Voices of Angels

The psychiatrist asked the patient, “Do you hear voices in your head?”  “Yes, I do,” replied the patient.  The psychiatrist thought to himself, with his own voice in his head, “Aha, he hears voices!”

Recently I was doing a little training session with a youth triathlon club. We were working on mental toughness, specifically how to deal with unhelpful internal chatter.  You may have unhelpful voices saying unhelpful things to you, such as “You never were any good,” or “What makes you think you can do this?” or any number of nasty little messages.  Well, so do seven-year-olds, believe it or not.  And when you are training or racing in triathlon, those unhelpful voices can give you trouble.  So this youth triathlon team and I were working on how to deal with that unhelpful self-talk.

One way to deal with these voices is to make them funny.  So, during the experiment (I wanted to call it an “exercise” but the kids didn’t like that word, so we called it an “experiment.”  Evidently, exercise is work, and experiments are fun.) 

Anyway…

I wanted to lighten up that unhelpful internal chatter.  Try this now:  think of an unhelpful internal voice and what it says to you.  Now…have that voice say the same thing it always says, but instead, have it inhale a huge lungful of helium, and then say its phrase in that weird Minnie Mouse helium voice.  I’ll bet you are giggling.  That funny voice takes the sting out of that unhelpful voice and makes it no big deal anymore.

Anyway…

I had all the kids recall an unhelpful voice, then asked them to dress up the speaker of that voice as a clown, with orange and green hair and giant shoes and big, puffy pants, then say the phrase.  They all giggled.  The unhelpful voice became not so vexing anymore.  Then I had them try it on another unhelpful message, with the clown suit and with the helium voice.  They giggled again.

Then I had them think about a time in the future when they are likely to run into that voice, and practice making it funny looking and funny sounding. That way, next time they run into a situation, they already know what to do.

They laughed even more.

Sometimes these unhelpful internal voices have an important message, and using these lightening techniques helps us all hear the message better.  And sometimes these voices are full of nonsense and tell us things that just aren’t true.  We don’t suck.  We aren’t useless.  We aren’t no good.

To break it down:

1. Ask your niece if she has any unhelpful voices in her head, either hers or someone else’s.  She doesn’t need to tell you what that voice says.
2. Tell her that this voice is going to say what it always says, but before it does, she gets to dress it up really funny, then have it inhale a big, giant lungful of helium.
3. Tell her to let the voice say what it wants to, all clownish and helium.
4. Ask her if that voice bothers her anymore.

Teach your nieces and nephews how to lighten up that voice.  It’s fun and it really helps them not to have to listen to all that nonsense.  Imagine what your life would have been like if you had learned this technique when you were seven.

A Toddler's Lesson in Determination

Last week I raced an Ironman triathlon in St George, Utah.  The swim portion was 2.4 miles, the bike leg stretched 112 miles and the run part was a full marathon, 26.2 miles.  The course is really hilly and the temperature was over 90 degrees with hard wind gusts.  I finished in 12 hours 58 minutes, number 18 of the 60 guys in my age group.  The weekend before I raced a half-Ironman distance race in California, and got seventh of 50 or more in my age group.

At the end of the race in St George, I was recovering and eating a few things, and saw a little kid, about 18 months old.  His father had just finished the race, and this toddler was hanging around with his family while his father tried to pull himself together.

I was feeling as though I had pretty good mental discipline and stick-to-it-iveness.  I had done two hard, lengthy races in a week’s time.  Ironman St. George was especially challenging, given the big hills and 140.6 miles of racecourse.  And it was really hot (did I mention that already?) and the wind gusts felt like a blast furnace. 

I thought I had reason to be a little self-congratulatory for racing with determination for nearly 13 hours.

Then I see this little guy, this toddler, this 1.5-year-old, at the race finish.

I watched this little kid trying to walk around on the lawn.  He’d take a step or two, fall to the grass, and then get up.  He’d take another step, and fall again.  Get up, fall down.  Get up, try to walk, fall down, and then get back up.

I watched him for five minutes.  He must have fallen and stood back up 100 times.

He never seemed to get discouraged, or irritated, or frustrated, or anything even remotely like that.  He just kept getting up and trying to walk, and falling down, and getting up again. He was just so—matter of fact about it.

Whoops, down.  No problem, just pop back up and start walking.  Down again. Okay, well, better get back up.  Down.  Up again.  Down.  Up again.

What determination.  It didn’t seem like he was battling.  He was just getting back up and up and up and up.

Imagine what we all could do if we had that kind of determination.

He might have fallen down 100 times, but he got up 101 times.

When your nieces and nephews get a little discouraged, gently remind them of what it took them to learn to walk.  1000 falls, 1001 recoveries.

You could ask your niece, “What’s the alternative? Lay there until the vultures come?”

We all know how to persevere.  It’s how we learned to walk. 

Thanks to that little boy, whose father had just raced 140.6 miles in infernal heat and wind, and persevered. 

That little boy persevered more.

Essential Skills Videos

Here are two new videos illustrating key skills to teach nieces and nephews.

The proper way to peel a banana

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aspBJHi-HA

And How to kick a rock off a trail.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7CfPejTXLYw

Summertime Is Reading Time

Every year at this time I think about compiling a summer reading list.  I was trained to do this and now it’s a habit.

My older brother, Ed, just before summer vacation began, would walk me up the hill to the public library.  There he would help me choose a handful of books to read over the summer.  I was seven or eight back then when this annual ritual started.

Ed was then and still is a great reader.  He reads a lot and a lot of variety.  Because he also has a great memory, Ed is really well informed.

Even back then, Ed had a gift for selecting books that I would enjoy and learn something from, too.

The Sunset District library did not have the world's largest collection, but it had plenty for Ed to rifle through and pick some winners.

“Ray Bradbury would be great for you,” he said.  “Let’s try Martian Chronicles.  If you like that one, Dandelion Wine would be fantastic.”

Ray Bradbury was great.  Dandelion Wine remains one of favorite novels.

Ed also introduced me to short stories.  “Have you ever read any Saki?” he asked.  I had not.  “Here, listen to this one.”  Ed read me “The Open Window.”  I was hooked again.

Ed helped me assemble a stack of books to lug home.  He’d ask me how I liked them as I made my way through each volume, and give me a bit of background on the author and how these works came to be.

I tried to read some poetry, and struggled with the meanings of some of the verse.  When I asked Ed what it meant—what the author meant—he cleared it all up for me.

He said, “What did the author mean?  Who cares? What does it mean to you?”  Ah, so that’s how this works.

I tried reading hard stuff.  Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison worked me.  Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee crushed me.  And the Russian novels—cold, cold, cold; potatoes, potatoes, potatoes.

I don’t remember everything I read, but I do remember that Ed steered me to great books that I loved to read, and turned me into a reader.

A while ago, at a dinner at friends’ house, the host complained that my wife and I don’t ever just sit still.  I argued the contrary. “I read 300 books last year.”  And when I went back and counted them up, I had.

Even now, decades later, around the middle of May, I get a funny feeling that I should be heading to the library.

Take your niece to the library.  Pick out a few volumes that you like and that you think she will like.

Start a habit.

Magic Paper Bag

In this video the nieces team up to demonstrate a technique from the book Uncle! The Definitive Guide for Becoming the World's Greatest Aunt or Uncle.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmzx05z0mJ0

Creating Future Experience

We know from experience that nobody ever learns anything from experience. 

How can you turn this truism upside down for your nieces and nephews?

Babies come into the world lacking much real-world experience.  They just haven’t had a lot of time to accumulate much seasoning.  They have to learn things for themselves, and sometimes those learnings are painful.  You hope and guard against lessons that are debilitating or fatal. 

How do you help your nieces and nephews learn from experience but not have to risk all the downside of the hot stove?

It’s called rehearsal.

Your nephew is going to his first dance.  His first dance is fraught with peril.  He is thinking, if not asking you directly, “What if nobody will dance with me?  What if I ask somebody to dance and she turns me down?  What if she says yes but I dance funny?”

You could respond with a line from Willy Wonka:

“What if my beard were made of green spinach?” cried Mr Wonka.  “Bunkum and tommyrot!  You’ll never get anywhere if you go about what-iffing like that.  Would Columbus have discovered America if he’d said ‘What if I sink on the way over?  What if I meet pirates?  What if I never come back?’  He wouldn’t even have started.  We want no what-iffers around here.” 

Instead, what you might do to actually be helpful is easier.  You don’t have to remember all that Roald Dahl stuff, for one thing. 

Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.

When your nephew gets handed a life lesson, you can help him incorporate that learning into his future.

Ask him this: “What did you learn from that experience?”

Listen to hear that he at least considered there was a lesson there.

Then emplant that learning into his future.

Ask your nephew, “When is the next time you will be in this same kind of situation? “  Once your nephew picks out an upcoming time when he could use his new experience, ask him to make a movie in his head about how he would like the next event to go, exactly as he wishes.  

Tell him, “You are the director of your own movie, so make it exactly as you wish it would go, just perfect.  Use your newfound experience to help you.”

That’s all.

Now your nephew has had a rehearsal to incorporate his new experience, and has placed it in an appropriate future situation, so it will be there exactly when he needs it.