The Size of Your Dreams, - [good books for high schoolers txt] 📗
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The whole notecard exercise was supposed to take only five minutes a day, but by the time five minutes had passed, I hadn’t even begun. The first words, the ones that got Jarod laughing, just wouldn’t come out.
This is crazy. They were so simple, and no one could hear.
Hell, if I couldn’t speak them to myself, how could I ever hope to speak like this to anyone else?
OK, I’m going to do it. Count of three. 1, 2, 3. I looked up, caught my eyes, and whispered, “I love you, Kelvin,” then quickly sank to the floor.
And there I was, again, crumpled on cold bathroom tiles, crying like a baby.
Why did this hurt so much?
If Jarod did it, he’d quickly say “I love you Jarod” like it was nothing. Would it be so much easier for him because he wouldn’t take the assignment seriously, or because he simply loved himself more? For some reason, this thought got me angry. I hit the floor, punched the wall. Stop being such a loser!
I turned to the list on my notecard, but the words were a blur. I wiped my eyes and tried again.
I stood, faced the mirror, and forced myself to hold steady. Ignore the zits. Focus on what’s inside, on what matters.
The first trait on my card was generosity. I said, “You, Kelvin are generous.” That part was easy—the rest was not. I vividly recalled the bizarre dialog in class when Mr. Griffin had explained all of this.
Jarod raised his hand but didn’t wait to be called on to speak. “Why is Kelvin talking to himself in the third person? Why say, “You are generous, rather than I am generous?”
“Even more than the Outcome Cards, the Identity Cards work on the subconscious level,” Mr. Griffin replied. “The third person allows you greater separation from your own baggage, and so it resonates in your mind more like an objective, outside opinion. It’s speaking in the language of the subconscious, which leads me to the next step. Kelvin, you‘ll need to state three reasons why you know your statement is true.”
“Why?” Jarod asked.
“Because evidence is the building block of belief. Each day of your lives you’ve seen the sun rise, so by now you believe with your full heart that it will rise again tomorrow.”
“What does that have to do with Kelvin?” Darnell asked.
“If he keeps feeding his mind evidence that he’s generous, he’ll come to believe it as fact. It will become a core part of his identity, of how he sees himself.”
“So each day I have to come up with new evidence?” I asked.
“Ideally. That doesn’t mean you can never repeat something you’ve used before. But the more evidence you provide, the more you hammer it in.”
So now I needed evidence of my generosity. My mind went to my three classmates. I’d helped them all, hadn’t I?
I looked back at the mirror. “You, Kelvin, are generous. You made two flyers for Jarod, you made a video for Christy, and you helped get Darnell a treadmill.”
That went OK, but the next step was ridiculous.
“Once you’ve listed off the evidence,” Mr. Griffin had said, “I want you to come up with a new nickname.”
“A nickname?” I asked.
“Yes. You’ll say, ‘In fact, you’re so generous, you’re really…,’ and then you have to plug in a nickname that encapsulates that trait.”
“Like a superhero?”
“Precisely. We’re looking for an emotional anchor for this trait in your subconscious. The more fun you make it, the more it will stick. For instance, I could say that I’m a ‘builder of successful businesses,’ but that’s boring. So I call myself a ‘success doctor.’ I’m also a love machine, an ironman, and a host of other things that I say to myself each day.”
I stared at myself in the mirror. I just had to get through this. “In fact, you’re so generous, you’re really…”
Really what? I needed something fun, something that would encapsulate my generosity. But if I was ever in a not-fun mood, it was now. What could I say? A tap-tap reverberated through the bathroom. “Kelvin?” my mother called. “Is everything OK?”
Though my heart thumped, she probably hadn’t heard me crying or punching the walls. But I had been in here for an awfully long time. Plus, she’d seen my social media post, even responded to it, so she knew something was going on. “Yeah, Mom, everything’s fine.”
“Alright, honey….Let me know if you need me.” Her footsteps grew quiet as she returned to her room.
I had to get through this card and out of the bathroom already.
I tried again. “In fact, you’re so generous, you’re really…Captain Generous.”
OK, it was lame, and I knew it. I’d try to do better tomorrow. But the words nonetheless made me giggle.
Onto the next trait. “Kelvin, you are sensitive.” This one was harder. What had I done that was sensitive? I’d said supportive things to Darnell when he started taping numbers on his chest, rather than making fun of him like others did. Also, I’d cried when telling myself ‘I love you.’ I guess that was sensitivity. What else?
It took me an hour before I’d gone through all the traits on the card. Worse, I was spent. Who knew that talking to yourself could be so draining? I flopped on my bed and passed out, still fully dressed, shoes and all.
Risk and Reward
Reading the cards the next morning went much faster. It had to, or I would have been late for school. Ahh…the power of deadlines.
On Wednesdays, Darnell and I had lunch together. All he had on his tray were an undressed salad and an apple. I kept my bologna sandwich half hidden from him behind my thermos, as if that would make a difference.
“Down to 235 I see. Wow, that’s like a pound a day.”
“Yeah.” He grinned, but his voice was flat. His grin collapsed as he looked at his salad.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“Kinda…but no pain, no gain, right?” Darnell pulled out his card and read it to himself before taking a bite out of his apple.
“How do you know if it’s too much pain?”
“I dunno. I just wanna hit the goal on my card.” He put the card away and wiped his forehead. “I can suck it up for another few days. I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?”
* * *
Christy burst into fifth period, cheering that her team won their latest swim meet, making them 3-0 for the season.
I didn’t want to offer a report. I wasn’t embarrassed to share—I wouldn’t tell them the full details of my break down. It’s just that I still didn’t get the point of what I was doing and definitely didn’t believe the words I was saying. So maybe it was embarrassment. I felt like the loser in class with the dork assignment.
Fortunately, Jarod had news. “I reached this guy, Bill. He runs a big landscaping business a couple of towns over. He didn’t have a lot of time for me, but he offered me a deal.”
“What’s the deal?” Mr. Griffin asked.
“He says he’s got a big job he’s working this Saturday. He can use another set of capable hands. If I’m willing to come work the full day for nothing, then I can ask him as many questions as I like while we work.”
“What did you say?”
“I wanted to think about it but didn’t tell him that. So I told him I’ve got a job that I’d see if I could move to another time. I’m supposed to get back to him with an answer today.”
“Why the hesitation?”
“I’ve got my own jobs I can be working Saturday and actually get paid. I can push them off a day, but that means I’ll be working like a dog on Sunday. No doubt Bill will work me hard on Saturday too, and he expects me to do the entire thing for free.”
“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind. Why didn’t you tell him ‘no’ on the spot?”
“Truthfully, I wanted to wait until I spoke with you, Mr. Griffin. Do you think I’d be making a mistake?”
Wow. Jarod seeking out the advice of a teacher? These cards were certainly having an effect on him.
Mr. Griffin smiled. “You really want to know what I think?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I think you’d be making a giant mistake.”
“So you think I should work for free?”
“Free? Absolutely not.”
“So what do I do? Go back and see if he’ll pay me for the day?”
“No, his offer was clear. Take him up on his offer and don’t ask for any money for your work.”
Jarod laughed. “Didn’t you just say I shouldn’t work for free?”
“No one’s asking you to. Never be afraid to give value to get value. He’s offering you something potentially far more valuable than money: his advice.”
Jarod crossed his arms. “How do I know what that’s worth?”
“You don’t.”
“Sooo…”
“There’s a concept I want you all to learn called Asymmetrical Risk/ Reward.”
“You finally gonna teach us some math?” Jarod asked.
“Not exactly. Asymmetrical Risk/Reward means you want to put yourself in situations where you risk little to potentially gain much.”
“Like betting on long shots?” Jarod asked.
“No, more like betting on favorites with long shot odds.”
“They never give that option at the track,” Jarod said.
“No, they don’t. The tracks and the casinos will always stack the odds against you, whether you’re betting on favorites or long shots. But in life, odds can vary greatly.”
“Like how?” Christy asked.
“You experienced two opposite examples of Asymmetrical Risk/Reward, Christy, when you lost a swim coach, and then when you gained a new one.”
“I don’t follow,” she said.
“You lost your coach to a drunk driver. Getting behind the wheel when he’d been drinking put the driver and others at tremendous risk. Yet the reward, the pleasure of a few drinks, was minimal.”
Christy recoiled.
“Then you found a great new coach by calling the top swim coaches in the world. The risk was negligible—it only took a few hours of your time—but the rewards were tremendous.”
Jarod pursed his lips. “So you’re saying that my risk here is just a day of lost wages. If Bill has nothing valuable to teach me, then I’ve worked for nothing, which is no big deal. But if he has something worthwhile to share, if he can help me reach my goal, then I could eventually make thousands of dollars from that one day’s work.”
Mr. Griffin nodded. “Ask any successful business person how much their biggest mistakes have cost them. You’ll be shocked by the numbers they give. If you can learn from another’s mistakes, you can save yourself years of hardship. The flip side is also true. It probably took him years to learn his most profitable lessons. And you can get all that for one day of sweat.”
Jarod pulled out his phone. “I’ll do it.”
* * *
I continued reading my cards twice a day, checking off the app each time. While it was never quite easy, I didn’t break down like I had that first time. I became more creative with my nicknames and started to enjoy the exercise. Captain Generosity gave way to Generosity Man, which didn’t sound quite as cool, but at least had a theme song (“generosity man, generosity man, giving all that generosity can”). And then there was Sensitivity Superstar, which made me think of the Emmy’s.
That Friday night, I babysat again. I asked Megan what kind of pizza she wanted, though
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