Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
I received this email from sar_girl recently and she gave me her permission to share it with you:
Having someone (a coach, trainer, leader) hold the vision of what is possible lifts us to heights (or rappels us down!) we didn't think possible. sar_girl had it in her all the time. Jim knew that and helped her find it.
In our search and rescue squad there is a guy who instructs rappelling and cave rescue and that sort of thing. I have always wanted to try it but I am
TERRIFIED of heights.
[Take a look at this cliff!]
[Barry on belay.]
my friends. I climbed to the top of a 130 foot straight drop off cliff. I was scared--bad scared. Anyway, I let Jim hook me up on the harness. I have known Jim for several years and really trust him or I would have never done it.
I didn't know if I could do it. I started to get teary and cry a little bit. Jim is awesome in talking you through everything. This guy is an RN, EMT, Rescue Trainer. I swear there is nothing this guy doesn't do in the emergency and rescue field. He made me feel really comfortable. The rope fed thing I had was kinda slick and I couldn't stop the rope when I stepped over the edge so Jim pulled me back up and gave me his favorite feeder, the one he uses for cave rescues. That worked great.
So...I had to take the scariest step and that was to walk off the edge of a cliff backwards. Baby steps, let out some rope...baby steps, more rope, sit in the harness, legs out straight, walk down the cliff. I tell you what, it was a lot of work but as soon as I was over the edge the fear was gone. It was a great feeling. I conquered a major fear not once but twice. Yes, I climbed to the top and did it again. I think I will do it again some day, too.
[She liked it so much, she did it again. That's sar_girl in the middle.]
Now I wouldn't hesitate to rappel down to assist a rescuer retrieving a victim. Heck, I think I will do it just for fun some day again. To me what makes it so scary is there is no second chance. If something goes wrong and you fall, that is all she wrote. There are no do overs.
Is there something you have always wanted to do but couldn't quite bring yourself to? I bet it is possible. Want to give it a shot?
Tell me about it. I'd love to hear.
Wanda Tucker, Coach
For a free 1/2 hour coaching session with Wanda, send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org.
PS - These pictures were taken by sar_girl and friends. Thanks for letting me use them.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Saturday, August 19, 2006
I try to keep it uplifting around here. And most of the time I try not to show my paranoia about the State of the Union. Usually, I avoid politics.
This is too important. If I bring this issue to one person's awareness, it will have been worth it. Please read this article.
Thanks to Tim Youmans for the link.
Wanda Tucker, Coach
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
"In the late 1960s, explained Keele [former keeper who worked with directly with Pet, now the Zoo's deputy director], Pet and the other Zoo elephants were involved in a study to test their visual acuity. Using a slide projector and a custom-built box with a screen and large white buttons on either side, the researchers presented a series of slides to the elephants. The idea was, when the researcher presented a white slide, the elephant was supposed to push the right button, and when the researcher presented a barred slide, the elephant was supposed to push the left button. Each correct response earned the elephant a sugar cube delivered down a tube by the researcher."The slides were presented at random so the elephants could not discern a pattern. Once an elephant got 20 correct responses, the trial concluded and the elephant no longer received sugar cubes. Some elephants figured out the routine quickly, while others struggled. In time, all of the elephants mastered the test. Several years later, the researchers were curious as to whether the elephants remembered. They retested the same elephants. Not surprisingly, three of the four elephants remembered and almost immediately got 20 correct responses. But Pet labored over the trials. She would get 12 correct then make an error, 14 correct then make another error, 12 correct the next day, 17 the next, 18 the next, then back to 13. There really wasn't any pattern to her success or failure, according to Keele."'One of the researchers told me how smart the other three elephants were,' Keele recalls. 'But poor Pet, he said - she just didn't have everything in order upstairs. I told him to look at it from Pet's point of view. She'd learned how to do this several years before: Once she hit 20 correct responses, the sugar cubes stopped coming. I told him that I doubted that she would ever get 20 correct again - after all, look how many more sugar cubes she'd scored than her "smart" classmates!'"(The same elephant pictured above.)We are lucky to be able to share the planet with such magnificent creatures. Pet, thanks for being such a wonderful presence and teaching us a thing or two besides.The moral of the story?Never mess with a woman's access to sugar!Wanda Tucker, Coach
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Thursday, August 10, 2006
In this system, the Seniors teach the Juniors, and the Juniors teach the Newbies. (I am not sure whether Abby would be considered a Senior or a Junior.) I like the way it works. Having been a teacher for years, I know that a good way to reinforce one's own learning is to teach someone else. It is also a model of service and a way to build camaraderie. Even though the only thing I know about most of the people there is their first names, I walk away from class feeling connected to them all.
So, Abby and I practiced ad infinitum. I sweated. I got it sometimes. I had brain farts sometimes. And we just kept going. Her encouragement got in.
I'd miss a couple moves and stop. "I can do this," I'd say.
"You are doing it," says Abby.
And I was! Sometimes clumsy. Sometimes like I actually had the flow. "I'm doing it, " I'd say--not out loud, but in my head. "Yes. I'm doing it."
I don't think I bruised her. She already had a bruise on her arm from Monday night's class. Fortunately, I didn't get whacked tonight. Thank you, Abby for having control in your strike. It isn't a matter of if I'll get hit. It is a matter of when. I am glad it wasn't tonight.
I am still the newest kid in class--twice the age (at least) of everyone except Master Michael and one other guy. And I'm getting it!
Woohoo! I can do this.
Beginner's success. Please, share a success of yours with me. I'd love to hear.
Wanda Tucker, Coach
PS - In the article, the second picture is Master Michael (facing the camera) and Grand Master Rob. In the third picture, you can see Grand Master Rob's face. And in the first picture, that might be Abby on the left in the green shirt.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
I went to my third class last Wednesday. Master Michael is wonderful and patient and kind. The other students are generous and understanding and willing to be helpful. I worked with Mark and Chuck. Both of them gave me great help.
At the end of the class, I felt discouraged. I don't really know why. I am getting it. My form is improving, albeit slowly. I guess what I experienced was a prison of my own making. I was hard on myself.
But what do I expect? It was only the third class, for crying out loud.
You see, I am not used to being the new kid. I am used to being the one that others come to for help. I am used to being the one who knows what is going on. I am used to being the teacher and coach.
I gotta tell you...as much as part of me doesn't like being the newbie and not having it all together, this is a very important part of the learning curve for me. Being humble without shame is so important. Just because I can't do it all yet (humble in my limitations) doesn't mean there is something wrong with me (shame).
Being and doing are happening simultaneously and continuously to each of us. When our performance (doing) has not yet reached mastery, that is no reflection on our personal worth (being). At times, we need to improve our actions (as in developing beginner's form at martial arts into something more precise, or even in becoming kinder in interactions with others), yet we still deserve to receive positive strokes for who we are--our essence.
When is the last time you were a beginner? Have you had a recent experience of humility? Were you tempted to fall into shame? Whether you fell into the pit, climbed the mountain, or walked the razor's edge between humility and shame, tell me about it. I'd love to hear.
Wanda Tucker, Coach
PS - All the pictures are mine taken by me.
PPS - The little girl in the kennel got in there by herself, sat and played for a long time, and got out by herself. No one put her there against her will. As for her crying, I don't remember now why she did, but it passed as quickly as it came on. I think she was tired.
- ▼ August (12)