What? You can fall down twice and still receive a gold medal??
My husband and I were playing Bananagrams and watching the Olympics on Valentine's Day. It was very romantic, really! (And we did the fancy cocktails and treats and assorted other romantic things too. Just so you know.) Anyway, we were watching Mens' Figure Skating. The long program. And this young man in a white and sparkly outfit (19 year old Yuzuru Hanyu of Japan) fell down. Twice. He also leaped and jumped and spun around and did all kinds of things on skates that I couldn't come close to doing, even with no skates and the aid of a very bouncy trampoline.
He received the Mens' Figure Skating gold medal. That's right, he fell down twice and got the gold. My friend Deborah and I were chatting about this the other night and talking about how we both have an old belief system in our heads that "gold medal means perfect". As in flawless. No errors, no mistakes - nothing that anyone can point to as wrong.
But that's not true. Instead, it's about risking a lot. Making big moves that earn points. Falling down loses fewer points than one might imagine. It's so much more about what you actually do accomplish.
Just like life.
We forget this. We are so afraid to risk. Afraid to fall down if we try that big jump. Afraid it will get in our way of the gold medal. But we can't possibly earn a gold medal if we're not willing to fall down. Imagine how many times Yuzuru has fallen as he's learned to skate so well? A thousand? Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? I'm sure it's a lot.
If we're not willing to fall, then we end up in the sidelines watching. We don't engage fully in our lives, afraid to make a mistake that will impact our "score".
Except that it's not the Olympics, and no one is keeping score, and even if they were, we could fall down twice and still get a GOLD MEDAL!
You have to make some mistakes on the road to amazing.
For those of us who got some idea in our heads (probably at school) that mistakes were not ok, this is a revelation we have over and over. I think it needs to be embroidered on a pillow. In pretty script. You can fall down twice and still get a GOLD MEDAL! In the OLYMPICS!
Where can you let yourself do this in your life? Where can you try something new or challenging and allow yourself to fall down?
I've been doing it in dance class with The NOLA Chorus Girl Project. I am learning dances that I can intellectually understand, count out, practice, and sometimes get right, but I regularly mess up. A lot. And I've been practicing and practicing and not actually falling down, but missing steps, counts, whole phrases while I try to catch up. It's fantastic! I practiced enough (a LOT!) to almost get it right at our performance. I missed some steps (ones I'd gotten right dozens of times), but the world did not end. And I kept smiling! (I think!) so I'm giving myself a mental gold medal for that.
I'd love to hear your stories of taking risks or receiving metaphorical gold medals despite "falling". Let's keep the conversation going in the comments!
Permission to live an ordinary extraordinary life
There's a reason why Pippin is my favorite musical. Pippin is seeking an extraordinary life. He sings about it and he searches for it throughout the entire show. He tries everything. War, sex, revolution. Being king. Nothing is right. In despair, he's taken in by a widow with a young son and he lives an ordinary and happy life on her estate for a year, until he leaves again, convinced that there must be something bigger and better out there - some way for him to do extraordinary things. With one last chance (spoiler alert) to go out literally in a blaze of glory, he balks. He ends up on stage alone without sets, makeup, costumes or music. The widow and the little boy come to hold his hands. And he sings, "I wanted magic shows and miracles, mirages to touch; I wanted such a little thing from life, I wanted so much." The last lines of the song are, "It never was there - I think it was here." It's ridiculous how it hits me. It chokes me up every time. It's a cheesy simple story, but I get it. I get Pippin's quest for a meaningful life, and I get his discovery of the meaning in simple things like love, family and just existing.
There's so much beauty and happiness in the ordinary. Today, a fire in the fireplace. Hot chocolate. King cake to celebrate the beginning of carnival season. Puffy clouds. Yellow sycamore leaves. Sunshine. Smiles. Simply being alive.
We're bombarded every day by stories of extraordinary people. People who have raised zillions of dollars for clean water. People who turned ten bucks and an idea into a multimillion dollar business. People who are changing the world in giant ways. It's downright overwhelming.
There are so many choices today. So many options. So much possibility. Even if you have an ordinary life, maybe you become famous because of your cute recipes. Or your Instagram feed. Or your memoir about your dog. Or your Youtube video. If you're not famous, you should still be doing something that's interesting to someone and sharing it somewhere - Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest - oh my goodness, Pinterest! Land of ten thousand ideas for a cupcake!
I ran into a former student at the grocery store the other day. She's amazing, intelligent, and has a great job as a writer for a local publication. And she shared with me how she feels like she needs to be doing more. How she feels this pressure to have made something bigger of her life by the tender age of 24.
Wow. What is happening? When did it become not enough to be a generally good person, make an honest living, take care of one's family, smile at the neighbors, and vote responsibly? Now that we have the capacity to reach nearly everyone on the planet with a tweet or a blog post, and the ability to read about nearly everyone in our assorted blogs and news websites and Facebook feeds, I see a lot of people (clients, myself, friends) running into "compare and despair." Now it's not just the Joneses next door you're trying to keep up with, it's all of humanity!
It becomes more difficult to figure out what you want. There's research to back up how people don't choose when given too many choices. They can't decide where to begin. The brain just shuts down.
Next thing you know, two hours have gone by while you've been scrolling through fascinating articles about amazing people, peppered with funny cat and dog videos. So what do you do?
Give yourself permission to live an ordinary extraordinary life. Focus on your interactions with people in the now moment. At the grocery store. With your family. With your friends. Savor the king cake. Notice the softness of the cat. The dance of the leaves falling from the trees across the street.
Sure, you can still have visions of extraordinary-ness. I have my delusions of Oprah (I'm going to be taping for TV again this Friday! - no, not Oprah!!) I would love to figure out how to do something really big to change the world for the better.
But you know, I like being home. I like talking to one or two people at a time. I like napping. These things make me happy. And they don't destroy the environment. And the Dalai Lama says that if each of us simply strives to be happy, it's one of the best ways to change the whole world.
I'm teaching tonight about money. And here's a hint about what I'm going to say. All those infinite choices? They screw with our money situation too. They cause us to lose focus on what we really want. It's like when you go to a buffet and you end up with a plate full of weird food that doesn't go together. You're surrounded by food and yet you feel yucky and empty.
Get still. Listen. Listen to you. Give yourself permission to lead the life you want. Simple as you want. There's plenty of extraordinary in the ordinary.
What do you think? Leave a comment and let's keep the conversation going!
Too early, too late, too soon, not soon enough
Someone emails you a question, and you read it and know the answer. You could email them back right away and tell them. Or your mind might get in the way. "You're not even supposed to be checking email right now!" "They'll think you're not busy, just hanging out on your computer if you respond right away!" "It's 9 p.m. on a Friday night - what will people think if you respond to an email now? They'll think you don't have a fun social life!" Oh, Mind, you are so very funny.
Or let's switch to blogging. You have an idea, some cool photos, a basic plan of what to write. But then your mind pipes in. "It's too early to write - let's do some other stuff." Or, "It's too late - we'll do it tomorrow when we're fresh." Or "That post would make more sense on a Friday and it's only Thursday." Or "Those photos are from an event last week - who wants to read about that now! Too late!"
Your somewhat nutty but well-meaning mind has you putting things off, waiting because it's too soon, and then abandoning because - Oh! Now it's too late.
Guess what? None of it is true. And it really gets in the way of getting valuable stuff done.
So want a real life example? (I only know this stuff because my mind has its nutty moments!) Way back in April, an extraordinary fellow blogger named Jackie featured me in a beautiful Shine post on her site. And I never really told anyone about it! Why? Because of my mind. First it seemed too soon. Then I was busy, then I was out of town, then I was out of town again, then it seemed too late.
If this ever happens to you, tell your mind to shhhhh... and do the thing. It's not too soon. To write your memoirs. To dust under the bed, even if you did it last week. To call your mom. To try that business idea. Or if you don't do it and your mind says it's too late, again tell your mind hush. It's not too late. To send the thank you note. To organize your finances. To plan that vacation you've been dreaming of. To start taking care of your body.
So, without further ado, here's the link to a Q&A session with Jackie - I loved her questions and loved doing this interview! Perhaps reading this link is exactly what you need today, and that's why I'm posting it, two months later in June. That's what I'm believing tonight. Thanks again, Jackie for the insightful questions!
The power of story, and an intervention by angels...
Within the first couple hours of our road trip to Colorado earlier this month, we lost a wallet. Not fun, right? Here's what happened. We stopped at a convenience store just over an hour away from home to grab some soda and juice. My sweetheart started to give me his wallet to pay, and I said, no - it's ok - I have mine.
We kept driving. To Alexandria, Louisiana. Now about four and a half hours from home. And we got to the hotel, and my sweetheart said, "Honey, what did you do with my wallet?" Oh. No. My stomach dropped. Had he handed me his wallet while he went to the bathroom? What did I do with it? Did I leave it on the counter? We searched high and low. In every possible nook and cranny in the car. We didn't find it. It was 10 p.m.
Ok, so I asked myself, what's perfect about this? (Very hard in a situation like this, believe me.) I always start with, "We're ok." Then, "There wasn't that much money in it.", Then, "Only one credit card to cancel." We got on the phone and took care of that.
Then there was the matter of the driver's license. And here the angels intervened. 1. We were still in Louisiana. 2. We had internet and a laptop to easily search for Motor Vehicle offices. 3. The office in Alexandria was literally less than a five-minute drive from our hotel! Can't you hear the angelic choirs singing??
We went there the next day, first thing. And there wasn't much of a wait. (Go, angels!) And they renewed my sweetheart's license so he won't have to wait in line in a couple of months in New Orleans. And then it was done and we were on our way.
"Ok", you say. "I get it. Angels intervened. But what about the power of story? Why is that in the title?" Well, a couple of reasons. We could have used a lot of energy telling a really different story about this. About how awful it was. About how we couldn't believe that no one had turned in the wallet (we did call the convenience store - amazing that we were able to remember which one and find its number online!) About all the money we'd lost. About the hassle of changing online accounts to new credit card numbers. About how stupid I was for leaving the wallet on the counter, or wherever I'd left it. We could have seen it as a "bad omen" for our whole trip.
But we didn't. We had a fantastic trip. We didn't even think about it much except that my sweetie had to ask me for my credit card when we'd stop for gas.
And then we came home. And you will never guess what was on my sweetheart's desk. Did you guess? You're right! His wallet. Because he'd never brought it in the first place. He'd only offered to pay. He had never actually handed me his wallet! We'd completely fabricated that part of the story!
And here's where the angels actually intervened. What if we had realized we didn't have the wallet at the convenience store- one hour away from home? We would have probably driven back to get it, which would have taken more than twice as long as what we ended up doing. And it would have been a very un-fun two hours. In traffic.
I make up stories all the time - I create motives, fabricate background information, and selectively remember facts. And I just finished a book, a rather dark book, but an incredible story that illustrates this so well. It's called The Sense of An Ending, by Julian Barnes. It's a short, engaging novel that so clearly illustrates the power of story to affect real lives. You'll think you know what's happening right up until the end - I won't spoil it.
So, what stories are you telling yourself these days about the circumstances around you? Do you have a good example of how you turned around what seemed like crummy circumstances into a better story? Are you noticing the intervention of angels/the universe/luck, or whatever you want to call it, in your life? I'd love to hear! Email me at carla@livingwildandprecious.com or share your story in the comments below.
Creating our reality: A moon story
Our minds are very powerful. They are experts at providing us whatever evidence we need to believe the thoughts we have. And here's a story about one of my favorite examples of this spectacular capability.
Back when I was a teacher, when I would begin a unit on the moon with my eighth graders, inevitably a good portion of them would insist that the moon is never out during the day. These were not sheltered children. They were kids who went camping with their families, played soccer, took vacations to exotic locales.
But in their minds, the moon was out at night. They'd gathered lots of evidence to support this thought, from Goodnight Moon to werewolf movies. And when they saw the moon at night, their mind stored that image as more proof that the moon is, indeed, out at night.
So why did they not notice the moon out during the day, like in the photo above? Statistically, the moon is out during the day just as much as it's out at night. So what happened? How could they miss something so gigantic and obvious?
Well, they had no thought to support that evidence. So they didn't even see it. Until I walked them out of the classroom to look up at a blue sky with a white moon. Even then, some students could not fathom that it was the moon. "That's the sun!", they said. It took a lot more evidence mixed in with compassion and patience for them to form the thought, "The moon is sometimes visible during the day", and then they could begin gathering the evidence to back up their new thought.
We so want to trust our mind. It seems so smart, so capable. It stores so much information for us. But it can't hold evidence for thoughts we don't have. And it's great at holding evidence for thoughts we do have, even if -- perhaps especially if-- those thoughts are negative. Hey-- it's just trying to protect us-- to keep us safe -- so we don't get too big for our britches or dream too big. It's so good at remembering all the reasons why we can't do this or that - even ones that date back to something someone said to us in second grade.
So what do we do? We make new thoughts, so we can provide the space for new evidence - for all the good stuff we might be missing - stuff as big as the moon!