I used to have a picture as the background on my computer. It was a female athlete running, and it said “the voice in your head that says you can’t do this is a liar”.
I loved that because at the time, I was training for my blackbelt. I had internalized the voice of my parents, saying that “you can’t do that”, and now I was telling it to myself. Or perhaps fighting with myself about it is more accurate.
I really wanted that blackbelt. But the noise in my head was deafening. Who did I think I was, anyway? I’m a widowed housewife with the 3 little kids, working a part time job. What made me think I could become a blackbelt? The story of my life, up until then, had (mostly) been struggle, hardship, inequality, unfairness pain, suffering, brokenness, and just barely making it no matter how hard I worked. Could I actually reach some level of success, in anything? Combine with that, phys-ed was one of my worst subjects in school. Could I really become a blackbelt? Really?
My instructor believed I could. He did not know anything about me, except that my husband had died and all 3 of my kids were taking martial arts. And so was I.
He saw that I was determined, diligent, focused and wanted only the best for my kids. He talked one night in class about how important it is for us adults to make time for ourselves. Sort of like the idea on an airplane, if there is an issue, to put your mask on first before you try to help anyone else. You can’t help anyone if you are out for the count. I guess the same is true in life. I was not ok to continue my life with struggle, hardship, inequality, unfairness, pain, suffering, brokenness and just barely making it no matter how hard I worked. I thought I had a chance to make something of myself being Eric’s wife. We supported each other, he believed in me and encouraged me to do things. Until he died.
The year after I became a widow, my father told me I couldn’t grow pumpkins to sell at a roadside stand. That was a lie. The kids and I successfully grew pumpkins and sold them at a roadside stand. It was fun, life giving and team building.
When the voice in my head told me I couldn’t become a blackbelt, I was not impressed. Then I happened upon that graphic…the voice in your head that says you can’t do this is a liar.
Just like the voice that told me I couldn’t grow pumpkins was a lie, the voice in my head that said I couldn’t become a blackbelt was a lie. Right?
I became ‘the little engine that could”. I think I can…I think I can…I think I can…
I kept going to martial arts class, diligently focusing on the goal. Blackbelt. When “the voice” said I couldn’t do it, I told myself I thought I could.
Eventually, I was invited to test for my blackbelt. The fear was almost overwhelming, but I had worked hard for a long time, and the instructor believed I was ready and could be successful. I chose to listen to THAT voice.
On the day of the test, we started with a 2 km (1.2 mile) warm up run. After the run, we put our martial arts gear on and the 4 hour test would begin. One of the men in the class left the floor, and the building. He did not test. I wondered what happened to him. If he was ill? Injured? Or maybe he had a voice in his head that said he couldn’t do it, and he believed that.
I think it was Henry Ford who said “whether you believe you can or you can’t, you’re right” or something to that effect.
The war in my mind for believing I could, won that day. And I became a blackbelt. I am no longer practicing martial arts, and probably no longer qualify as a blackbelt. It is something I achieved at one time, but I assume it is a “use it or lose it “situation. Either way, the mindset I learned in that time has been one of the most transferrable skills I’ve ever learned. One of the many things I love about martial arts: mindset. That experience changed my life, and I am forever grateful to my instructors.
The voice in my head still lies to me sometimes. But now I have experience proving it wrong.
Do you have a voice in your head that says you can’t do this? If you do, know this – it is a liar. Prove it wrong.
