I think I can't

Recently,  I took my 10 year old to work with me.  She needed a quiet place do her math homework and my office was the perfect environment.  It was all about fractions. 

My daughter loves to read books and write stories.  Math is something she doesn't like.  In the 3 hours that she was at the office, she completed 2 of her 16 problems.  This was an assignment that should have only taken her 25 minutes.  

When asked why, she started to cry.  The phrases, "I can't,"  and  "I don't know how", and "it's not fair," were thrown around.  

Sound familiar?   Amazing how powerful our thoughts can be.

How often have we said the same things to ourselves and allowed it to limit our own potential? 

After the hugs were given, the tears dried, the nose blown, and the face washed, I told her what I now will tell you:

You are as powerful and smart as you allow yourself to be.  Yes there are things you can't do but most of them you can learn how to do.  

Nothing that is being asked of you right now is beyond your ability.  You have these skills and you have a choice:

                - Avoid the things you know you have to do and deal with the consequences....But 

                   remember these consequences will only support your theory that you can't. 

                                   

                                                                          Or

                -Do it and move on with the knowledge that you didn't give up.  It's not always going to 

                  be easy and a lot of times you're going to have to ask for help but you will get through it 

                  and you will know you did it.

                 At the end of the day what message do you want to take away with you?

The wisdom in ignorance

 As a kid, for obvious reasons, I saw adults as all knowing and flawless.  They never got in trouble nor did they ever make mistakes - only I and the rest of the kids in the world did.

It would be decades later before I discovered that adults were actually very flawed and that their mistakes had much far reaching consequences than the ones I had ever made as a kid. 

So I spent a significant portion of my early adult years, from about 20 to somewhere in my early 30's,  trying very hard to look and act like the person I thought I was supposed to be.  The words "I don't know" or even "No" rarely...I mean never....fell from my lips.  I was always running..always doing...trying to avoid being found out. 

You see looking back at my younger self, I know it was because I was scared.  That people would see how flawed and ignorant I really was.  That once this secret was revealed I would no longer be welcome in this elite society I had so eagerly rushed to join.

If we are all cars on this highway of life, then during this period, it was a very insecure me that was driving.   Three totaled cars later, I'm lucky the DPS still allows me on the road. 

So when did it all change for me?  You would think it was the totaled cars, sigh, but it wasn't. It was a process.  A process that started with the birth of my first child.

Like all other things in my life, I needed to be a competent and capable new mother.  You know what I mean...the Dont tell me anything, I know it all kind of attitude.

Well, I think my daughter's goal in her first year of life was to make sure I realized that I knew absolutely nothing.  She came into this world colicky and when I say colicky, I mean screaming every hour on the hour.

When I wasn't looking for plane tickets to ship her off to my parents, I was holding her tightly next to me and sitting with the fact that I had no clue how to fix this.  Even more mortifying was the fact that I couldn't pretend to have this situation under control. 


 It was during this time that I discovered that when you ask for help - people help.

And so begins my true evolution into adulthood.  My relationships became stronger when I let them see my cracks.  And every time my weaknesses were greeted with acceptance, I became more comfortable in sharing them and in accepting them.

Ten years later, I am still evolving.  I understand and accept that I am flawed.  I know that I don't know everything and I am comfortable in saying the words "I don't know."  

Actually, there's something freeing about those three words.  It allows me the opportunity to find out what I don't know because it is of interest to me not because I am fearful of being seen as ignorant.

And it allows me the opportunity to be OK with the fact that I don't know and don't need to know everything. You know the old saying, "With knowledge comes responsibility?"  Well what I've discovered is that sometimes, I don't want the responsibility.  If I figure out how to use the lawn mower, then ultimately I would end up cutting the grass.  If I knew how to change the air filters in the house, I would be up on that ladder every few months, changing the filters. 

Sometimes, ignorance is very blissful.






 

The Bully

There is a young lady, who will remain nameless, that I adore.  On her first day of school, an 8th grade boy in the lunch line turned to her and in a very loud and derogatory way announced "you have a mustache."  As middle school survivors, most of us know how difficult these three years can be.  Our developmental job during this time is to just fit in...to belong. Not to be identified for being different.   

Fortunately for this girl, her father is a middle school survivor and had already practiced with her what to say for just such a situation.  So she turned around and faced her attacker.  Calmly she looked him over and said, "well at least I have one.".  

With the help of social media and anti-bullying projects, we are all aware of the long term implications of bullying.  And as a result we and our our children are taught skills on how to effectively combat such attacks.  But how often are we taught to deal with the biggest bullies in our lives...ourselves.  That voice in our heads that call us the names we probably/hopefully would never let anyone else call us, or tell us that we can't do it, or that we are undeserving or that you will never succeed so you should just give up.  You know the voice I'm talking about.  

So consider this your anti-self-bullying project and here is your combat skill:

Pay attention to what that voice is telling you and ask yourself if what it is saying is really true...challenge it, tell it that it's not helpful, or just tell it to shut up.  You may find that it is much harder to stand up to that voice than standing up for yourself with others because you can't run from this one or divorce it or quit it but realize that is exactly why you need to face it.  Not challenging it or stopping it sometimes makes it more powerful.   

I asked the young lady in question how it felt to stand up to the kid in the lunch line.  "It hurt my feelings but it felt good to shut him up.".   So true... it does hurt but yet so powerful when you shut up the bully.

Electric Tape

 October 2012

In taekwondo, at least at the one my children attend,  you have to go through stages before you can earn a different color belt.  It starts with white belt then yellow belt then orange etc all the way up to black belt.  With each belt you have to earn four black stripes and then a final red stripe before you can test for the next color.

The stripes are given by the Kwan-jang-nim, master, (and yes I am showing off by using that word).  The funny thing is that these stripes are just strips of electric tape ripped right off the roll and taped around the belt.  But if you could see the way my children's eyes light up each time they earn one you would think it was a gold medal and that the national anthem was about to be played.

It got me thinking about how very little we need to be motivated.  Isn't it amazing how a simple acknowledgement of a job well done can impact our whole day?  Can you think of the last time you have had "the black stripe of success" placed on your belt and how it felt for you?  

Obviously we can't walk around asking people to put electric tape on us or put it on others for that matter.  But we can try to examine what we define as our black stripes.  We can identify goals that we would like to achieve and determine appropriate "stripes" for achieving them.  We can also give ourselves those stripes instead of waiting to be noticed.  Give yourself credit for who you are and what you do. 

A snow ball usually starts as a pebble.  So why not pay attention to the things you are doing well and get your pebble of self acknowledgement rolling and see what happens.