Your Hidden Treasure


Once upon a time a baby girl was born to loving parents. On the day of her birth they gave her a beautiful box, a treasured gift. By her second birthday, the loving parents had died and the little girl was living with her aunt.

Now, Auntie was a mean-spirited, angry and bitter old woman. As the girl grew into a lovely young woman, Auntie would remind her, “You’re no better than anyone else”, and “Don’t get too big for your britches”, and, more painfully, “You are as ugly as your mother”, for Auntie had doted on the girl’s father and ignorantly blamed the girl’s mother for his death.

So, the girl grew up believing that she was, indeed, unattractive, and hid herself behind unfashionable and unflattering clothes.

At school, the girl worked hard and excelled at her studies. In fifth grade, jealous and deceitful Teacher took her aside and said, “You’re not as smart as you think you are — you’re just lucky. Once your luck fades, you will fail.” The girl did not know that luck was more important than hard work. Auntie had never told her that. She began to worry more about her luck running out than her studies, and soon her grades began to fall. “Teacher was right,” she thought. “I am not smart. Auntie is right, too. Who do I think I am, anyway?”

The girl struggled to finish her schooling and began to look for a job. Auntie said, “Don’t aim too high, you’ll be disappointed,” so the girl took a job cleaning offices. It was difficult, dirty, boring work, but the girl believed she was not smart enough to do anything else. Hadn’t Teacher said? Hadn’t Auntie said?

Every day she rode the bus to work. One day Nice Man started a conversation with the girl. She liked how his eyes twinkled. He had a kind face. He was a happy fellow. He asked her to go with him for a cup of coffee. Now, the girl had never been on a date with a boy before because Auntie had told her that all men, save her dead father, were useless bullies. “Men are interested in only one thing,” Auntie would say. “And once they get it, they dump you in a hot second.” The girl did not know what to do — this man seemed nice. But he might be fooling her.

She did not trust her own instincts. Auntie had been right about so many things — perhaps she was right about men and relationships. So with a sad shake of the head she said no to the coffee, and from that day on did not talk to any men.

Ten years later the girl was numb, living the same kind of small, safe life Auntie led. She was old before her time. That spring, Auntie died. The girl did not know what to do. She had looked to Auntie for so much. How could an old, ugly, stupid cleaning lady make it in the world, all alone?

As she cleaned the small house she shared with Auntie, she found the beautiful box her parents had given her on the day of her birth. She did not know what it was as spiteful Auntie had hidden the treasure away. The girl gently lifted the lid and a small piece of paper fluttered to her feet.

She opened it. It was from her parents. It said, “You are the treasure. May you live a life worthy of all of your gifts.” Inside the box was an intricately engraved silver mirror. The girl took the beautiful, cool metal in her hands and held it up to her face.

With a blinding flash, the girl saw what her parents had seen in her even as a baby. She saw clearly into her own heart and she was astonished. Rather than the ugly woman she had thought herself for so many years, suddenly she saw a lovely young woman. Was that her? Was she really that pretty?

In a moment, her limiting thoughts about herself fell away. She was beautiful, for she could see that clearly with her parents’ gift. She was able to love, for she had loved even unlovable Auntie. And she was smart, because she had figured out these things about herself.

And she knew, too, that all of those things had been inside her, hidden her whole life, because that’s how others had wanted it to be. She had been made to act small so that others could feel big. She straightened her spine at that thought, and vowed to never again allow herself to be framed by what others thought about her.

The next day the girl sold Auntie’s house, quit her job, enrolled in college and began her life anew, knowing that her greatest treasure was within her. It always had been there, and always would be.

Moral of the story: To live fully, you must live without limits — whether imposed by yourself or imposed by others. Everything you need to be your best self is already within you. That is your greatest treasure.

Life Is An Experiment


It has been brought to my attention that “deciding” is a subject that needs discussion. Deciding — making a choice or a judgment about something — can carry such overwhelming heavy freight that it seems so much easier to decide…not to decide.

Not doing anything, though, can prolong pain, suffering and unhappiness. In not deciding, friends, you stay firmly stuck.

So how do you make good decisions?

First, allow yourself this idea: Life Is An Experiment. When you’re stuck, viewing yourself as a scientist who applies the scientific method to her hypotheses can give you a little room in which to move.

In the scientific method, you first make an observation and generate a hypothesis about what you observe. Then you come up with a predictable, rigorous way to challenge the hypothesis and you test it. If the data you collect in the test doesn’t support the original hypothesis, you get to change your underlying thought — and maybe move out of stuck.

Here’s an example: A 14 year old guy at his first high school dance has this tightly held belief that no girl would possibly dance with him. He’s never actually asked anyone to dance, mind you, but jumped right to a hypothesis, based on narrow observations of himself as a guy who is a little too skinny, or too fat, or too pimply, or too dorky. He thinks he’s not quite right in so many ways, so he assumes all girls share his observations (many of us make this leap, so let’s not be too hard on the lad).

Now, to test the hypothesis that no girl will dance with him: what can he do?

Why, he can ask a girl to dance.

My simple guideline is to test the hypothesis three times. So our young man needs to ask three girls to dance.

In his mind, as a scientist, he’s not opening himself to three bouts of rejection. No, sirree. He’s merely collecting three data points. Doesn’t that feel easier?

If one girl says “yes”, and one girl says “no”, then his results are inconclusive. It’s when he asks the third girl that his hypothesis is either proved or disproved.

But either way, look at what happened: he actually asked someone to dance. Regardless of whether Girl #3 dances or sits like a lump on a folding chair in the corner, our young man has actually put himself out there and done something he previously considered impossible. Just one girl saying “yes” tells him what’s possible.

When you face an obstacle in your own life and your hypothesis is something like “this will never work”, try the scientific method. Observe. Make a hypothesis. Construct a challenging test of your theory. Test it. Look at the results and change your theory if you need to.

When you view life as an experiment in which you simply collect data points, there is very little that needs to be perfect. You are just conducting tests that provide you with information you need to go forward.

Think of the hypotheses that may govern your life: “I can’t lose weight”, or “No one would hire me”, or “I’m too old to find a new job”, “I can’t tell my mother how I really feel” — and apply the scientific method.

Perhaps in the testing of your hypothesis you will find that the data don’t truly support your thinking. It’s simply your thinking that needs to change.

And then you’ll be unstuck.

I Am, I Said


It’s nice to have friends. It’s especially nice to have friends like Lauri and Anne — the kind of friends who drop by for tea and bring great ideas. Oh, and cookies. We cannot overlook the importance of cookies.

We sat the other day, sipping, munching thoughtfully, until Anne piped up with: “OK, so we were talking about something in the car on the way over and wanted to hear what you think.”

I was actually thinking that the cookies were really good. But I’m often able to stretch my brain just a bit. “Uhmrrgh,” I responded, through cookie crumbles, which means, “Bring it on.”

“Ever notice how often we say ‘I’m not’ and how infrequently we say ‘I am’?” Anne asked.

I was struck speechless by the simplicity of Anne’s point.

Boy, we spend so much time thinking about what we’re not.

Coming from “I’m not” is coming from a lack, or a deficit. “I’m not” means not enough — not tall enough, not thin enough, not young enough, not rich enough, not smart enough, not anything enough.

“I’m not” keeps us in a continual state of stress, feeling like we haven’t/can’t/won’t get it all done. And we won’t. Because we’re not enough.

But if we could shift all those “I’m nots” to “I ams”… think of the difference. Owning your own strengths. Standing in your own power. Relying on what you’ve got, rather than what you haven’t.

“I am”… good at taking care of my aging parents. “I am” … a good mentor. “I am” … a good friend. “I am” … alive.

Recently I taught a teleclass to a group of students and heard myself saying, “I’m pretty good at networking.” And I caught myself, internally, doing a self-check: was I bragging? Didn’t Mama say, “Don’t get too big for your britches. You’re no better than anyone else?”

She sure did. But it didn’t feel like bragging. It felt like truth. And, guess what? It is.

Make a list of your “I ams”. Own your “I ams”. Treasure them. They’re your truths. They’re what makes you, you.

And every time you find yourself stuck in “I’m not”, turn it around and say a quick “I am”. Such as, “OK, I’m not a 25 year old supermodel with more money than sense and no responsibilities, but I am…

Go ahead — fill in your own blank.

In-box Management



Like most folks, I have a couple of different email in-boxes. One’s more for work, one’s more for fun, and one seems to be the catchall for hundreds of spam messages. That’s right, hundreds — every day.

I get messages for products — how do I put this delicately — to enhance the size and prowess of a particular body part that’s not a standard equipment on the female form. From these messages, I have learned that this particular body part requires quite a lot tending, in terms of medication, cremes, patches and powders. I had no idea. Always seemed rather straightforward to me: Stimulus. Response. Done.

Oh, and I get many touching messages from lonely young women who’d like to show me their pictures, dear things.

I had no idea that I had so many kinsmen who die in Africa, Latin America and China, leaving immense fortunes which can be mine if I cooperate with certain widowed wives of former dignitaries of said nations.

People write daily to sell me OEM software, whatever that is, and “genuine replica watches”. Let’s see, it’s “genuine” and “replica” — sounds surprisingly like “fake”.

The other day I received a message from the unfortunately named “Cosimo Kiang”, who wanted to give me $500, just for clicking a button. Where do they manufacture these names, anyway? Throwing darts at a phone book?

Every couple of days, I scan through these messages looking for an authentic message from a real person asking me a real question. This trolling and culling takes too much of my time, and I always worry that I’ve overlooked or deleted something of real importance.

I hate spam. It sucks my time and attention and gets me all distracted and fidgety.

But you know what? The deluge of stupid, time-wasting, ridiculous messages is not restricted to my email in-box. Nope, I get plenty of spam addressed to one other mailbox I sort through regularly — the in-box between my ears.

You know these kinds of spam messages: Be thinner. Be younger. Be older. Be smoother. Be tougher. Be gentler. Be taller. Be sexier. Be buff. Be wealthy. Be #1. Be as self-sacrificing as Mother Teresa.

In short: Be something other than what you are.

The spam between my ears doesn’t help me live my best possible life. It clogs me up, paralyzes me, helps me feel inadequate and unsuccessful. So, I’ve taken to sorting through and culling those messages, too. The good news is that I’ve finally arrived at the place where I receive the message, decide whether it’s something to pay attention to or not, then click that old delete button.

So satisfying.

If you have a ton of spam in the in-box between your ears, maybe it’s time to do a major purge. Better yet, set some filters so the most annoying, time consuming, distracting messages go to the trash before you ever see them!

The best messages are those that lift you up, reinforce the best part of you, remind you what makes you uniquely wonderful, prompt you to live authentically, and allow you to change that which holds you back.

The rest? A spam-like waste of time.

Lose Weight, Find Love, De-Clutter And Save Money


Spend an afternoon with the cable remote in your hand and you could come away with the idea that most people in the world are heavier than is healthy, have messy houses, lackluster love lives, and can’t save a nickel.

I invested in some couch time the other day (in my on-going effort to perfect The Art of Being Lazy, of course), and was astounded by the number of TV shows about dealing with either too much (like possessions and food) or too little (love, fashion sense). And the one sad common thread among the folks on these shows was their overwhelming feeling of lack and their resulting self-punishing behaviors.

It comes down to this: when we feel powerless, we look to behaviors which allow us to grab onto a little bit of power. If I feel denied love, I am sure-as-shootin’ not going to deny myself the cheesecake.

And after I eat the whole cheesecake in one sitting, I feel horrible about myself, decide I’m never going to have a boyfriend and get out of this hellhole of a life, so I turn to the chocolate ice cream in the freezer.

This cycle repeats, spinning down into a not very nice place to be. It’s a place of powerlessness.

But there’s good news. Turning powerlessness into power is a simple matter of shifting our thoughts. It’s going from feeding yourself in an attempt to fill a gap, to feeding yourself out of self-respect and self-love.

It’s “I can choose to eat anything, so I am choosing food which tastes good, is good for me and nurtures me.”

Baby, that’s power.

Power is also saying “I can have any old partner in a New York minute, but to have a partner who respects me and loves me, I have to love and respect myself first.” Many of us get involved with unsuitable people because of the thought “Anybody’s better than nobody.” Anybody, because we maybe chose him out of panic, may be someone who affirms our inner sense of lack, rather than our inner strength. Where’s the power in that?

When you chose a partner out of self-respect, you will have a partner worth having. When you spend your money out of self-respect, you will not overspend. When you live with things that reflect your self-respect, your clutter diminishes. When you feed yourself with an eye to nurturing that which is best in you, you will eat healthily.

You have the power to take care of yourself, and eliminate that which holds you back from your best life. You have the power — use it.