I can well recall two little pieces of paper taped to the inside of my dad’s bedroom closet door. One said, “Look sharp, feel sharp, be sharp.” (This baffled me as a kid. My dad was old and bald. To whom could he have been giving fashion advice?) The other said, “Can I do without, fix what I’ve got, or use something else?”
That my smart and serious Dad had to resort to asking himself a question like that caught my interest. On the one hand, he clearly sought a dapper appearance. On the other, he disapproved of unnecessary spending. His question–Can I do without, fix what I’ve got, or use something else?–was a guardian angel defending him from the error of wasting money.
I have since kept my nose in the wind, sniffing the breeze for useful questions. “What is the problem we are trying to solve?” can cut through a lot of squabbling and subtext or illuminate mis-matched agendas in a group. “What is the smallest, easiest step I can take in the direction I want to go?” can get me off my duff when I’m feeling daunted and despairing.
I had occasion to think about my trove of useful questions when I recently attended a presentation by Adrienne Freeland about a program that combines horsemanship education with learning about grief. The pairing is unusual, but according to program participants, highly beneficial to those who’ve lost a loved one.
I wondered when I read the marketing description for Adrienne’s presentation what could have inspired her to blend these two apparently distinct circles? The answer is… a “dreadful” experience in a grief counseling situation. Adrienne had sustained yet another loss in a life overly full of bereavement, and had signed herself up for a program dealing with loss of a loved one.
The program convened in a musty courthouse basement, on rickety, mismatched chairs, gathered around a folding table. She endured the first session, then asked herself, “Could I put together something better than this?” and got a resounding yes for an answer.
Her story resonated with me for the way her deep disappointment became a catalyst for action. I can point to any number of authors whose writing careers started in disappointment. There I was, depending on one of my desert island keeper authors to take me away from a particularly stressful phase of my life, when I got out the new release I’d been saving for a break-glass-in-case-of-emergency moment.
The book was a howling dud (to me. I’m sure it sold splendidly). I was soooo disappointed.
“Can I do better than this?” My answer was not a resounding yes, but it was positive enough that within a few years, I could support myself with the results. So I now 
include in my collection of useful questions, “Ok, I’m disappointed. Maybe bitterly disappointed. Could I do a better job than this person did? How? What would set my mousetrap apart? What is my disappointment telling me about how to achieve a better outcome? How can my disappointment inspire me?”
Has disappointment ever inspired you to take on a challenge and get it done right?
I’ve sent out my first batch of Advanced Reader Copy files for The Mysterious Marquess (and the web store ebook and Amazon print version are already available), but if you’d like an ARC, email me at [email protected]. If I have any ARCs left, I’ll send one along.
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The teacher who tried to teach me piano in 7th grade eventually told my mother he had stomach aches before my lessons, I didn’t have a musical bone in my body and she was wasting her money and his time. I played in the honors recital the following year. Different teacher. Is this what you were asking?
Much of what I do is because of what I can’t. As an aspiring gymnast, I grew an outsize bosom. Most Brahms and Rachmaninoff is beyond my physical ability. The poorest vocal quality and ear in my family means I read music the best.
Living well is the best revenge.
My career future in management was in reaction to a “poor”, or at least an uninspired boss who dithered. I was sure that I could do better! Of course, it took determination, risk taking, and sometimes attendant poor publicity which is hard. I learned that I love to grow both organizations and people. Today after retirement, I look back on that boss with a kinder eye, and remember that he supported me as a woman professional when many would not at the time.
Huh, that’s an interesting question! I can’t think of a time when I have been inspired to do a better job than something I had already experienced. I have so man things on my plate that I jealously guard my down time, even now. I may have great ideas for how something could be improved, but that won’t get me to add another task to my To DO list.
Growing up quiet and shy, seeing myself as as boring as milk toast, being completely dominated in my unfortunate marriage I heard a “saying” that I took to heart as I went through divorce and re-entry into being single and a parent, going back to college while working full time. It was “Adversity builds character”. I figured the way things were going I was going to have lots of character soon than later.
My mom went through life saying, “We’re not going to buy that. I can make it.” She often didn’t, but I actually do make things. I’m not sure it is appreciated by my spouse and kids, but I now can weave, knit, sew, quilt, do basic plumbing, and bake. And am always up to try a new project…
I try to learn from my mistakes, although I have repeated some of them a lot.
Because of the times I haven’t helped and regretted it, I try to err on the side of kindness and give people the benefit of the doubt. To not be judgmental, and to help even when I can’t be entirely sure it is needed.
Not a question, but recently when I was struggling with things that had been useful in the past but didn’t seem to be taking me in the right direction now, I read the phrase “always remember your why” and that helped me assess. My disappointment made more sense to me and I stopped what wasn’t working anymore. I have started doing some of the work for myself and it has been proven to be a great decision.
Hmmm… I’m not sure if this counts, but when I was in my first year of college (in Ithaca, NY) there was so much going on in that small town that I was a bit overwhelmed (Cornell University and Ithaca College). Luckily, in one of those strange shops only seen in college towns, I found a beautiful poster of a large sailing ship on the water with a gorgeous sunset behind it. It said “A ship in the harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.”
It gave me the strength to tell my parents the next year that I had realized I hated my major and was moving on to a tiny college in a different city and had to start over. It was glorious; I found the right major and enjoyed a spectacular career.
More than once, I had employees come to me to say that they were resigning in order to go back to school or take a better job, often leaving me short-handed. But I was thrilled for them and told them about my poster. I’m still in touch with many of them.
I still have the poster, although it’s stuck in a box in the attic, a bit ragged and worn. But I still use that phrase to remember not to be complacent– I continue to need to sail out of safe harbors, at times.
Thank you, Grace, for the ARC of The Mysterious Marquess. I greatly appreciate it!
Years ago I was hired into a global hotel company (having never taken a business course in my life). At 21 years old I was surrounded by amazing, talented and much more experienced people who had been all over the world opening hotels. We gathered to try out some training materials among ourselves, although none of us were bona fide trainers. When I got up to deliver a piece, my nerves hijacked my respiration and I began hyperventilating to the point of dizziness; I set aside my notes and declared, “I am so damned nervous!” These lovely colleagues laughed WITH me and sat me down with a Coke. Then we brainstormed ways that all of us could become formally educated as trainers. I decided then and there that I wanted to be known as a “super-trainer,” and that vision put me on a wonderful path. Decades later, as an executive coach, I can still sketch out a training plan on the proverbial back of a napkin, assess someone’s learning style in a few moments, lead a senior level strategy session or a blue-collar safety meeting …with no fear and with tremendous enjoyment.
Grace, I feel your pain with the upcoming dreaded dental work. Just had to have a molar out myself & not a fun experience. Healing now. Slow.
I truly enjoy your books. I feel I know the Windham family and it’s always nice when one or more of the clan appears in a book. I just finished your newest. The book about the duke who was a sculptor was good, too. I have misplaced it and wanted to reread it since I have your newest & enjoyed it! I’ll find it eventually (I hope).
When I was growing up I was very disappointed in the teaching I was experiencing in school (especially in science cause I love nature.). Finally I had a high school science teacher who assigned us a project requiring us to do field work and not just read a book and answer questions at the end. I distinctly remember thinking that this was the way I should have been learning for all these years. Through many twists and turns I found myself becoming a teacher of science for elementary school teachers and a writer of hands on science lessons. My disappointment had led me to re-think the way I wanted to be taught and it led to a 30+ year career that I found very fulfilling.