What Can You Do?

I was at a housewarming party recently and at the gathering I listened to a friend of mine talking with a younger kid.  The younger person was trying to work out a puzzle game.  You know —those metal ones that are basically impossible to get the pieces apart.

My friend shared his wisdom with the younger person after asking him if he wanted a hint. 

This is what he shared: “Most people see these puzzles, try it for a minute and then decide, ‘it’s impossible to get these apart.’  And it is.  Instead, focus on what you can do.  When you look at the pieces, what can you do with them?”  In about 30 seconds the kid had the two pieces separated.  I was pretty moved by witnessing the exchange. 

It isn’t the first time I have heard this message.

Years ago, while at a Network (Chiropractic) seminar, Donald Epstein gave us all a talk on our ‘I-Can’t-ta-tions’.  A play on words from incantations.  He liked to do that.  Play on words.  I remember being pretty inspired at the rap he was offering at that time as well.

What does this have to do with the quality of your relationships?  Perhaps more than you can imagine.  Perhaps almost everything. 

Because we have descended for thousands of years from those who noticed what was wrong, got scared and took action, humans (you and I) are wired to do just that.  We notice what is wrong.  It is called a Negativity Bias.  Which is wonderful for keeping us safe, yet pretty irritating when that habit or instinct runs amuck inside our relationships.  Consistently highlighting and reminding our close friends, partners, colleagues and family members about what we don’t like tends to make those relationships a bit challenging. 

This habit of noticing what’s wrong is also prevalent in the relationship that we have with ourselves.  When we consistently focus on our own ‘flaws’, or limitations, how we don’t measure up, or what we can’t do, our days can get dreary.

I had an opportunity to experience this the very next day. 

I was with Steve and he wanted to take me to a very special place.  I was excited to go.  Until we arrived at a point when I realized that in order to get to the place, I was going to climb up a mountainside.  Instantly, I will filled with dread and fear, thinking that I wouldn’t be able to make it.  My mind locked in on what I couldn’t do, and although Steve was offering me a wide variety of ways that I might be able to do it, the container of enthusiasm and connection was lost.  I was panicked. 

 I was entangled inside my thoughts of what I couldn’t do and what that meant, which made for a less than pleasant ascent.  To be honest, because of my stubborn Aries nature, there was no way I wasn’t going to do it.  Yet, I did it the hard way.  I lost connection to why we were going in the first place —having fun and creating new memories together, discovering and enjoying a sacred place.

 Upon reflection, the moment was an exact metaphor for doing the puzzle.  It saw it, thought it was impossible, so it became more difficult than it needed to be.  That story (which obviously wasn’t true) impacted the quality of my relationship.  Had I focused my attention on what I cold easily do, I would have had less distress, or none at all.  What I could do was climb the mountain slowly, resting if I needed to.  We had no time constraints.  No reason to rush.  We could have held hands, told each other stories, had contests of some sort (Steve and I like to joke around about who is better at whatever).  It could have been fun.

Luckily, our story had a super fun ending.

Once we arrived at the top and were gazing upon a huge (bigger than my house) rock, called Peace Rock —which had a rich history in the area, Steve said to me pointing to our left, “What is that?”  I made two guesses.  1.  Is it a dog?  2.  Is it a hawk?  (I don’t get into the woods much).  It was neither.  Coming through the branches, was an adolescent black bear.  It walked by us.  Like 50 feet away.  A BEAR!!! 

My story about that was that the universe was conspiring on my (our) behalf.  Steve brought me there to share a sacred experience. The bear broke the spell of distress and instantly brought us to excitement and wonder.

Big lesson(s) learned.

1. Focus on what I can do.
2. Exercise more.

These things are easy.