Continuous Improvement

What is it to learn? I mean to really learn. Sure, you can sit in a classroom and frantically scribble down the most prominent words of sentences that someone once heard and, now, is regurgitating to you. Yea, you can read what McGraw-Hill and Prentice Hall have decided is worthy-enough information to publish in a textbook. Mind you, this is the same textbook that thousands of other students around the world will devour, chapter by chapter, only to make a grade on their exam and, no sooner, put the information out of their mind. Absolutely, you can sit by while someone shows you, step-by-step, how to perform a task on a computer or change a spark plug on a vehicle. And while you are surely being taught, are you really learning? Or are you merely remembering? Maintaining a series of steps in a particular sequence in your head so that you might be able to mimic the task at hand?

I know I've said it a million times: "You'll never guess what I learned, today..." And then I'll go on to demonstrate something my ex showed me how to do, or give a synopsis of a lecture in one of my college courses. But really, when I sit back and think about it, other than storing information and presumably being able to recreate a situation at a later date, I'm never able to convince myself that I truly learned anything.

To me, learning has more to do with life, and the trials and tribulations that go along with it. Its about taking the underlying lessons from any given moment in life, carrying the lesson into a value-adding mindset, and using it to better yourself in the future. 

My dad recently said to me, "Ya know, Shel, you can't always learn things the hard way." I just nodded in agreement with him when he first said it, but upon some personal reflection on the statement, I think I've gained a greater understanding of what he truly meant by it. 

For the better part of my 23.5 years on Earth, I've managed to learn all my lessons, and I mean all of them, the hard way. I allowed my actions to fly freely, without creating any reservations derived from a preceding logical thought process. Instead of working towards damage prevention, I allowed whatever may happen to happen, and then played game after game of 52-card-pickup to sort through the aftermath of my actions. Without a doubt, anybody who knows me would be unable to tell you any different. I consistently and knowingly allowed myself to fall between a rock and hard place just to have to dig myself out again, time after time. I loved it. And every time that I managed to wriggle my way out of a tough situation, sometimes by only the skin on my nose, I felt an overwhelming sense of ability, invincibility, and know-how.

                 But doesn't that get exhausting? Don't you get tired of cleaning up the mess you made?

Somehow, amazingly, I still enjoy flying by the seat of my pants. Regardless of what situation I've gotten myself into in the past, I've always found a way to come back out on top. I've "learned" that if I can find the drive, I can find a way to get through it. "Where there's a will, there's a way," right?

And then, my mind makes it's way back to my father's statement. Why can't I continue to live life this way? If it's worked in the past, it'll work again. Learning the hard way is how I learn things. Wait....learn what? What I have I really learned? I haven't learned a damn thing. I've only recognized a pattern and accepted it as the way of life. Fall down, get back up. But isn't that just repetition? Isn't that just recalling how to do the same thing, over and over again?

To learn, would be to take conscious note of how many times I've had to pull myself up off my knees and fight to keep my chin held high. To learn, would be to walk away from each one of those situations with the ability to use what I've learned to keep myself from falling down the next time around. To learn, would be to grow, to gain stride, to move forward. And, if I'm truly learning, these moments of hardship will make less frequent appearances. And if I take full advantage of the knowledge to be gained from my faltering moments, my troubled tears would be few and far between.

Here's to learning the easy way. Here's to continuous improvement. Here's to a more productive next 23.5 years. 

Cheers! Xo 

Success is Not Final, Failure is Not Fatal; It is the Courage to Continue That Counts

Sometimes, in life, everything just falls apart.  

You feel like you're not moving towards anything...nothing at all. You can't afford to buy groceries, a week's worth of dishes are piled up in the sink and you don't even want to get out of bed. You hate your job and your relationships have faltered. Suddenly, everything you thought you knew about where you were headed and what you wanted, doesn't make a bit of sense.  

Sometimes, in life, you can't help but to feel that you're at your lowest point. 

You internalize, because you feel so embarrassed about the shape you're in. You start to discount your goals, because, at this rate, you just know you'll never reach them. You simply start settling for less. 

And when you're at your worst, it would not be proper for life to let you off the hook, just yet. Instead, you'll lose your job, or your house will flood, or your car will spontaneously combust and dismember into a million different pieces. Whatever it may be, it will surely throw you over the edge at maximum speed with no brakes and no soft landing in sight. 

And when you're breathlessly sobbing in the middle of your living room floor with your hands clenched into mini wrecking balls and your knees tucked close to your chest, only then, have you truly arrived at Destination: Rock Bottom.

I know that many people reach this point at least once in their lifetime. And I know that everyone will handle their situation differently. They have different resources available to them, a different support system, different means of getting by.

But for me, my family is my savior. My parents, now in their mid-50's, drove three hours across the state in a commercial van. They loaded up every single one of my belongings, like a real-life version of Tetris, into the back of this van and carted me off to a new beginning. As I followed them down the highway, I thought: "Here are my parents, despite the distance, despite the hardships in my relationship with them over the past year or so, despite the reason or the cause...here they are. Doing whatever it takes to help me, to give me the opportunity to build my life back up. Here they are, loving me...truly, unconditionally.

I cried for a good 45 minutes of that drive, as I followed my bedroom furniture and kitchen utensils down I-96. I had cried so, so many tears over those few months of desperation, but these were the first of the happy tears. The overwhelming pressure of pure love kept pushing tears down my cheeks like I hadn't cried in years. I felt an immense sense of gratitude towards my parents, who were glimmers of hope navigating their way through the debris of my broken heart. All I could do was cry.

Although I have many things yet to take care of in Operation: New Start, I am astounded at how quickly I have bounced back to high spirits. I dove, head-first, into being happy. I spent as much time as possible with friends, shared many meals, conversations and adventures with my family, and I just started a new job that I'm extremely proud of. I kept myself busy with DIY projects and going to the gym and simply doing things that I enjoy.

While it takes personal effort and a large amount of desire to succeed, I absolutely could not have turned my life around like this...without my family. They gave me just the right amount of shoulder to lean on, some tough love to motivate me and, once again, a roof over my head until I'm back on my feet. I would like to think that any parent would do the same for their child, but the hard truth is that not every parent would...not every parent can. I, in no way, feel that I am all-deserving of the support I received, but boy am I ever grateful. Grateful to have truly caring and loving parents, grateful to be where I am, grateful to be smiling and  for each step I take towards a successful life.

There are a few lessons learned that I would like to capitalize on:
1) A strong family is the most beautiful blessing you will ever receive.
2) No matter how deep your pain or how heavy the circumstances, you can always find the strength you need to inch towards a better life.
3) Hitting rock bottom is actually beneficial, albeit those benefits may be disguised by heartache, tears and loss of direction.
4) Never settle.

Although its not nearly enough, a huge, heartfelt Thank You goes out to my Subjects of Honor, Mike and Sue Jackson, for saving me from my Twenty-Something-Life-Crisis.