Stop the Lie of Can't!

Ask a room of kindergartners who among them can sing, and all their hands shoot up.  They sing everyday, of course they can sing. 

Ask the same kids when they hit 3^rd grade and fewer hands go up.  Ask them when they hit 6^th or 7^th grade and 1-2 hands may rise.  Then ask them to sing Happy Birthday, and like magic, they all CAN sing. 

Can I do something has been translated into Do I think I am good enough.

Does this sounds familiar to any of you?  It sure rings true for me.  If you had asked me in middle or high school if I could paint or make art, NO would have been my answer.  Because I decided that art wasn’t something I was good at, I also decided that I couldn’t do it.

But I could paint—no one needed to teach me how to dip a brush in paint and touch it to a canvas.  Heck, even elephants can paint—check them out on you tube: https://youtu.be/owSZs7H24UY.

When we decide we are not good enough at something, we stop doing it or don’t even try. We limit ourselves. When we decide we are not worthy—of attention, respect, love, or effort—we play small and make excuses. 

Why does this matter?  What difference would it make if I never picked up a paintbrush, or took a stone carving class?  What if I played safe my whole life and never tried something I might fail at or not “like?”  Who would care?

I would. I would be living a small, limited life. I certainly wouldn’t be writing this. I wouldn’t have changed careers a couple times, started two businesses, traveled the world, lead non-profit boards and chaplain teams, or found out that I’m actually pretty good at making art—with a camera, paintbrush and carving tools.

I don’t believe that we are meant to live small, unadventurous, limited lives.  I believe that we all have gifts and ideas and stories inside us that will inspire others and change the world for the better if we choose to step outside our comfort zones and share them.  Outside our comfort zone is where the magic happens.

What have you decided that you “can’t” do?  Is it to learn a new technology, travel solo, speak in public, write a book or poem, learn to ski, or to ask for a raise?  I hear all the time—I don’t cook, I don’t dance, I don’t go to Queens, or I don’t do math. 

What if you could?  What if you did?  How much bigger would your world be?  How many more options and adventures could you have?

My challenge for you is to “Just do it.”  Do one thing, something new, different, and definitely outside your comfort zone. Do something that you have decided that you can’t or don’t do.  Choose to picture a great outcome.  Choose that perfectly imperfect is the best result.

Start saying that you can, or you will, or you can learn.  Because you can, and the world needs your unique light to shine bright!

I know you can!

Be well--Carol

Summer Vacation: Lesson 2—Climbing Mountains

  So, lesson two from my summer vacation puts me on the north side of Kauai at the end of the road. Really, the road on the north side going west ends at Ke’e Beach. Ke’e is my favorite beach on the island.  It has lots of sand and shade, you can walk a long distance, chickens roam the sand, you can see turtles and monk seals, or just sit in the calm waters.  There are even facilities and a lifeguard and sometimes a guy selling ice-cold coconuts in the parking lot.

What is also at Ke’e, is the trailhead of the Kalalau Trail, or the Na Pali coast hike. If you have seen Jurassic Park, South Pacific, Six Days/Seven Nights, King Kong with Jessica Lange, Pirates of the Caribbean—you have seen the Na Pali coast.  It is only accessible by water, helicopter or hiking.

I have visited Kauai six times, and every time I say that I will hike part of the Na Pali coast. Never have. Why? Lazy, yes--but that’s too simplistic. My lazy is deeply rooted in a lifetime of viewing myself as the overweight kid who was last in any laps running during PE or countless team practices.  I was embarrassed by my body—the suit of armor I carried to protect myself from dealing with my emotions or my sexuality. My lazy was intertwined with my not wanting to fail, look bad, be made fun of, or be fully seen. My form of lazy led me to gain weight in the run-up to my wedding—to really make sure I would still be wanted or loved—more armor, more padding so I wouldn’t get hurt so much by the rejection. If I don’t try—no glory, no reward, but I also get to stay safe. Existing, not thriving.

So, about this hike.  This year was the year to try. So, bolstered by my traveling companions and the promise of amazing views—up we start. We know that at ¼ mile is the first lookout and at ½ mile is the view of the entire coastline.  Easy, right? Ten minute walk on the streets of NYC.  We are not in NYC! This trail is straight up the side of a mountain—loose rock, big fall away, waterfalls create slippery/slimy little hazards to maneuver. Big fun!! We are passed by younger hikers—and trail runners--but on we push. 

We made the first ¼ mile in about 20 minutes. Panting, happy to stop for photo ops, not dead yet and not embarrassed yet. Hopeful even.  At this point, two of our party who had chosen flip-flops as hiking gear decide to return down the mountain.  I had an out.  I didn’t have to go on.  What to do?

Apparently, I have a moment with God. A voice in my head said loud and clear: “You are the youngest one in this group. Why do you keep treating yourself less than? You can do this. You are stronger and more agile than you know. Move up the mountain.” So I did. I maneuvered boulders, on-coming tourists and 20-mile per hour wind gusts to stand at the ½ mile marker and see the Na Pali coast and the Northern coastline from way up on a cliff. My legs were tired, but I did it. No confetti or parades—but I did my own little internal happy dance.

We weren’t done yet. After 45 minutes up, it was back down the trail.  And for me, down was a lot easier. I work better with gravity than against it. I actually bounded down the mountain—faster was working for me. Yes, my legs were sore the next day, but I not only survived, I got the photos to prove it.

My lessons—let go of old stories that are not supporting my thriving.  No risk means no reward.  I now want to get out of my comfort zone more—see what else I can do or become.  I want to start pushing my physical limits as much as my career, intellectual and creative edges.  What can I do if I weren’t concerned about how others might see me, what they might think?

How cool would that be?  I’ll let you know.