Thanks Mom. I love you. Now, where were you last night? I was worried!

A MOM WORRIES
 
Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become accountable for their own actions? Is there a wonderful moment when parents can become detached spectators in the lives of their children and shrug, “It’s  their life,” and feel nothing?

When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital corridor waiting for doctors to put a few stitches in my son’s head. I asked, “When do  you stop worrying?” The nurse said, “When they get out of the accident  stage.” My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my thirties, I sat on a  little chair in a classroom and heard how one of my children talked incessantly, disrupted the class, and was headed for a career making license plates. As if to read my mind, a teacher said, “Don’t worry, they all go through this stage and then you can sit back, relax and enjoy them.” My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime waiting for the phone to ring, the cars to come home, the front door to open. A friend said, “They’re trying to find themselves. Don’t worry, in a few years, you can stop worrying. They’ll be adults.” My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

By the time I was 50, I was sick & tired of being vulnerable. I was still worrying over my children, but there was a new wrinkle. There was nothing I could do about it. My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

I continued to anguish over their disappointments, be tormented by their frustrations and absorbed in their problems. My friends said that when my kids got
married I could stop worrying and lead my own life. I wanted to believe that, but I was haunted by my mother’s warm smile and her occasional, “You look pale. Are you all right? Call me the minute you get home. Are you depressed about something?”

Can it be that parents are sentenced to a lifetime of worry? Is concern for one another handed down like a torch to blaze the trail of human frailties and the fears of the unknown? Is concern a curse or is it a virtue that elevates us to the highest form of life?

One of my children became quite irritable recently, saying to me, “Where were you? I’ve been calling for 3 days, and no one answered I was worried.”

I smiled a warm smile.

The torch has been passed.

• Why do doctors leave the room while you change? They’re going to see you naked anyway.
• Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp, which no decent human being would eat?
• If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a song about him?
• Can a hearse carrying a corpse drive in the carpool lane?
• If the professor on Gilligan’s Island can make a radio out of a coconut, why can’t he fix a hole in a boat?
• Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours? They’re both dogs!
• If Wile E. Coyote had enough money to buy all that ACME crap, why didn’t he just buy dinner?
• Why is “bra” singular and “panties” plural?
• If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, what is baby oil made from?
• If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?
• Do the Alphabet song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star have the same tune?
   Why did you just try singing the two songs above?
• Did you ever notice that when you blow in a dog’s face, he gets mad at you, but when you take him for a car ride, he sticks his head out the window?

By the way, the first official Meeting of the Moms , a 5 day national summit for moms who are at all stages of life, is happening in the Fall.  This will be a life-changing, extraordinary event!  Please check out www.momference.com for more information.

Enjoy the post.

**** 

So you want to be a mom? Thinking about having children?

True preparation for parenthood at any age….

Lesson 1
Go to the supermarket.
Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office.
Go home.
Pick up the paper.
Read it for the last time.

Lesson 2
Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who already
are parents.
Berate them about their…
1. Methods of discipline.
2. Lack of patience.
3. Appallingly low tolerance levels.
4. Allowing their children to run wild.

Suggest ways in which they might improve their child’s sleeping habits,
toilet training, table manners and overall behavior. Enjoy it. It will
be the last time in your life that you will have all the answers.

Lesson 3
To discover how the nights will feel…
1. Walk around the living room from 5PM to 10PM carrying a wet bag
weighing approximately 8-12 pounds, with a radio turned to static (or
some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly.
2. At 10PM, put the bag down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to
sleep.
3. Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag,
until 1AM.
4. Set the alarm for 3 AM.
5. As you can’t get back to sleep, get up at 2AM and make a drink.
6. Go to bed at 2:45AM.
7. Get up at 3AM when the alarm goes off.
8. Sing songs in the dark until 4AM.
9. Get up. Make breakfast. Keep this up for 5 years. Look cheerful.

Lesson 4
Can you stand the mess children make? To find out…
1. Smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains.
2. Hide a piece of raw chicken behind the stereo and leave it there all
summer.
3. Stick your fingers in the flower bed.
4. Then rub them on the clean walls.
5. Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?

Lesson 5
Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems.
1. buy a live octopus and a small bag made of loose mesh 2. Attempt to
put the octopus into the bag so that none of the arms hang out.

Time allowed for this - all morning.

Lesson 6
1.Take an egg carton. Using a pair of scissors and a pot of paint, turn
it into an alligator.
2. Now take the tube from a roll of toilet paper. Using only scotch tape
and a piece of foil, turn it into an attractive Christmas candle.
3. Last, take a milk carton, a ping-pong ball, and an empty packet of
Cocoa Puffs. Make an exact replica of the Eiffel Tower.

Lesson 7
Forget the BMW and buy a station wagon. And don’t think you can leave
it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don’t look
like that.
1. Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment.
Leave it there.
2. Get a dime. Stick it in the tape or CD player.
3. Take a family size package of chocolate cookies. Mash them into the
back seat.
4. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car. There. Perfect.

Lesson 8
Get ready to go out.
1. Wait outside the bathroom for a half an hour.
2. Go out the front door.
3. Come in again
4. Go out
5. come back in
6. go back out again.
7. Walk down the front walk.
8. Walk back up it.
9. Walk back down it again.
10. Walk very slowly down the road for five minutes, stopping,
inspecting minutely, and asking at least 6 questions about each
cigarette butt, piece of used chewing gum, dirty tissue, and dead insect
along the way.
11. Retrace your steps.
12. Scream that you have had as much as you can stand, until the
neighbors come out and stare at you.
13. Give up and go back into the house.

You are now just about ready to try taking a small child for a walk.

Lesson 9
Go to the local supermarket. Take with you the nearest thing you can
find to a preschool child (a full grown goat is excellent) If you
intend to have more than one child, take more than one goat.
1. buy your week’s groceries without letting the goats out of your
sight.
2. Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys.

Until you can accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.

Lesson 10
1. Make a small hole in the side of a melon and hollow it out.
2. Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side.
3. Now get a bowl of soggy Cheerios and attempt to spoon them into the
swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane.
4. Continue until half the Cheerios are gone.
5. Tip half of the remainder into your lap. The other half just throw
up into the air.
You are now ready to feed a 9-month old baby.

Lesson 11
Learn the names of every character from Sesame Street, Dora the
Explorer, Barney, and Disney. Watch nothing else on TV for five years.

Lesson 12
Make a recording of Fran Drescher saying “mommy” repeatedly. (important:
no more than a four second delay between each “mommy”) An occasional
crescendo to the volume of a supersonic jet is required.

Play this recording in your car everywhere you go for the next five
years.

Lesson 13
Put on your finest work attire. Pick a day in which you have an
important meeting.
1. Take a cup of cream, put in 1 cup of lemon juice, and stir.
2. Dump half of the mixture on your shirt, and saturate a towel with the
other half.
3. Attempt to wipe off your shirt with the towel.
4. Do NOT change. You have no time.
5. Go directly to work.

Lesson 14
Go for a drive! But first…
1. Find one large tomcat and six pitbulls.
2. Borrow a child safety seat and put it in the back seat of your car.
3. Put the pitbulls in the front seat of your car.
4. While holding something fragile, strap the cat into the child seat.
5. Run some errands, removing and replacing the cat at each stop.

You are now ready to run errands with a toddler.

(Thanks to Suki for sharing this with me) 

*****

SHARE A SMILE!

If anything above rekindled a memory, smile or even a belly laugh of your own, please share it with us by replying to this post!  We could all use an extra smile in our day.

*********************

Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old is when we’re kids?  If you’re less than 10 years old, you’re so excited about aging that you think in fractions.

“How old are you?”  “I’m four and a half!”  You’re never thirty-six and a half.  You’re four and a half, going on five!  That’s the key.

You get into your teens, now they can’t hold you back.  You jump to the next number, or even a few ahead.

“How old are you?”  “I’m gonna be 16!”  You could be 13, but hey, you’re gonna be 16!  And then, the greatest day of your life . . you become 21. Even the words sound like a ceremony . . YOU BECOME 21.  YESSSS!!!

But then you turn 30.  Oooohh, what happened there?   Makes you sound like bad milk!  He TURNED; we had to throw him out. There’s no fun now, you’re Just a sour-dumpling.  What’s wrong? What’s changed?

You BECOME 21, you TURN 30, then you’re PUSHING 40.  Whoa! Put on the brakes, it’s all slipping away.  Before you know it, you REACH 50 and your dreams are gone.

But wait!!!  You MAKE it to 60.  You didn’t think you would!

So you BECOME 21, TURN 30, PUSH 40, REACH 50 and MAKE it to 60.

You’ve built up so much speed that you HIT 70!  After that it is a day-by-day thing - you HIT Wednesday!

You get into your 80’s and every day is a complete cycle; you HIT lunch; you TURN 4:30; you REACH bedtime.  And it doesn’t end there.  Into the 90’s, you start going backwards - “I was JUST 92.”

Then a strange thing happens.  If you make it over 100, you become a little kid again.  “I’m 100 and a half!”

May you all make it to a healthy 100 and a half!!

One Last Drive
By Kent Nerburn
A taxi driver picks up a fare
that changes his life.

There was a time in my life twenty years ago when I was driving a cab for a living. It was a cowboy’s life, a gambler’s life, a life for someone who wanted no boss, constant movement, and the thrill of a dice roll every time a new passenger got into the cab.

What I didn’t count on when I took the job was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a rolling confessional. Passengers would climb in, sit behind me in total anonymity, and tell me of their lives.

I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and made me weep. And none of those lives touched me more than that of a woman I picked up late on a warm August night.

I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partiers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a someone going off to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at the address, the building was dark except for a single light in a ground-floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a short minute, then drive away. Too many bad possibilities awaited a drive who went up to a darkened building at 2:30 in the morning.

But I had seen too many people trapped in a life of poverty who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation had a real whiff of danger, I always went to the door to find the passenger.

It might, I reasoned, be someone who needs my assistance. Would I not want a driver to do the same if my mother or father had called for a cab? So I walked to the door and knocked.

“Just a minute,” answered a frail and elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman somewhere in her 80s stood before me.

She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like you might see in a costume shop or a Goodwill store or in a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The sound had been her dragging it across the floor.

The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm, and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

“It’s nothing,” I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.”

“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, “Could you drive through downtown?”

“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.” I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening. “I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.”

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to go?” I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they had first been married.

She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she would have me slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.” We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. “How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You have to make a living,” she answered.

“There are other passengers,” I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held on to me tightly. “You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”

There was nothing more to say. I squeezed her hand once, then walked out into the dim morning light. Behind me, I could hear the door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I did not pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the remainder of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?

What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? How many other moments like that had I missed or failed to grasp? What if I had been in a foul mood and had refused to engage the woman in conversation?

We are so conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unawares.

When that woman hugged me and said that I had brought her a moment of joy, it was possible to believe that I had been placed on earth for the sole purpose of providing her with that last ride.

I do not think that I have ever done anything in my life that was any more important.
——————————————————————————–

This essay appears in Kent Nerburn’s book
Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace: Living in the Spirit of the Prayer of Saint Francis (HarperSanFrancisco Publishers).

Visit the author’s website at www.kentnerburn.com

A little while ago I was teaching my Wednesday night teleclass when I had a faint smell of smoke.  But something didn’t seem right - it was too late for my wife to have lit the fireplace and I didnt have any candles lit in my office.  So I walked upstairs with my headset on to see what was going on.  But the Living Room was empty, she was already upstairs in bed. So I went back downstairs and continued teaching.

About 5 minutes later, my wife came running downstairs telling me that there was a fire outside. So I ran upstairs again and this time looked out the back window to see a big orange glow with big flames shooting into the sky, engulfing my neighbor’s detached garage, about 5 feet from our shared fence, the wooden play set and unknowingly close to their propane tank.  Any second that fire could catch the fence and playset, hit the trees and shoot over to our house.

You wonder what you would do in a situation like that.  When a bear is approaching your tent, when a few tough guys are approaching you in the street, when there’s a big fire outside that is close to catching your house…

Will you run or freeze, paralyzed?  Will you scream or remain frozen and silent?  Will you panic and lose it? 

What we did was, I hung up with my class and got the kids up while my wife called 911 and then the neighbors (who didn’t even know they had a fire – another scary thought!)  I grabbed my cell phone and my car keys because they were right there, picked up my kids and shuttled them right into the car with my wife close behind.  I did have a moment where I thought about what else I needed to take - what did I want to ’save.’  But that passed very quickly as I realized that at that moment, nothing else even came close to mattering.

Anyway, we all jumped in the car and drove to the end of the driveway and waited in case we had to make a run for it. But by then the fire trucks had arrived and within a few minutes the fire was out.  We live only 2 blocks from the firehouse so they were there like lightning.  But I will never forget that big orange glow and the flames. It was surreal.

My kids (6 and 4) were still wailing and terrified for a while but all has returned to order and I am going to go upstairs, kiss the kids one more time and then have myself a big glass of Scotch.

Lessons learned:

• Firefighters and police officers are awesome! Yes, there are exceptions, but when it comes to helping people in times of crisis, there are true heros.
• Always check to make sure cigarettes, ashes, anything else that was once alit, is really and truly out.
• Listen to yor instincts - I knew something seemed odd about smelling smoke but because I was busy, I quickly dismissed it as someone else’s fireplace. 
• When it comes down to it, loved ones are all you need. 

As my gram says, ‘never cry over the stuff that can be replaced!’  In those scary, chaotic moments, it was never more clear.

That is what the owner of Barbaro, the Kentucky Derby champion racehorse, said yesterday when they had to end his pain after he succumbed to his ailments.

I’m not much of a horse racing follower although I do love to ride for fun.  You don’t appreciate the magnificence and power of these creatures until you are either standing right next to one or mounted atop a saddle.  All of the sudden, it is easy for you to feel so small…

I have been following the Barbaro story for the last 9 months since he broke his leg at the start of the Preakness.  He was heavily favored and they were sure they had the first Triple Crown winner since 1978 but those dreams ended shortly after the gates opened on that May day.

What really got me hooked on this story was more than the sports drama.  It was the jockey Edgar Prado.

I remember reading the story back in May and I was blown away by what Prado said immediately after the race and after Barbaro was taken off the track in an ambulance.  He said that he didnt know Barbaro broke his leg at first (imagine the concentration the jockey must have had with the enormous expectations upon his shoulders - he was riding the next Triple Crown winner, the horse was heavily favored, and it was up to him to keep the legacy going) but he could feel that something was wrong. 

The horse wasn’t running normally and the first thing that came into Prado’s mind was that he had to slow him down to see what was wrong.  He said that he wasn’t thinking about the winner’s purse, he wasn’t thinking about the glory, and he wasn’t thinking about the success and fame he would achieve with the win.  He just knew something was wrong with his friend and his highest priority was taking care of his beloved horse. 

Unbeknownst (did I spell that right?) to him at the time, had he kept running him, the horse would have had to be put down right there on the track.  But the newspapers made it clear that his instant reaction, driven by love and not glory, had saved his friend’s life, at least until yesterday.

I remember reading this story back then and being so touched by it. 
This was a man who had his priorities clear. 

And so, Prado enabled this beautiful creature to live for another 9 months.  You may think that doesn’t matter much  (what’s another 9 months?) but if someone you loved could either die today or live another 9 months (without living as an invalid or in constant pain) which would you choose?  When it comes to love, 9 months certainly counts.  It’s enough time to create a new human being! And, after all, all we really have is precious time here on earth. How can we discount any of it?

Put yourself in Prado’s shoes for a moment.  You’re running in the Preakness with millions of people not only watching, but expecting you to win! All eyes are on you.  You have a wonderful partner you’re riding and the two of you are seamless together.  When you cross that finish line, as you expect to do, you will be hailed as a great jockey and will earn millions of dollars for you and the owners who have trusted you as the sole person in the world to carry this torch.

But then, something doesn’t feel right although you’re not sure what’s wrong. You can’t see anything (it was his hind leg) but you’re slowing down a little.  Is the horse ok?  You dont know but if you are wrong, your career and reputation will be ruined forever.  You will be known as one of the biggest sports chokes of all time. 

What do you do…? 

**************

One of the initial exercises I like to do with my new coaching clients is help them get clear on their own values and priorities. Here are a few questions to consider:

• Name 3 people you admire - what qualities do they have that you either have, are working on or wish you had?  These are good clues into what your core values are.  For example, a few of the qualities I admire are generosity, self-expression and courage.
• What are your personal guiding principles for how you want to live your life?  Is there a mantra or quote you use to keep yourself  centered and grounded?
• What are your boundaries and do you honor them?  This comes up a lot for professionals trying to balance overloaded work demands with family and personal time.  It is not an easy balance, but defining and honoring specific (but flexible) boundaries makes it possible.

For more questions to consider, click here to check out my free Audio Course “7 Steps for Designing and Living an Extraordinary Life.”  I think you’ll find it useful.

I will be bringing these coaching programs to the NYC area later this year (we tried to have one next month but it was too soon after the holidays) so stay tuned.  If you are interested in learning more now, feel free to visit their site listed above. They have programs going on in San Diego as well as teleclasses going on constantly. 

Anyway, here is an email I just received from one of my students (thanks Marjan) and I thought it would be good to share with you.  Let me know if you like it:

************ 

 Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, “Mother, you must come to see the daffodils before they are over.” I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead “I will come next Tuesday”, I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.

Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren.

“Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another inch!”

My daughter smiled calmly and said, “We drive in this all the time, Mother.” “Well, you won’t get me back on the road until it clears, and then I’m heading for home!” I assured her. “But first we’re going to see the daffodils. It’s just a few blocks,” Carolyn said. “I’ll drive. I’m used to this.”

“Carolyn,” I said sternly, “Please turn around.” “It’s all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience.”

After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign with an arrow that read, “Daffodil Garden.” We got out of the car, each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.

It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, and saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

“Who did this?” I asked Carolyn. “Just one woman,” Carolyn answered. “She lives on the property. That’s her home.” Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

On the patio, we saw a poster. “Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking”, was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. “50,000 bulbs,” it read. The second answer was, “One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one brain.” The third answer was, “Began in 1958.”

For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration.
That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time–often just one baby-step at time–and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world…

“It makes me sad in a way,” I admitted to Carolyn. “What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it ‘one bulb at a time’ through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!”
My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. “Start tomorrow,” she said.

She was right. It’s so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, “How can I put this to use today?”

Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting…..

Until your car or home is paid off
Until you get a new car or home
Until your kids leave the house
Until you go back to school
Until you finish school
Until you clean the house
Until you organize the garage
Until you clean off your desk
Until you lose 10 lbs.
Until you gain 10 lbs.
Until you get married
Until you get a divorce
Until you have kids
Until the kids go to school
Until you retire
Until summer
Until spring
Until winter
Until fall
Until you die…

There is no better time than right now to be happy. Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

So work like you don’t need money. Love like you’ve never been hurt, and, Dance like no one’s watching.

Don’t be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.

My daughter was nervous about going because she was afraid that everyone else would be better skaters and wouldn’t skate with her so she’d be left alone (you know moms and dads don’t count in these situations.) But we told her to do her best and all the other encouraging things that parents say to 6 year olds to get them to try things.

When they came home, I asked my daughter how it was and she said it was GREAT! I asked her how she did and if the others skated with her and she gave an emphatic YES! She explained that  after she fell down a few times, she started to get better and, by the end, she was skating faster than a lot of the other kids. I gave her a big hug.

I asked her how her mommy did and she laughed. She said that ‘mommy skated so funny!’ When I asked her why she replied, (deep breath) “because she was afraid to fall down, so mommy skated the whole time trying not to fall down, and I told her, ‘Mommy, just fall down! It doesn’t hurt’ but mommy didnt want to fall down so she kept skating really funny and looked all bent over like this, and I was skating so much faster than her and…” (whew) You get the point. She can talk , that little one.

Anyway, through the shared belly laughs, the wisdom of what she said hit me right away.  Mommy was skating to not fall down.  My daughter was initially afraid, so she didnt want to even try it.  But with help from her support system (i.e. Us at first and then her friends), once she got there and got on the ice, she let it rip.  My wife was a little nervous at first too for different reasons.  However, she didn’t get over that hump because she didn’t go for it, preferring to stay bunched up in a defensive position, slightly hunched forward, like a new deer learning how to walk.  By the end, my daughter was skating circles around her.  Safety aside, there’s a lesson in there.

Therefore, in looking at my own crazy fears and life, I have decided to make this the year that I fall down…a lot! All the things I’ve been afraid to try - the new programs I want to create and lead, the bigger game I want to play, etc. I have been afraid to make mistakes or look foolish or be judged incompetent, etc.  I’ve been skating not to fall down.

So this is the year to really get on the path. I will keep getting up however, no matter how sore my rear end gets.  As the saying goes, the key to life is falling down 7 times but getting up 8.  And so I will. 

Of course I’ll wear my helmet - it’s not about being reckless.

But if I’m fortunate to have good health and energy, strong support around me, my sense of humor, and a little luck, I may just end the year being as wise as my 6 year old daughter.

Happy New Year!

- BTW: For a slightly different perspective on this, see this month’s newsletter at http://www.jaffelifedesign.com/the-wakeup-call-newsletter.htm 

Speak with you soon

-mj

Don’t forget to share with us all the ways you intend to fall down on your butt this year! Reply to this blog and let us know!

Please have a fun and safe New Year!
mj

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The Best New Year’s Resolutions You Can Make Resolve to stay brutally optimistic. See the opportunity in every difficulty and anticipate the most favorable outcome out of every situation. Whatever you look for, that’s what you’ll find. We can get better or we can get bitter; it all depends on the lessons we draw from each experience. Optimism is like electricity — very little happens without it. Know this truth: you have all the resources you’ll ever need to handle all the challenges you’ll ever have. In true emergencies the true you will emerge. (see Mike’s blog “Surviving Our Storms” for his perspective on this)

Resolve to pump-up your personal vitality. In the game of life, it’s not about who’s right, it’s about who’s left. Over 60 percent of us are more than 36 years old. The real currency of the new century is not cash. It’s vitality. It’s the ability to keep going every day of every week of every month of the year with vigor and verve. All you are to the people around you is a source of energy, and you cannot give what you don’t have. Ninety percent of all adults do no physical exercise at all. More than half of us are overweight. A third of us still smoke. So, this year, resolve to enhance your physical, emotional and mental vitality. Take just a small step. First you’ll amaze yourself, and then you’ll amaze everybody else.

Resolve to go on a mental diet. Sticks and stones can break your bones, but words can scar you for life. It is humans, not elephants, who never forget. So resolve to use the language of conciliation, not the language of confrontation. Avoid the temptation to vent your negativity on others. Instead, use words that express your joie de vivre and connection with others.

Resolve to take control of your destiny. Don’t be so busy trying to make a living that you forget to make a life. Decide who you want to be and what you want to achieve and then stride boldly toward your vision. The most precious human commodity today is confidence.

Resolve to increase your creativity by letting go of the familiar. Nothing is as far away as yesterday. Try to see the world through fresh eyes every day. As Salman Rushdie writes, every year is the Stone Age to the year that follows it. Listen to your intuition and follow your instincts, they’ll tell you what to do before your head has had a chance to figure it out. You are a Picasso or Einstein at something. Discover what it is and then develop it to the maximum.

Resolve to be you because others are already taken. You and I are at our best when we’re being authentic. We’re at our best when we’re being positively spontaneous, because that’s when all our energy is being invested in the task at hand or with the person in front of us. In a hyper-competitive world, we cannot afford to second-guess ourselves. Success in the new century is all about speed. So act now, because if not now, when?