There’s been something I’m feeling deep inside my heart today that I need to get out. I’m speaking to you not as a coach, author, publisher, or even as a man. I need to speak to you today as a grown-up little boy.
I THINK it was in Mrs. Moody’s fifth-grade classroom but I can’t remember for certain. I remember the canary yellow walls with the painted brick and a line of cubbies where we can keep our stuff like lunchboxes and jackets.
One afternoon I remember looking for my lunchbox. And I couldn’t find it. It wasn’t where I remember leaving it. And I was getting quite frustrated. The class had already gone to the cafeteria and I was alone and unsupervised.
It should be noted that I was alone in her classroom and completely unsupervised.
“Were you talking to yourself?” I look over my shoulder and unbeknownst to me was my fifth-grade tormenter. I won’t use his name, but I will call him M. You may remember M from the Bama Theatre story I shared in “Mining For My Voice.” Same guy with the rat tail hair.
Over the next hour, he would not let up. He was relentless and brutal with his attacks.
He would not shut up about my talking to myself.
Now, I can see that all M’s attacks were based on his insecurities, but at the time I thought he simply hated me.
From this point forward, on the rare occasion, I’d talk out loud to myself, it was usually in the context of “you f***ing idiot. Why did you say that? Who do you think you are?”
I have become a giant, unapologetic bully to myself.
And lord have mercy, it’s gotten out of control. This bully has grown, festered, and gotten out of control.
And. I. Am. DONE!
I remember many years ago when I started to first experiment with facial hair. I resisted wearing a beard and I finally relented.
The first time I tried to trim my beard, I fouled it up. And oh did I lay into myself! Jeez! I don’t want to repeat the things I said to myself. Perhaps if I ever wrote a horror book, maybe I’ll go back there.
I had no practice at this. I’d never done it before.
And I was judging myself against a barber with 30 years of experience. Or a Dad who wore a beard his entire adult life!
Y’all know how much I love Derek Trucks. He’s my favorite musician on the planet right now. He’s been one of the baddest guitarists in the world since he was in 5th grade. But in the 30+ years since then, he’s constantly been practicing and performing and recording. And he’s gone from that hot shot slide guitar player occasionally sitting in with Uncle Butch and the Allman Brothers band, to the master of the electric guitar that he is today.
Is Stephen King the same author today that he was when he was a kid? He’s been publishing books for close to 50 years! His writing has evolved since then. He’s practiced a lot!
Even me! I guarantee you I’m a different writer today and a better writer today since I wrote: “Written In The Stone”.
My point is that when I keep practicing new ways of being, I evolve, shift, and grow. And I uncover more of who I am.
This summer is challenging every bit of this. I’m attempting to do things in my job search and especially in my business that completely obliterate my comfort zone. As I remarked to a friend the other day, it’s like someone unzipped their pants and took a giant dump on my comfort zone.
This may get ugly. Things may get weird. And this scares the hell out of me!
But to create a life you have never had, you must do things you’ve never done.
And practice!
