Raising courageous, confident kids is hard. It’s the hardest work we will ever do. Because, I think, there’s so much at stake.
Without a doubt, educating and empowering kids is my calling, my life’s work for my own two children and the students I’ve taught and continue to teach. Over the years, I’ve honed my craft, curated a well-stocked tool box, and refined my practice. That said, the process doesn’t get any easier, the task remains challenging. I’ve learned, though, we get better over time with lots of practice. And continuous learning.
That’s why I read so much. Books to build growth mindset, books about resilience, books about taking action and living your best life, fulfilling your purpose. I gravitate to work that is presented with a blend of personal anecdotes and research based-evidence.
These past few weeks, I’ve been rereading Mel Robbins’ the 5 Second Rule. In her book, Ms. Robbins explores the trap of over-thinking and creating a negative, fear-based narrative that pushes so many of us into inaction and becoming stuck. Having become stuck herself, Ms. Robbins developed a simple five second strategy for action. Backed by neuroscience, her process for acting on good ideas has been transformative for lots of over-thinkers.
The fact that I was reading the 5 Second Rule while my daughter was simultaneously preparing for her first art show post-college and interviewing for a job in higher education was pure serendipity. As an educator, I know the research on parents being their child’s primary source of influence. And here she was, living under our roof again for the first time in four years. Navigating an incredibly stressful time with her parents in the next room, keeping tabs on the progress of both her show and job search. Yikes!
My husband and I tried our best to be supportive, but I’m pretty sure we hovered. As a writer, I know that putting yourself and your creative work out into the world can be dauntingly scary. The same can be said for working in a more traditional field, as well. The fear of judgment can become a terrible deterrent. The imagined scenarios of failure and the uncertainty of what if are confidence-eroders. We tried to support her in the best way; making ourselves available to answer her questions, offer advice only when solicited and keep the fridge stocked with good food.
A few days before the show I arrived home from work. Her best high school friend was visiting, offering moral support. She, too, was in the process of finding her first post-college job. She, too, was navigating the stressful process of interviewing and waiting. My daughter had had a phone interview for an amazing job a few days earlier. She’d been told the process would move quickly, but she’d been playing phone tag with the college for the past 24 hours. She’d made the last call so it was her turn to receive a call back. But her phone hadn’t rung, cell service in our house undependable. The end of the business day was drawing near and her time was at a premium. The art show was going up in two days. Would she need to make the four hour drive for an in-person interview? The timing was terrible. But all signs pointed to this being an amazing opportunity. So, I butted in.
“You need to Mel Robbins this thing.”
“What?” she said.
“Five second rule it. You call back,” I said.
“Yeah,” my husband chimed in.
“You really should,’ her friend joined in.
“Pick up your phone,” I said. “If you get voice mail, you get voice mail. You’ll leave a message. Then it’s up to them.”
Then I counted down. “Five, four, three, two, one, go!” I pointed to the door.
She headed out to the back porch with her phone. She made the call. And arranged an interview!
“Aren’t you glad you five seconded it?” I said when she shared her news.
“I guess so,” she said.
In the whirlwind of three days, she traveled 500 miles, interviewed for a great job and exhibited in a juried art show. She faced her fears, worked through discomfort and experienced success.
A few days after the interview, she was offered the job. She packed up her car and made the four hour drive to a small college town to start the new phase of her life. As she pulled away, she smiled her broad smile. She looked like a young Mary Tyler Moore, heading into the world on her own. I thought of the theme song to the show, “Love is All Around.” Like Mary, she was headed off into the unknown. I knew there’d be an adjustment but I know in my heart she is going to not only make it, she is going to thrive.
This morning I stood at the kitchen counter, reflecting on the whirlwind of the past week, how our daughter’s life had jettisoned in just a few days. My husband and I have been empty nesters for two years and we’ve embraced it. Realizing that our oldest was actually an adult who was living far away hit me. I was so happy for her, but a twinge sad.
I reached for the tomato I’d placed on the windowsill the night before. It was still a little yellow so I figured I’d save it for my lunch, give it another day to ripen. But overnight it had developed a bunch of black spots that radiated from the center. I’d waited too long and it had gone bad. Then it occurred to me. Opportunities are like tomatoes on the vine. They take time to ripen, but they need to be picked at just the right time. Enjoyed. If we wait too long, don’t act, then the opportunity will pass. So will the joy. I planted these tomatoes from seed in April. Finally, in September, they are ready to be picked and enjoyed. Right then and there. Foolishly, I had waited, let the opportunity pass.
I smiled at the irony. Had my daughter waited for the call back, didn’t act, let the call go to voicemail due to unpredictable phone service; who knows what would have happened? Perhaps her opportunity would have withered on the vine, maybe been picked by someone else who was waiting, ready. But she’d acted, made the call, “picked the tomato.” Chosen to enjoy it. Without over-thinking.
May this be the first of many tomatoes she picks at their peak.
©Kathie Z.
