A few weeks ago I sat down next to an older man on a plane
and we began to talk and talk and talk.
He told me about how he loved to dive and hike and travel. He talked to me about his daughter and how
much he loved life. We talked about a
really good book, Deep Survival, I
had read that reminded me of one of the stories he told. It became a memory I will not soon forget. In the conversations we had on the way from
California to Denver, I had told my friend that I’d been a coxswain when I was
in college. He had been telling me a
story about a crew team and couldn’t quite come up with the name of the person
who yelled in the boat, I cheerfully
informed him, “I did that! And the term
is a coxswain.” (I also informed him
that coxswains do a lot more than just yell at a boat full of people J). Further into our conversation I told him that
I’d vehemently quit the sport as a sophomore in college. I painted a picture of the coach I had who
threw things and yelled insults at the girls I coxed for on the team. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I
walked away. I told my friend that I’d
always felt like I’d given up. He ever
so gently encouraged me and helped me to change my perspective by letting me
know that he saw it as me choosing to move forward and leave something that
wasn’t productive for me behind.
I’ve had similar situations transpire and I’ve chalked my
decisions to walk away as giving up and letting people down and not being good
enough and failing. I never took the
time to see that sometimes quitting or letting go or moving on isn’t giving up
or regressing, it is moving forward.
My wonderful, beloved father was really hard on me as a kid. His motto was that if you fell off the horse
to get right back up on and keep on going.
Since I was actually a horse rider this statement was figurative and
literal. I remember falling off the
first time and how hard this lesson was drilled into me. The horse: Muffin, the situation: cantering,
Madison’s disposition: straight up fear, the trainer’s mission: put Madison on
her most feared horse in her most feared situation AND push her…hard. Attempt 1: epic fail. I mean that in EVERY sense of the
phrase. I literally held on until I
couldn’t hold on anymore as the horse cantered out of control and I went side
saddle, THEN I let go, not knowing my foot was caught. I was trampled on (hoof print on my chest;
and yes, I had a bruise in that form) until finally the horse and I came to a
stop and I landed on the ground, flat on my back. AND then….Well, I got back on, of course,
broken pride, bruises and all. I know I
mastered cantering on Muffin eventually, but I’m not sure if it happened that
day. This literal depiction of what it
meant to be pushed and to get right back up and try hard was translated into
every aspect of my life: soccer, school, the medical stuff I went through as a
recovering cancer survivor, and everything else. My Dad did it because he knew it’d help me. He did it out of love. But I think it also contributed to me
thinking that quitting wasn’t an option because it (always) meant that I just wasn't trying hard enough. And quitting
automatically meant I'd failed. In my
Dad’s world, that wasn’t an option. And
I wanted so badly to show him that I wasn’t a quitter or a failure or not good
enough. I carried that with me into
adolescence and adulthood.
My friend on the plane helped me to see things
differently. He helped me to understand
that quitting doesn’t always equivocate to failing. Quitting can sometimes be a more productive choice
in our lives. Quitting also doesn’t
(always) mean I failed my father, or Heavenly Father for that matter, or gave
up or am not good enough. Sometimes,
quitting is okay. Sometimes, quitting is
the better choice.
I had coffee with a friend yesterday morning and I shared a
part of my story with him about the man I had met on the plane ride to
Denver. He commented about how I was
actually a “champ” for the choice I had made in quitting the crew team. He also said that in some sense the girls who
didn’t quit the team and I myself had essentially gone through the same process of trying
to recognize our worth. I’d trapped
myself in my brain thinking my quitting had equivocated to not being good
enough, while these girls stayed on the team and endured hateful words and
accusations that they weren’t good enough.
The difference, however, is that I’d protected myself from letting someone
else label me that way; I just needed to (and need to now) stop beating myself
up and recognize my own worth.
I think we all need to learn to see from different
perspectives. However, we can’t do that
by simply being inside of ourselves. It’s
important to get out there and share ourselves with other people, to open our hearts and reveal the depths of our souls (scary, I know!). It’s also important to take the time to
listen to what others have to say. We
have a lot to learn and a lot to teach each other. So, people, go try it out! Next time you’re in line at the coffee shop
and the cute guy in line behind you is loving up on your super handsome (gets
all the attention) dog, ask him how his day's been and what he’s been up to OR
comment on his super cool bag pack. You might
just learn something about pilot licensing!
Or your friend on the plane will give you some super awesome advice
about seeing the world differently.
Might I also suggest these two books: Daring Greatly by Brene Brown and If you Feel Too Much by Jamie Tworkowski. Live it, love it, laugh, cry, hurt,
celebrate, and experience <3 It's worth the trip, even with the hard falls ;P
