The Perks of Aiming Low

"You know what else they need to invent?"my friend Jenn asked, "a place for you to put your purse in the car!  I put my purse on the seat next to me but when other people are in the car with me there's no place to put your purse!"

Flashback to all the times I put my bag between me and the door and squish it so I can make room for my friends and the handles won't allow me to hang it over the headrest.

This conversation came after a discussion of my need for someone to invent a tote that has a zip on purse on the outside of it so you can attach it and detach it and it doesn't take up room on the inside of the work tote that is stuffed silly as it is.

So many times we hear ideas.  "What we need is..." But what pushes someone over the edge to actually take action on their idea?  I think skill level and energy have a lot to do with it. ...and trauma...

Flashback to my class at JoAnn Fabrics where we got held up at gunpoint at the beginning of the last sewing class so I never really learned how to finish things like hems and waists etc.  I never went back.

If I knew how to sew, I think it would be a lot easier to create what I wanted. If I had the energy.  If I had the money.  If, if, if.  Or, it may just be knowing that you'll have to deal with failure.  One after the other of mock ups, and test totes, and trying to do new things that don't work before you figure out what does.

Sometimes fear of dealing with the possibility of failure causes us to not even try.  To be paralyzed as our conscious mind runs kicking and screaming to the bed to hide under the covers yelling, "I don't wanna!"

A friend of mine has been on a roll lately and she talked to a group of us about reading this article on 100 rejections.  It has changed her attitude and the way she approaches things.  The basic idea being, throughout the year to make a goal of collecting 100 rejections.

What does this do?  Well, for those jobs that you'd be applying for where you'd go, "I'd like this job but I'm not qualified so I'm not going to try," you'd instead go, "Okay, applying so I can make my goal of 100 rejections."  In trying for so many things that she'd normally not even go for, she ends up getting some of the things and so, to us, it seems like she's on a roll and successful.

In aiming to fail, to be rejected, she ends up winning and succeeding some of the time.  More than she would have if she hadn't tried in the first place.  And instead of moping and being sad about it whenever she gets a rejection, she dusts off her hands and does a mini-celebration chalking it up to another rejection toward making her goal.

It reminds me of The Kaizen Way.  Taking small steps to keep yourself from self-sabotage into paralyzation.  It's one of the perks of aiming low.  You get more done.

Now you'll have to excuse me.  I'm going to start with my small step of doing a search of free sewing lessons on YouTube.

Small Things

The bear box swings open as my little niece's high pitched voice says, "Who knew you could have so much fun without technology!" I laugh, pausing for a moment as the cooking stove and pots and pans are pulled out of the box, and respond, "Yes, who knew!"

It's moments like these in the wilderness that are why I choose to bring my Silicon Valley raised niece and nephew camping.  Right now, it's car camping, but when they're a little older, I hope to take them back country.

Some of the first phrases from my nephew's mouth included, "Youuuu Tube" and "ahhh phone." These are children who have grown up in technology: iPads, gaming systems, and digital conveniences galore.   And although these conveniences are great, there is nothing like interacting with the Earth to help you understand the world and why it's worth protecting.

Some people go the farming route.  I thought I'd introduce them via camping -- since I grew up running through the woods and going camping with my family -- it is my comfort zone.

The smell of pine and earth relaxes me.  Once, when microwaving some corn on the cob, a woman who grew up in the city complained that the break room smelled like chemicals.  "Chemicals?" I asked.  "That's not chemicals, that's earth.  It smells like soil and corn."  I pulled out the corn on the cob and showed her.  She sniffed the husk and she pointed and said, "THAT smells like chemicals."

Shaking my head, I let her know it was organic corn.  No chemicals.  I grew up in Wisconsin surrounded by corn fields.  Corn husk and soil are common scents.  So is pesticide. I know the difference.  She wouldn't believe me.

So, how does a community entice members to respect and protect the world they live on when they're now distanced from it?  When they don't realize the cause and effect of their actions comes back to them because they can't see it right away?

I don't know.

But I believe small things make a difference.  And right now, a small, squeaky voiced little girl is realizing she can have a lot of fun in the woods, unplugged, sleeping on the ground. I'm good with that.