Be the Change

By Suzanne Wiggins

When I was in first grade we would get an hour of music class once a week with Miss Nott, the elementary school music teacher. I remember walking single file down to a third grade classroom where everyone sat cross legged on the hard asbestos tile floor. One week, Randy Sage was sitting to my left, and although we were told to be quiet, Randy kept leaning over to whisper “I’m going to suck your blood.” There could only be four explanations for this behavior, 1) it was close to Halloween, 2) his mother allowed him to watch Dark Shadows after school, 3) he ate Count Chocula cereal for breakfast, or 4) he was weird. As a side note, I ended up marrying Randy Sage on the playground during recess when we were in third grade. After enduring this harassment from Randy for some time, I finally leaned towards him and acted like I was going to bite his neck. In that millisecond I heard my name screamed from the front of the room and was told to stand up and return to my classroom.

Oh, the horror of it. Kicked out of class in first grade. I remember walking the empty hallway as slowly as I could, head down, tears streaming across my face. Keep in mind, I was the perfect kid. Always happy, always listened, did what I was told, raised my hand, best student ever. Obviously I was traumatized by the event to the extent it has been burned into my memory. By the next year, Miss Nott had become Mrs. Hall and turned out to be my second grade teacher. She had no recollection of the infamous incident with Randy Sage so I kept my mouth shut. Mrs. Hall turned out to be a pretty good teacher from my point of view. I remember making holiday ornaments by sticking cloves into an orange, singing John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt and Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree, and on rare and special occasions getting to sit in the large rocking chair in the corner to read a favorite book aloud to the entire class. Definitely “joy of a child” type stuff.

After second grade Mrs. Hall began to teach music again. I remember standing on risers singing with a bunch of other kids while Mrs. Hall walked slowly around listening intently. I have never considered myself a good singer, but I must have done ok because I was selected to join the school’s choir. Now that I think of it, it was less like singing and more like shouting because Mrs. Hall prided herself on the volume produced by her choir. There was no hiding your light under a bushel in this group. The highlight of being a choir member was getting to go by bus to the mall 30 minutes away and performing in the center court atrium. The acoustics were really good. I stood there alongside my fellow choir members all of us in our white shirts and navy skirts for girls and pants for the boys shouting our little hearts out to the live piano music. I felt particularly good that afternoon because I wore my favorite navy knee socks which upon closer inspection had a bumble bee design. Despite my exceptionally great memory, I only remember one song from my choir days and really just the first line of the lyrics, “Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me…”

I was reminded of this by a video that caught my attention on Facebook the other day. It was actually more like a PowerPoint presentation with text screens fading from one to the next. It told the story of a man who had grown unhappy in his marriage. He loved his wife, but it seemed that their relationship was broken and they were becoming the worst version of themselves. The man thought long and hard about this dilemma and came to the realization that if things were to change in the marriage it would have to start with a change in him.

The next morning when his wife woke up, he rolled over and asked, “What can I do to make your day easier?” As you can probably guess, the wife was very distrustful and suspicious of this changed attitude. So he asks again, “What can I do to make your day easier?” Sarcastically she says, “Clean the kitchen.” So without comment or complaint the husband gets out of bed, goes downstairs and cleans the kitchen.

The next morning the same dialogue plays out. The husband asks, “What can I do to make your day easier?” Again with a sarcastic tone the wife responds, “Straighten the garage.” And that is exactly what he does. After about a week of this new and unexpected behavior, the wife breaks down and confesses to her husband that she is horrible to live with and that she should be the one asking him the question. The husband smiles lovingly and tells his wife that he appreciates what she has said, but for now, HE needs to be the change. The story continues on to a happy, yet imperfect ending.

I started to think about how often I look to external conditions for change before considering how I might make improvements or alterations in my own behavior. And that would be a great big IF I even think about internal possibilities. How often do we decide the solution is a different job, a different partner, new friends or social hangout, or a general change in scenery? What if every time I became frustrated or unhappy I looked to myself first to make change? Could it be possible that whenever I have the thought ‘I wish he/she were…less cranky, more loving, less negative, more open minded, listened better, communicated more, had higher self-esteem’ that it was actually a clear sign of what I needed to do?

A very good friend gave me the book, The Five Love Languages – For Singles, a few years back. Somewhere in the first few chapters the author tells of a handsome young man that approached him while at a conference and asked for help. The man explained that he desired to find love, get married and have a family, but he just never seemed to be able to form lasting relationships with women as they tended to break things off after just a few month.

The author asked the man to tell him a bit more about his past. It turns out the man grew up with a critical father who drank too much and a mother who worked hard, but was often depressed. As the discussion went on it dawned on the young man that he was often critical with the women he dated, just like his parents had been with him growing up. At the end of the meeting the author suggested a course of action for the young man to follow for the next 6 months. Although he was apprehensive, the man was willing to make the effort since the author was confident that it would ultimately lead to finding a lasting, happy relationship.

About a week later when the young man made his routine call home, he ended the brief conversation with his Mom by saying “I love you” to which his Mother replied, “I love you, too.” The man couldn’t believe it. He had anticipated an awkwardness at the end of the call thinking it would take several months before his Mom might actually respond positively. Every call after, when he said I love you, his Mom replied, “I love you too”, so he accelerated the suggested timeline and after only a month he added, “I appreciate what you’ve done for me over the years.” His Mom tearfully apologized for not being able to do more, but the young man said, “I understand, but I want you to know that I love you and appreciate everything you did.” From that point forward his phone conversations and relationship with his Mother dramatically changed for the better. Things didn’t happen so quickly with his Dad. His Mom usually answered the phone so he only talked to his Dad about every three weeks. The first time he said, “I love you”, his Dad said, “What?” So he said it again and his Father mumbled, “oh, yeah.” The next call his Dad responded to “I love you” with “yeah, ok.” At the end of the third call, his Dad said, “I love you too.” Having never heard those words from his Father before, the young man cried as he hung up the phone. The process was slower, but the relationship with his father continued to improve.When the author bumped into the young man a year later at another conference, he had been dating a girl for five months and was optimistic about the future and what might unfold.

The story makes a great point. Love stimulates love or in Law of Attraction terms, energy attracts similar energy. If you want a better world, you have to start by being a better person. If you want peace, you have to be peaceful. If you want change, YOU have to be the change.

Life from the Seat of a Tricycle

By Suzanne Wiggins

One early spring morning while walking in the park, I spotted a little girl riding a tricycle towards me on the sidewalk. She was pedaling frenziedly, curls blowing in the speed-induced breeze. As she approached, she looked up at me with the sweetest smile and what I can only describe as a look of pure joy on her face. I chuckled aloud and in that instant I knew exactly what I was searching for. I wanted to recapture the joy of a child.

What is that, you ask? It’s waking up excited to face the day knowing incredible adventure awaits. It’s feeling lighthearted because you have no worry and harbor no ill will towards others. Challenges are met with inquisitiveness and humor versus frustration and negativity. It’s trading expectation of how others should behave and how situations should unfold for an eager anticipation of what will be revealed. In simplest terms, joy is letting go of control and allowing life to surprise us. It’s similar to no longer caring to search out all your presents in the weeks leading up to Christmas, after realizing how much more fun and glorious it is to wait and savor the surprise hidden beneath the beautiful wrapping.

I’m not saying that I expect to live in a constant state of childish joy. But when you capture that feeling even briefly, you want to find it again as often as possible. And how is this achieved? Well most importantly, you must believe that joy is possible. Too often we dismiss those desires that burn in our hearts, choosing instead to deny that our lives can change in great and miraculous ways…simply by believing it is possible. I encounter people on a daily basis who tell me that they are too old to follow their dreams, or their unhappy relationship cannot be fixed, or they’ll never find love, find work they’re passionate about, enough money to travel, or the discipline to lose weight. Why the hell not?! Unfortunately, they no longer believe.

Honestly, I do understand why and how they got to that point. I use to be a non-believer myself. I didn’t believe I deserved my heart’s desire. I would tell myself that I was ok and that it didn’t matter that I wanted so much more. I willingly sat idle waiting for someone special to arrive and validate my worth and confirm my secret suspicion that I was pretty great and deserved praise and love. Eventually that person did arrive, and amazingly, it turned out to be me.

We don’t come into this world feeling unworthy or undeserving. We are told this with words, facial expressions, and angry disapproval. We’re conditioned, usually by the very people who are supposed to have our best interest at heart. But what’s important is that we figure out that love isn’t perfect. And just because someone we love told us a story doesn’t necessarily make it true. Joy is in the letting go. The giant cleansing exhale of all the thoughts and memories that keep us stuck, in order to make room for a deep inhale of beauty, love, positivity and strength. The things which fan the flames of our belief. A belief that we can create anything we desire, big or small.

I still see that little girl on the tricycle so clearly in my mind’s eye. How easy it would have been to walk past and not have taken notice of something so mundane and insignificant. But I’m so very grateful that I was awake and paying attention that day. For the biggest life lessons are often taught in the smallest moments and sometimes the smallest people. Don’t believe me. Believe yourself.