Summer Beauty (Acrylic on Tile by Barbie Dallmann)
I know I’m supposed to be an enlightened, got-it-all-together coach type person, but this morning when my iPod wouldn’t turn on, an enraged control-freak grabbed the reins and took over.
“Piece of s**t iPod! I’m the boss of you, and I say, WORK!”
She Googled “dead iPod” and followed the directions for a reset. Nothing. She plugged it into a wall socket and tried again. Nada. She cajoled, caressed, lightly pressed buttons, and then slammed it on the sink. Still nothing but a trashed iPod.
“So, now I can’t go for my morning run!” declared this stubborn, irritated, acting-like-a-child part of me.
From somewhere deep inside Coach Barbie whispered in that irritatingly calm voice of hers, “Is that true? You can’t run without an iPod?”
A heavy sigh accompanied a defiant response, “No, it’s not true. I can run without an iPod … but I don’t want to!”
“Is that true?” she asked again. “You don’t want to run? You’re all dressed and ready to go. You love morning runs. Is it true you don’t want to run?”
“No . . . but still . . . ,” she whined, losing bravado. And then she left the house, and as I gained my stride, the resistant, negative, stubborn part of me began to dissolve, and I allowed myself to compassionately observe what had just happened.
Something didn’t go my way, and I resisted. I made it wrong. I fought reality with everything I could muster. I was looking for everything that was wrong about the situation … the money, the time, the inconvenience, the lost activity records … not to mention that I have no clue where I left off in the audio book I was listening to.
Before I had the tools to process this sort of thing, I would have been caught in a negative spiral for hours, maybe days. But with the simple question, “What’s right about this?” I was able to use my entire run this morning to find the good.
And the best thing I found was a memory of my 12-year-old self on vacation with my family. There was no room for me in the cab, so I rode alone in the camper on the back of the pick-up. From Nebraska through Wyoming, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, Colorado, and home again. For a month, I rode alone with no iPod, no video games, no laptop, no cell phone. Just me, a few books, and my endless imagination. I lost myself in the scenery and entertained myself with stories of what my life would be like when I was grown up and on my own. I imagined going to work, buying a car, marrying my sweetheart, moving into a house, and giving birth to a baby. I day-dreamed a happy life for myself, full of freedom and beauty and travel.
One very good thing about not having an iPod (especially when you’re 12) is it gives you lots of time to work on manifesting a life worth living.
Coach Barbie Dallmann 
Life for a 12 year old without an iPod and cell phone would be considered deprived and depraved these days! However that ride in the cab of the camper would be downright child abuse! Funny that what this brings to mind is how we all survived crammed into cars with no seat belts, riding in the back of pick ups yelling our fool heads off, bicycling full speed down hills with no helmets and not holding on…. I’m not saying it’s right by any means. However what IS right about it is that we survived and had an amazing experience different from our children and their children. Not unlike our parents who walked 5 miles to school in the snow and even home for lunch 🙂 Life is grand. Thanks for sharing.
You’re so right, Cate. Each generation has its own culture. With things changing with such speed, it’s a wonder we even speak the same language as our kids. Oh, wait … I don’t think we do. LOL!! OMG!! WTF?