblivious, or shockingly dismissive of the irony of celebrating their own inalienable rights to freedom while purporting to own the mind, body and soul of black bodies.
My ancestor, of so little consequence that she was unnamed in the records of her son’s birth, must have heard the cry for Freedom and briefly marveled that it could be for her. Would those who hungered for freedom for themselves ignore the cry for freedom of those that they defined and abused as chattel? For those who will push back with well-oiled notions of benevolent slavers, it should go without saying that denial to any person and their progeny of the basic human rights of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” is abusive, and warrants rebellion.
For my unnamed ancestor, she must have swallowed her expectancy, toiled on, with an eye toward the eventuality of freedom for her progeny. So today, I do not so much honor the Virginia signers of the Declaration — Jefferson, Braxton, Richard Lee, Nelson, or Wythe — but this young woman and others like her who did not give up, who lived and birthed, and toiled and hoped.
This Independence Day, I acknowledge my sacrificed grandmother and hope that she knows that her life was not in vain.
The celebrations of Passover and Holy Week coincide this year, which always strikes me as a time for contemplation and joy. It was at such a celebration, just as the last of the lamb, bitter herbs and other symbolic foods of the Passover were consumed that Jesus began what would be his parting instructions to his disciples. In the style of one who has much to say, but without much time to say it, he began with the most important things, so his first command is a significant one.
“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.”
John 13:34-35
By what marking?
Jewish men were known among the people of the era by the outward sign of circumcision. This was a culture where outward displays were used to signify who you were, what you were, and to define your status in the culture. (Not unlike us today). A Roman centurion could be readily identified by his distinctive uniform. A bondservant, by the awl through an earlobe. Wealth and royalty could be distinguished by a crimson or purple garment. By what marking would a disciple of Christ be known?
Christ’s answer must have been shocking to these 1st-century disciples. You are to love, and keep on loving each other. You will be known by the way you love each other. They would not be known by their phylacteries on their forehead, or by a head covering; nor by a cross or a tattoo. No, people would know Christ’s disciples by the way they love. Barnes suggests that this commandment “showed the strength of attachment which we ought to have for Christians, and how ready we should be to endure hardships, to encounter dangers, and to practice self-denial, to benefit those for whom the Son of God laid down his life.” (Barnes, Commentary on John 13:34-35)
By what means?
Many translations say “you are to keep on loving each other” to signify the Lord’s intent that this was not a mere platitude of love, but a constant action, a state of being. (e.g. The Complete Jewish Bible). Their model was Christ himself. They were to model among themselves and to others, the love of Christ. The word for love used in this scripture is the Greek word “agape.” This defines a type of love completely selfless, so awesome in its character that many describe it as God’s love, which suggests that it is unattainable. But Jesus said this kind of love was not only possible for those who were His disciples to manifest; it was expected. It is a COMMAND.
In the twenty-one centuries since Christ, science has revealed that in our cellular structure is Deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA), a nucleic acid that contains the genetic instructions used in the development and functioning of all known living organisms and some viruses. From DNA, our physical characteristics can be predicted, disease can be anticipated, our genealogies traced, and our identities known.
According to this passage, love is in the spiritual DNA of his disciples. In their letters, John, Peter, and Paul expanded upon and encouraged us regarding this unusual badge by which a follower of the Way of Christ would be known. However, none is better known than Paul’s great exposition on love in 1 Corinthians 13. According to Paul, without love, we are nothing. It is patient, kind, and not jealous. Love is neither arrogant nor braggadocios; it acts appropriately without seeking its own interests, without provocation, without keeping account of a wrong suffered. Love rejoices in truth and despairs of unrighteousness. Love bears, believes, hopes, and endures. Love never fails.
By what measure?
The agape kind of love seems impossible to accomplish, doesn’t it? But it is in your nature. It is in your spiritual DNA. How much work does it take for your hair to grow in its distinctive color? Or your eyes and skin in their unique hues? Do you worry that you will wake up looking like someone else because your DNA malfunctioned? Yet, we sometimes cannot fathom that we are equipped to love each other just as our Lord instructed.
My pastor used to challenge us – would you be convicted in a court of law of being a disciple of Christ’s? As a lawyer, this measure spoke volumes to me. Is there sufficient evidence in my life of my love for the brethren? Is there preponderant evidence in my actions that I love the poor, the sick, the incarcerated, the widows, or the homeless on our streets? Is there clear and convincing evidence in my checkbook of my commitment to love by supporting the unlovable, the forgotten, the hopeless, and helpless? Does my life prove my discipleship beyond a reasonable doubt?
Would a jury convict me? An honest answer is that often, the answer has been, no, I’d be acquitted. I’ve been incognito. I’ve been unrecognizable at times. I have utterly failed at others. But the good news is that it is not too late to adopt and adapt. To continue the analogy, the evidentiary record is still open. It is not too late to love. It is not too late to be known as a lover of the people. It is not too late to don the garment of love.
Our discipleship will not be measured by the “fish” or flag plastered on your vehicles, the scripture or symbol tattooed across your chest, the cross around your neck, or the fine markings in your well-worn Bible. No, everyone knows you and recognizes you as a disciple by the way you love. Won’t you challenge yourself to be a disciple who loves and keeps on loving? I’d look forward to hearing your thoughts in the comments below.
What’s the impact of your self-talk on your quality of life? Your potential for success? Your ability to fulfill your dreams? The answer is more than you think!
The great motivational speaker Zig Zigler taught that you could change your entire life by the words you speak over yourself. When someone asked him “how are you?”, his answer was an over the top, unqualified, “Better than good!”
What’s your answer to this question- “how are you?” Do you answer “okay, I guess,” “fair” or “not that good” or “could be better?” By speaking words of lack, mediocrity, and ill-health over yourself – you are day-by-day, convincing yourself of this truth. When I am asked that question, my unqualified answer is “Great!”
What if you responded, “Great!” with the same enthusiasm as Tony the Tiger in the old television commercial or that Shaq O’Neill does in the new one? Can you really say “Great!” and not have a smile on your face? Can you say “Great” and not feel your heart rate uptick a bit, or feel energy flood your cells. Try it – say GREAT! and take note of your physical, emotional, and spiritual response.
An Experiment
When I first heard Zig’s advice, at a business building conference, I thought it a bit off putting. What if I didn’t feel “great?” Why would I lie about it? What if I really was sick, broke, and unhappy? Why would I say “GREAT” like Tony the Tiger? Why should I pretend to be happy (great, even) when I am dissatisfied with my life?
Because if you say so – so it is! If you say “I am weak” then, over time, your mind hearing this, will be convinced of your weakness and — you are right.
Because if you say, “I will never lose this last 20 pounds,” – you are right.
Because if you proclaim, “I will never be successful,” – you are right.
Because if you utter, “I will never feel well” – you are right.
Because if you play the reel of your failed romances, and repeat “I will never find a mate” – you are right.
Because if you recall your failures, and prophesy “I am a failure” – you are right.
Zig issued a challenge to my audience to simply change their response to the “how are you?” question. I chose the simple word, “Great!” Can I tell you that making this word my “normal” response changed my life?
A Transformation
Eventually, it was second nature. I easily responded GREAT! Not only that, it was true! People would ask me if I really was “great” and I really had to answer “yes” because I really was. In hindsight, I can see that every area of my life changed for the better from this small start.
The wisdom writer, Solomon says “as he thinks within himself, so he is.” Ouch! Male or female, the biggest source of degrading, unfulfilling, doubt-filled words over our lives likely comes from our own self-talk. How many times do the words that you speak about yourself (whether audibly, under your breath, or in your sub-conscious) come from a place of self-pity, self-doubt, self-hatred, worthlessness, hopelessness, depression, or disappointment? How often do you speak profanities over yourself – calling yourself stupid, idiotic, dumb… and worse?
Right about now, you might protest and say the negative self-concept you have comes not from yourself, but from your mother, father, spouse, former lover, boss, or whoever. That is probably true. Taken in full context, the words of Solomon suggest that the negativity of our hearts is contagious- to the degree that he counsels – do not eat the food served by a selfish man – because that misery in his heart will pass on to you and upset your stomach. It is no surprise that people who speak negatively of themselves also berate their children, their spouses, their neighbors, and anyone else they come into contact with. In effect, they pass on this toxicity and negativity as they might a virus.
Speaking of a virus, at the time of this writing, the world is in the midst of a pandemic. The impact has been widespread and devastating in the U.S. and around the world. Not one nation on the planet has been spared, not one people group has been spared, not one ethnicity, strata, or gender, has been spared. Can your life be “great” in the midst of a pandemic? In the midst of unimaginable loss? In the midst of uncertainty? Yes. Circumstances will change. You will have to adjust and readjust to varying conditions. You may need a therapist, counselor, coach, or other advisors to help you through the rough spots. But the attitude you bring to it is the difference between “fair to middlin’” and great. And that attitude or mindset shift makes all the difference in the world.
Unfortunately, as we say vicious, hurtful things to and about ourselves, circumstances, and futures- those words are often much worse and harsher than we would say to a stranger, let alone say to someone we love. Self-inflicted hurt is often repeated. The words preview our conduct, and eventually, that self-talk is manifested as reality. You have become what you spoke over yourself.
Here is the wonderful thing – you can control what comes from your mouth. You can stop the cycle that arose in your family of origin. You can change your environment. You can change your brain. You can begin to be “GREAT!” You can encourage yourself! You can call out your good qualities, strengths, and victories (and rejoice in them). You can tell yourself that you are good. You can look in the mirror and complement your good looks, your wonderful hair, your perfectly set eyes, your intellectual brilliance, and your celebratory efforts. You can experience your future right now. Why wait? Right now, rather than degrade yourself, purpose to admire the absolutely unique, and marvelously awesome, YOU!
A Challenge
Accept the challenge that I accepted from Zig Zigler, 30 years ago. For 70 days, when someone asks how are you, upgrade your response from the middle of the road, mediocre, half-stepping place where you usually are. Respond with something that makes your enthusiasm for life soar. Do it every single time. Respond that you are “great,” “fantastic,” “wonderful,” “awesome” or like Zig, “better than good!” Chose a word that represents a positive response about where you want to be and where you are going, let that be your response. And remember, it’s not a lie – it’s a process. Believe it, and watch it become your truth. Let me know what happens when you try this simple practice. I can’t wait to hear.
Resources: Ziglar, Zig, Better Than Good: Creating a Life You Can’t Wait to Live (2010) Holy Bible, Proverbs 23:6-7 (NASB, 1995) “The Impact of Coronovirus on Households across America,” https://www.rwjf.org/en/library/research/2020/09/the-impact-of-coronavirus-on-households-across-america.html#:~:text=COVID%2D19%20has%20created%20serious,problems%20during%20the%20coronavirus%20outbreak (accessed online on March 20, 2021).
I stood at the start line and looked around me. Not a gray hair in the bunch. It would be a tough morning… the call started – ready…set…run! I waved a quick goodbye to my husband as the group of 40 or so runners surged across the start line. They took off like jackrabbits! This run started with a 400 yard or so open field sprint before the hills and the woods looming ominously ahead.
My first trail run. It sounded like fun to run outside in the woods and this particular one was billed as good for beginners. So I signed up . . . .
In a matter of seconds, I was swallowed by the woods and a massive hill. I trudged upwards, chatting with a companion who was about my speed – God! this was hard – when will this hill end, I thought. Since the park was not closed, I scurried past some hikers, complete with hiking poles and backpacks and thought for the first (but not the last) time, why am I out here?
At the top of the hill, my companion sprinted off and I was left alone. I looked around me – huge stands of redwoods were in this park, unbelievably massive trees creating semi-circles of protection – each protecting and sheltering the other- and creating a mossy coolness in the park. At another spot, a meadow of beautiful wildflowers. Awesome beauty, so this is trail running!
Why am I out here?
Again, this is a familiar thought… one I have every time I run a race. Why did I think this was a good idea? I had learned that it was a 10-miler (not 10K) when I picked up my bib 30 minutes before the start, and “gulp!” I realized I had misread the description of the course. Some longer distance folks were prepared to do 2 or 3 loops of the course. I was doing 4 miles longer than I had planned.
I settled into my cadence. In the second hour of the race, a guy ran up behind me, saying excuse me “ma’am” – I was surprised that someone was coming from the rear, but also that he had referred to me as “ma’am” – an indication that I was not a peer.
He would soon be followed by another – “excuse me ma’am,”
and another “how is it going ma’am?”
or a cheery “way to go, ma’am!”
I was beside myself – who do these jackrabbits think they are talking to? I muttered to myself – as another happy multi-lap runner sped by me, “how ya’ doing ma’am?”
“They are treating me like I’m somebody’s grandmother,” I pouted aloud to no-one in particular.
This comment was followed by a shock of recognition – I am somebody’s grandmother – indeed by this point, I had two grandsons with another on the way. These mostly young runners saw me as somebody’s grandma, and they were right!
With the ins and outs of the breath, that thought roiled, becoming a mantra – I am somebody’s grandma. I am somebody’s grandma. I am somebody’s grandma. I am somebody’s Grandma!
I was named after my own grandmother, and here I was, deep in the California woods, really feeling for the first time that I had become Grandma Grace! I trudged on.
Why am I out here?
I came to a sudden stop. This trail had streams which had to be crossed without the benefit of a bridge. As I contemplated how to traverse the one ahead, too deep to avoid getting my ankles wet, and too wide to jump, I met a fellow runner – “hi ya’ doing Ma’am – I’m doing the 20” -he said, as he splashed by me into the ankle deep water.
I stared at the stream looking for a way to cross with dry feet. “Just do it, ma’am, just plop on through to the other side,” he encouraged, noticing my discomfit.
“You’ll dry quickly! You are doing great! Keep going, ma’am!” And he was off!
“No kidding! I laughed, incredulous; and, then more seriously, yelled after him –
“How far do I have to go?”
“Only 2 more miles or so,” he hollered back.
Left with my thoughts, I realized in the time he had done 18 miles, I was at a measly 8 miles. But this “water element” was not going to stop me.
So I did. Plop, plop, plop . . . through the icy cold spring run-off, to the other side, and off I trudged with my wet socks, and wet, squishy goretex trail shoes for the final two miles – marveling at the pure joy and abandon I felt.
Why I am out here.
That first trail run was not my last. I love the beauty of the outdoors. I enjoy the uncertainty of the terrain, and the unpredictability of the course. I love the pitting of myself against the course-with no expectation but finishing . . . alive. And I loved the camaraderie and encouragement among runners sharing in the challenge of the course.
While I see myself as strong, vital, vibrant, and ready to take on challenges– others might look at me and see my graying hairs and see somebody’s Grandma. How would I respond to that?
As I emerged from the woods, down a steep, quad crushing, knee-jarring ravine toward the finish line, I realized that I would respond just as I had at every stage of my life- with joy, with expectancy, and with a bit of surprise.
How about you? Are you a runner, hiker, biker, swimmer, or endurance athlete? Have you had experiences of acknowledging your own prowess as you age? or overcome disability? Outside of sport, have you found yourself in situations where you have had to shine in the face of doubt? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below.
As I approached the house from the garage, my heart sank. The back door was open, actually forced open, swinging oddly as if off the hinge.
“We’ve been robbed!” I hollered to my daughters, both too young to really understand my upset. I grabbed the phone and began to mentally take notice of the house. All the kitchen cabinets were opened, evidence that a peanut butter sandwich had been made, peanut butter still on the knife, and bread was strewn on the counter. There was no jelly, though the open fridge showed the thief had looked.
“Who makes sandwiches while they are robbing someone?”, I wondered aloud.
The 911 operator came on and I reported that my house had been robbed. “Are they still there?”, she asked.
I had not considered that, and I quickly called the girls back to me. “You have children with you? You should go outside and wait she said with a knowing concern. “Officers are on the way.”
I had never been robbed before, so followed the instruction and went outside to wait, taking the girls to the neighbor’s house.
When the police arrived, they went in and immediately, recoiled. “Wow, they cleaned you out!”
“They did?” I said coming in behind them and stretching around to see.
“Your kitchen table is gone!” He started to write it down.
“I didn’t have one,” I said glumly.
But looking around carefully, I noticed a bare wall, “Hey! They took the kitchen clock.”
“The clock? That’s odd.” He wrote down 1 clock.
Into the living room, he yelled, “Your television is gone!”
“No, I didn’t have a television.”
He pointed to an empty corner, and said hopefully, “They took your couch?”
“No, there was no furniture there.”
On my desk, he looked at the pile of papers, obviously ruffled through.
“Oh no, I don’t see the computer I had rented, looks like they took that.”
“You rented a computer?”
“Yes, I had to leave it when I left my home, so I rented one until I can afford to buy another.”
“Okay,” he said, writing down the details I could remember of the computer.
“You didn’t get a TV in the divorce?”
“Stereo?”
“No.”
As we headed to the second floor, I explained. “I have my daughters, my books, things that I value. My books!” I exclaimed, running up the stairs.
“Ma’am, there is no reason to run, in all the years I’ve been doing this, nobody has ever stolen a book.”
Phew… there were my books, still in boxes. Untouched. He peered over my shoulder, “You didn’t get the bookshelves?”
“No, I didn’t get any furniture except my daughters’ stuff. Hey, they took another clock from this room,” I pointed.
“When I get some money, this is going to be my library,” suddenly feeling like I had to offer some explanation for the sparsity of my living condition.
Into my sparse bedroom, he was silent. Looking at the floor by my bed, “Gee, they took my clock radio… I guess that means they took every clock I owned.”
“Well, it looks like they took clocks and a rented computer. You got off pretty well, Miss, they only stole stuff you don’t care about.”
“Why would anyone take clocks?” I murmured.
“Well, they couldn’t leave totally empty-handed, so they took the only things they could find. You are lucky, usually, they will trash a place. . . uh . . .like this.”
My neighbor ventured up the stairs with the girls in tow… they ran into their room, searching . . . and came out each holding their favorite stuffed animals. None of their stuff was taken, and I was pleased.
The officer checked around the house, declared it clean. He and his partner secured the door, and came back to finish the report. Looking at the volume of Colorado Civil Procedure open on my desk… said “Hey — are you a lawyer?”
“Yes,” I said meekly. “I am. I just opened an office on East Colfax.”
“You are a lawyer and you didn’t get anything in your divorce?” He was incredulous, and immediately doubted my prowess as a lawyer given my bad fortune and my dire surroundings.
I explained as I had before to folks, surprised by my poverty. “I had a choice to fight over a bunch of stuff that didn’t matter or leave with the things that mattered most to me and rebuild my life. I know it looks like I’m dirt poor and don’t have anything, but I got the best part. I got my daughters, healthy and happy; my books, my business, and my sanity. I can grow from here.”
In the end, I got the best part. “When you are at rock bottom, there is nowhere to go but up!”
He laughed as he looked at my empty living room, table-less kitchen, and now clock-less home. “You are right!” He declared, “you have nowhere to go but up!”
For a moment, the cloud that had enveloped me since my divorce lifted, and I really believed that it would be all right. My proclamation to the concerned cop had increased my own confidence and faith. I could really see that sometime in the future, I was going to be able to look back at these days one day with fondness. Despite my fear of the robbers coming back, that night I slept soundly, the first time in several months.
A few days later, there was a knock at the door, and there stood the officer, a new television under his arm. He set it in the empty living room explaining he told his fellow officers about me, and they took a collection and bought my children a television. Tears filled my eyes, I can’t take this, I protested. No, it’s yours, he insisted, as my girls started bouncing practically off the walls with delight! “Thank you, thank you so much!”
Lessons in Transitions The two years of 1988-1990 were rock bottom places in my life. I learned that even at rock bottom there are a few more downward slips that can happen. The transitions in this story: from married to single, from partner parents to warring parents, from doing pretty well to impoverished, from looking “marvelous” to being exposed and ashamed are transitions. How we negotiate them is the difference between climbing out of the depths and taking up permanent residence there. Here are four lessons I learned.
You are not the first
There is a tendency to believe that whatever is happening to you has never happened to anyone in the history of humankind. As you take stock of your circumstances, seek to find a broader world view- beyond your own circumstances. Put yourself in the “course of human events.” If you are a reader, read biographies of those who have overcome circumstances similar to yours. Find a coach, mentor, guide, or friends who have had similar experiences and be open to learn from their experiences.
You are not alone
If you are mourning and grieving your losses and no earthly good to your children, your boss, your employees, and your family, find some counseling, quickly. Accept the offers of care, companionship, and concern that come your way. The friends that bolstered me during this dark period are still my friends today. The pure exhaustion of trying to do everything necessary to take care of my family and my business often left some loose ends. Rather than live in squalor, accept the offer of a friend to help clean up your house. Rather than end up with the children having scurvy, accept the offers of meals from friends. Let yourself be doted upon, and cared for by those who love you.
You are not at the end
How many times do we think in absolutes when we face life’s difficult spots? “I’m finished.” “I’ll never. . .” “Why, me?” It may be that your dead marriage is over, but life is not over for you! It may be that the job you were never very good at has mercifully ended with your termination, but it doesn’t mean you’ll not find a position that more aptly expresses your gifting and passion. You may have been evicted for nonpayment of rent, and sofa-surfing with friends, but it’s not the end. Once you accept that it is not the end, you can put one foot in front of the other, stepping, however gingerly, away from the “end” and into the bright unknown of the future. The darkest moments happen just as the dawn breaks. The promise is that the righteous may fall down, but they will get back up!
You are embarking on a new journey
The truth is that without unexpected endings and difficult dark places, there are no new beginnings. Instead of bemoaning these transition periods, pull out the binoculars and look toward the horizon. Ask yourself: “What is over there?” “Where am I going?” “How am I going to get there?” There is enthusiasm in the new – if you allow yourself to experience it.
Break free of wallowing in self-pity, shame, and sadness. Instead, realize that whatever was lost was necessary to shed to move to the next place – allow yourself to heal, and then pack your bags! Get ready for the “what’s next?” Prepare yourself for the new thing. Be on the lookout for the new opportunity! When the knock comes, swing the door open wide, and GO! At the time these things happened, I was far away from my spiritual relationship with Christ, but I can look back now and see his presence in protecting me from …my most unpredictable enemy, myself. What about you, are you in a hard place? Do you need some encouragement to regain your footing? Have you ever had to climb from a pit of despair? Or traverse a mountain of problems? I’d love to hear how you traversed your dark places, in the comments below.
In the opening of the musical Hamilton, the last stanzas of the song are:
And I am not throwin’ away my shot I am not throwin’ away my shot Hey yo, I’m just like my country I’m young, scrappy and hungry And I’m not throwin’ away my shot We’re gonna rise up (time to take a shot) I am not throwin’ away my shot We’re gonna rise up (time to take a shot) I am not throwin’ away my shot We’re gonna, rise up, rise up It’s time to take a shot Rise up, rise up It’s time to take a shot Rise up, it’s time to take a shot Rise up, take a shot, shot, shot It’s time to take a shot, time to take a shot And I am not throwin’ away my Not throwin’ away my shot*
This tune really just grabs me, and takes me down memory lane, not so much in terms of the historical accuracy of the refrain, but down the memory lane of my own life. How many times have I had an opportunity and squandered it? How many times have I wished to make a move, but was gripped by fear, and let the opportunity pass? How many times have I acted too quickly, taken the next step a bit too soon, and lost the opportunity? This phrase, “I am not throwin’ away my shot!” is a wartime metaphor for the age.
Both taking and failing to take a shot can be “throwin’ away your shot”
Growing up, my next door neighbor would grab his shotgun on New Year’s or the 4th of July and shoot into the air. We were instructed to stay inside to avoid the horrific fall out from the eventual effect of gravity on a bullet. The noise could be deafening, and to young children sobering and frightening. My Great-grandmother would comment, that the old man is just “wasting his shot.”
In one of the only times I remember holding a gun, my Grandfather was teaching me how to shoot, more particularly how to hunt. When a rabbit appeared at the edge of the forest, he whispered to me “shoot,” but I did nothing. I watched the rabbit wander out into the field, still in my line of fire, but simply could not pull the trigger, feel the kick of the weapon and watch the fall of the creature. The rabbit scampered back into the woods oblivious that its life had been spared. Of that, Grandpa said, I had just “wasted my shot,” noting that “when you are hungry enough, you’ll take the shot.”
Back to Hamilton, one might guess from a historical perspective that a “shot” in a musket or pistol during the Revolutionary War, at least on the Brown (or Blue or Gray) Coat’s side, was an exercise in frugality and opportunism. There were concerns about munitions running low. Wasting a shot that was not certain to hit a target could be costly later on. And missing the target was possibly a precursor to being shot and killed or desperately wounded yourself. The decision to spend a shot was a serious, considered decision, and eventually, the war’s tactics adapted to the revolutionaries’ hesitancy to waste their shot. They became strategic, they adapted better recognizance and spy networks, and used their knowledge of the terrain to change the ways of battle, adapting new warfare tactics.
How a simple question can become a measure of effectiveness
More than just in war, as dramatized in the musical, not throwing away one’s shot is a metaphor for decisions in many aspects of life. Wasting the shot are the ways in life that we miss opportunities, squander our time, and pass on the great chances. Throwing away the shot are ways that we avoid risk, waste money, and resist commitment.
Hamilton and his crew were determined as they stood on the precipice of adulthood, that it would not be said that they threw away their shot. Rather they embraced life, took chances, made some right choices, some regrettable choices, but in the end, faithfully embraced the call on their lives.
When you look at your plans in the various areas of your life, are you focused on making the best of the shot you have? Have you been squandering your opportunities? Did you waste your shot by taking an ill-advised long-shot? Are there any shots in your proverbial musket that you should have fired, but are still holding on to? It’s not too late to adopt this measure of effectiveness – ask yourself, “did I throw away my shot today?” Aim to consistently (and honestly) answer “no.”
I’d love to hear how this resonates with you, as well as any of your take-aways from the tune.
I am the firstborn of my generation which made me the playmate of my older Uncles and Aunt. They were between 5-15 years older than me so they were my playmates, babysitters, caretakers, confidants, and teachers. There was also a fair amount of teasing and “Mikey” moments -activities that might in some cultures be classified as torture. I love my Uncles – the young ones were my father’s brothers and they watched over me as I grew up, gave me a place to stay when I was in college and grad school, and have been my lifelong friends. The funny thing about aging is that there seemed to be a lot more years between us when I was in elementary school, and they were in college than there seems to be now. I’m in my sixties and my Dad’s two remaining brothers are approaching their 80s.
So during a conversation recently, one who has struggled with the family disease – diabetes – for a long time, and has suffered from serious complications for the last several years confessed something that made me pause. He said, “had I known I’d live as long as this, I’d have taken better care of my body!” We laughed, but I quickly wrote that down because it was both a warning and an inspiration.
Youth is the time when experiments, the feeling of indestructibility, and societal pressures lead to developing habits that profoundly impact health. Overeating, overworking, and not exercising; drinking and clubbing, minimizing sleep, and becoming a couch potato often define early adulthood. Who as a 20 or 30-year-old even thinks about what it takes for the body to thrive to age 90 or 100? Yet that is a reasonable life expectancy for many people born after 1990. For a fascinating discussion of the impact of this increased life expectancy on individual choice, societal expectations, and relational dynamics read The Hundred-Year Life, by Lifton Gratton and Andrew Scott (Audible edition 2016).
In my 20s and 30s, I recall giving little consideration to the strength my body must possess in order to live well into my 90s. But now, as I approach “retirement” age, I often think about how to maximize my resiliency for the next 30 or 40 or 50 years.
Lesson One: Don’t Smoke
So what would I tell my 20-year old self about keeping my body healthy? First, don’t smoke. I learned to smoke as a freshman in college and by the time I was 20, I was hooked on nicotine. It held me in its grip until I was 38. I finally quit because I could no longer assume the risk of getting lung cancer – I had two children depending on me. In addition to the long-term effects on my lungs and heart, I calculate that my pack-a-day habit for 20 years cost me over $15,000 in today’s dollars. So if I knew then what I know now – I’d say don’t smoke – ANYTHING- tobacco, vapor, marijuana, – reserve your lungs for one thing – good clean air. Breathe deeply and enjoy the miracle of oxygenated blood, and put the money you save in as high a risk growth fund as you can find. After all, if you smoke, you can’t possibly be averse to risk.
Lesson Two: Exercise vigorously and frequently
The second thing I would tell my 20-year old self is to never stop exercising. As a young person I was active, and I love to get out and run, play tennis, hike, walk, and then I got a car, children, and a sedentary husband, and my life changed. I would tell myself that it is important to keep the stamina and endurance of youth by engaging in every kind of exercise, strength, stretching, aerobic, anaerobic, and just plain play. Make movement and play a part of your life, and model it to those in your sphere of influence, especially your children.
Lesson Three: Love my Body
The third thing I would tell my 20-year old self is to love my body. From the tweens on, women, in particular, struggle with negative thoughts about their bodies. A lot of this comes from nothing but societal conventions about what “looks good,” rather than any understanding about what “is good.”
In my early twenties, I had never been overweight, and had naturally gravitated to a healthy diet, and yet I gained upwards of 70 pounds in my first pregnancy. “Baby fat,” stretch marks and shifts in my body’s shape surprised me and tanked my self-esteem. It started the ups and downs of dieting and body drama. The reality is that with time and a return to normalcy, my health was restored. But my body was forever changed, and I would tell my younger self not to obsess about it. Such change is expected and should be celebrated and appreciated.
Lesson Four: Guard my Heart
The last thing I would tell my 20-year old self is to more carefully consider the company I keep. I drew like a magnet either mean, indifferent, lackadaisical, selfish, egotistical, and arrogant suitors or those who were depressed, unfocused, misdirected, or criminals. As I look back, my sense of my own value as a person was lowered by these associations. I’d tell my 20- year old self to guard my heart with diligence. I’d remember that I have too much to offer to settle.
Here is the good news, even if you are a smoking, couch potato, who hates her body and can see the carnage of bad relationships in your life, don’t fret. It’s not too late to commit to living a long, healthy, vibrant life until you die full of years. Make a plan and start taking the small steps necessary to make your dream a reality.
How about you? What are the lessons you would tell your younger self? What are you doing to ensure that you are primed to thrive into your elder years? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
There are few exercises that immediately bring an “aha!” A couple of years ago, I had such an experience as I did a 5-day “transformation” course. Most transformation courses I’ve taken are about transforming your body, or your diet. This was intriguing because it was really about transforming mindset.
Why Mindset?
Mindset is one of those things that pretty much exists in the background. Not many people think about it, yet, it is the controller or governor of a lot of decision-making, particularly risktaking. In her book Mindset (2015), Dr. Carol Dweck suggests that having either a growth mindset or a fixed mindset is the major difference between successful people and those who experience less success.
But changing your mindset is like changing your cadence if you are a runner. It takes a lot of hard work to change the patterns of movement embedded deep in your brain. And, the change may garner a minor improvement in performance, rather than the monumental result you want. So why bother?
Here’s why. An incremental change of just 1% each month will compound over time to produce massive changes. So really all that is necessary is a small change to your mindset to begin a transformation in what you believe is possible, and by extension, what you see in results.
A Simple Exercise to Start a Mindset Shift
According to Coach Dov Gordon of Alchemist Entrepreneur, when asked what we want to accomplish, we temper our response with what we secretly believe is the maximum of what we can accomplish. In other words, we unconsciously reinforce a limiting or negative belief. To counteract this and intentionally build a growth mindset, he suggests the following exercise:
1. Make a list of those things that you think you can’t have, can’t accomplish, or can’t be.
Don’t think about it very deeply, just write a list of those things you really think are not going to happen for you in your business, personal or other, aspect of your life. Now, review your list—does it seem familiar to you? Spoiler alert! Embedded in that list will be the things you have said that you DO want. That list reflects your mindset about your dreams and desires.
The second part of this exercise will intentionally facilitate the incremental change of mindset. Ready?
2. As you review your list, begin to plant seeds of doubt about the things you have listed.
For example, if you wrote that you don’t believe you can reach your ideal weight – a seed of doubt may be to recall past success and rewrite it to reflect an incremental change. The “I can’t lose the weight” limiting belief is reframed to “with good eating habits, daily exercise, and accountability, I can reach my goal weight.” There may be several reframing statements that come to mind, write them down.
You have taken the negative inner thought, applied doubt to that negative thought and in so doing you have shifted your thinking – you have articulated the possibility. This is an important reframe. By articulating the possibility, you increase the probability.
You can Change Your Mindset
I encourage you to take the time to go through your entire list of limiting beliefs and apply doubt to those negative thoughts. From “I can’t build a successful business that exceeds my current income” to “I have a plan and by executing it I am well able to double my current income.” In the 3 or 4 minutes, it took for me to write my list of “can’ts,” 11 negative beliefs stuck out. By changing my mindset about them – they can become 11 big audacious goals.
Don’t talk yourself out of it by focusing on the simplicity of this exercise or by doubting the effectiveness of a mindset shift. Carol Dweck says that those with a growth mindset, “value what they’re doing regardless of the outcome. They’re tackling problems, charting new courses, working on important issues. Maybe they haven’t found the cure for cancer, but the search was deeply meaningful.” (Dweck, 2015).
Do you need a mindset adjustment? Try this exercise and let me know how you have reframed your negative beliefs in the comments below.
