joy

Wealth

/ Jillcoach / Leave a comment

We talk a lot about wealth in this country, primarily in the form of money or net worth. It seems to be primarily what we value, and the accumulation and hoarding of vast amounts of money, companies, and real estate holdings is held out as the American dream. The few who manage to do this are, in America, also labeled geniuses and seen as role models.

It hasn’t always been this way, as I’m reminded every December when I watch A Christmas Carol. (My personal favorite is the George C. Scott version, but I also enjoy Scrooged with Bill Murray, and the Muppets do a good one too.) Scrooge’s hoarding of wealth, obsession with money, and lack of feeling for anyone else are very pointedly criticized by Dickens—they are flaws of character, and sins for which he is forging a chain of penance to bear in the afterlife, “link by link, and yard by yard”. He has no connection to the people around him, and only seems to care about his business, which Dickens drives home with the image of Scrooge not leaving his money changing house even when his partner dies. These are not subtle messages, open to other interpretations. Scrooge is a bad dude.

The thing that finally breaks Scrooge is the reality of his own death coming, the realization that no one will care, and that his money will not insulate him. Even in this moment, he is selfish. Fear for himself is the final straw, piled on top of the reminders of Christmases past and the brutal realities of Christmas present; had Christmas Future stopped with the death of Tiny Tim, would that have been enough to motivate the change in Scrooge? We’ll never know.

The movies tend to portray Scrooge’s transformation as happening overnight, but I think the ghosts only opened the door to his change. Transformation is a process, not a moment, but however that door was opened, Scrooge walked through it. As anyone who has ever tried to break a lifelong habit knows, that motivation day one is powerful, but it doesn’t last. It is so easy to slide back into what is familiar, which is what I think Dickens was dangling when he had Scrooge give Bob Cratchit hell for being late. To continue the transformation is a day-to-day slog, which takes effort, constant re-motivation, and positive feedback. The thing that kept him going, helped him keep his word, was the positive reception he received when he changed. The people around him believed he could, they welcomed him in, and they showed him what joy and companionship could feel like.

This is the wealth no one ever talks about. It is the wealth of relationship, and knowing there are people who see you for who you are and love you “as is”. It is the wealth of knowing true joy, where happiness comes from what you pour out of your cup for others, and not from what you hold to yourself. It is the wealth of understanding that the real treasure is receiving the love and trust of another human being because they have determined you are safe. It is a wealth held by millions of people who may lack every other kind of wealth the world acknowledges.

I believe it is this wealth that Scrooge is really chasing but doesn’t understand until the end. There is never going to be enough money to fill a hole that comes from a lack of love, companionship, and joy, but that is where he hangs his hopes. He fears losing what he has accumulated, vilifies taxes and charities, sees himself as the hard-working hero, and walls himself off more and more as the years go by. His isolation and ego make him cruel and cold. He perceives poverty as a failing of character or morals, and dismisses and denigrates those in need. He is only, finally, spurred to change by the realization that he desperately wants someone to care and that time is running out for him.

Year after year, people sit 5th row center in theaters watching A Christmas Carol and the point flies completely over their heads. They shell out hundreds of dollars per seat for a show depicting disdain for the excesses of monetary wealth. Just as Scrooge snuffs out the light of truth with Christmas Past, these folks ignore the message and joke about ghosts and Tiny Tim. They don’t see that the hole in Scrooge’s heart mirrors their own.

I have discovered through my years on this earth that wealth manifests in a lot of ways: joy, love, community, laughter, art, beauty, nature, and yes, money. Money has a place in greasing the wheels of life, but shouldn’t be our lives. It shouldn’t define who we are, or be the driver behind everything we do, or be the only factor in making decisions for ourselves or our businesses. When the day comes for me to face my own Christmas Future end, I hope to not look back wishing I had laughed more, loved more, or been in community more. I hope that monetary wealth will be the last thing on my mind.

Merry Christmas, and may the days ahead bring you the wealth of love, joy, and companionship.

Business!’ cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. “Mankind was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The deals of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!”
― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Joy and Abandon

/ Jillcoach / 1 Comment

swim29Cannonball

Competitive swimming is about details, no doubt about it. Every motion is analyzed, from the position of the head to the angle of the hand on entry to the bend of the knee. We measure heart rate recovery, and the building of workouts consists of balancing elements of the different energy systems. Minutes of training, rest between sets, weight lifted, number of practices, stroke count, reaction time, breathing, and above all, time, time, time….we measure it all. It is easy for both coaches and swimmers to get bogged down and succumb to the tyranny of measuring the details.

You remember when you were little, and you swam wildly and happily, just because it was fun? You didn’t really care how it looked or how long it took, you just DID IT. Somewhere along the line we lose the ability to do this so easily, and it usually starts with a comment like “Hey, you could be really good at this if…”

If. If only you came to more practice. If only you tried harder. If only you fixed this or that. If only you started focusing on the details.

So we do. We like the idea of being good at something, and we like the idea of pleasing people, so we start to focus on the details, work harder, show up more, measure, measure, measure. The more we focus, however, the farther away “good” seems to be…no matter how much we improve, there is always a measurement that says we can be better, faster, stronger, or more dedicated. Before we know it, we can’t remember what it felt like to have fun swimming.

I could see the tension in my swimmers who were at this point, tension in the shoulders, in the face. They were flooded with disappointment in themselves when they failed to reach a measurement that meant “good”, and there was almost a sense of defeat in the realization that there was always another “good” to reach.

My advice to them was simple:  swim with joy and abandon. Separate practice from competition, and remember that practice is where we work, measure, and focus on details. Competition is the place to shut measurement brain down, and just DO, just BE, revel in the moment. Trust the work done at practice, stop thinking, and go. Just DO, just BE. Make the measurement of “good” whether it felt fun again.

Joy and abandon.

Life must also be this balance of doing the work and focusing on the details, and then throwing ourselves out there with joy and abandon, reveling in the moment, whatever it may be. Joy should be our goal, not some measurement that means “good” to someone else, not society’s definition of success. Joy should be the goal.

So absolutely, yes, work hard. Have integrity. Show up. Do the right things. Focus on the details. And then throw yourself wildly, with abandon, into the things that give you joy. Let go of caring how you look or what other people think or how you “measure up”, and throw yourself into your joy.

When swimmers could learn to let go and swim with joy again, they often ended up easily achieving and surpassing the “measurement” they were after, with the added bonus of not caring as much. They enjoyed getting there, having the time they were after, but the joy of reconnecting with the fun part of their sport became the goal. The more joy was the goal, the better they got, and the less they worried about it.

Talk about a win.