Maybe it was the time change or the endlessly rainy weather, but I woke up yesterday morning with a large chip on my shoulder.
I’m in a certification program for team and systems coaching and facing the me I frequently become when I’m new at something. I believe I know nothing, that the material will never penetrate my thick skull and that I should just drop out and save myself the embarrassment and pain of being kicked out. The scariest part of this me is that there’s something enjoyable about wallowing in the self-pity.
I get scared when there’s stuff I don’t know and don’t know how to find out easily. The classes meet virtually. We do have a LinkedIn page for messages, but not every member of my cohort is reading and responding to my rants at 6am Sunday morning. My questions remain unanswered for hours. A friend of mine used to refer to this as being in ‘the place of not knowing.’ I hate it there!
Fortunately I had some place to go, so I hopped in the car about 8:30am and turned on the radio. The New York City Marathon was about to begin. Forty thousand runners were taking their places on the Verrazano Bridge in Staten Island. The announcer, describing the scene, mentioned that the wheelchair participants would be the first to begin the race. The wheelchair participants!
I got goosebumps all over my body. I began imagining what courage, stamina and persistence it must take to enter the NYC Marathon as a wheelchair athlete. Then I thought, “And I’m getting totally bent out of shape because I can’t wait one day to find out what Dimensions refer to in my coaching work.
Perspective changed. Mood lifted. Thank you, God!