Sometimes the people I pick to be in my life make me spin. A couple blocks over from Central Park: I assure you I wanted to desperately talk her into running. But, she loves this spinning class and as it turns out, the time spinning is actually what a burning question I’ve been wrestling with took me going to, to answer. During this spin class, with a new teacher-friend that I met while studying at Columbia, is what it took to untangle my thoughts surrounding a question I had been presented just recently by……..a person.
It’s clear: we are who we surround ourselves with.
Since I’m in, “the Big Apple” it seems fitting to think about the people in my life as apples. I’ve always picked pretty good life apples. I’ve got a daughter who is the apple of my eye. I’ve got different colored apples. I’ve got a lot of sweet apples and for better or for worse I’ve got some tart ones too. I’ve got some apples in my basket that have been bruised and may have some marks. Yet fortunately, I have more apples that are shiny and despite any flaws are beautiful.
I’ve been fortunate to have only picked one apple that went bad.
Now, before picking any more apples for my basket though, I’m very careful these days to be picky, picky, picky. And this is what I have struggled with. I’ve been struggling with feeling guilty about this; but just like different running routes, some are better than others. So I chose to pick those that are better.
As I sat listening to an expert teacher today talk about the teacher moves of a lesson, I was paralyzed as I experienced an “ahhhh hah” moment upon hearing her share her inside voice with us. She stopped to tell us that as she was listening to her students, gathering information about how to best teach them so they could make the most from the time with her in order to transfer their learning into their own independent successful work: best, most, and success began playing over-again-and-again in mind. These three words stayed with me all day and as I ran around Central Park and while Soul Cycling with a new friend I realized those words too are my three precious indicators I’m searching for…..in life.
I’ve come, in my own time, in my own way, to Columbia to study so I can bring those three words to my profession and I am picky about my life apples because I want to bring those three words into my life as well.
I chose to surround myself professionally with other teachers who are also striving to be their own best. Who give their “most” to their students, wanting to scaffold them towards successes. I surround myself with runners who are the most positive, the best company and who want nothing but to work hard in order for their own selves to be successful but want and support their running friends to success as well.
And I have friends. I am very – very lucky to be surrounded with friends who can be described by those three words ….. plus one more.
The one other thing that is common to all the apples in my basket: loyalty.
I can in no way have apples in my basket that are not loyal. That sentence could really be the end of my story, because without loyalty you don’t belong….at least in my basket. We are who we surround ourselves with and though I hold a special place in my heart for forgiveness; that doesn’t mean you get any extra space in my basket. I can’t surround myself with people who are unwilling to be loyal. Sometimes in life you do have to pick and picking can be tough, but picking also shows what you stand for. Picking means you have non-negotiables in your life that you value enough to keep in tact by only surrounding yourself with those whom share the value. And not picking – is actually picking.
So as I spun and my thoughts were spinning; I realized that No, no I can’t have you in my basket if you don’t pick what aligns to my values, what’s going to be healthy for me, what is going to keep letting my heart heal and not what would keep the wound open. I pick friends who are loyal, I pick loyal teachers, I pick loyal runners….I pick those willing to be picky and in return; I value tremendously anyone who picks me.
Groovy Girls Go……….Picky