05/27/2022
I worked as a trial attorney for 14 years.
(Don’t worry, you’ll get that full story another time.)
For most of those 14 years, I kept a post-it note on my office computer monitor that said, simply, “Show, Don’t Tell.” It lived right in my line of vision every day that I worked. Each time the glue on one post-it note gave way and let the yellow square flutter down to my desk, I rewrote the phrase on another one and replaced it immediately.
When I began this habit, the phrase meant two things to me:
* Don’t TELL a trial jury about what happened to the victim in my case, SHOW them through evidence.
* Don’t TELL anyone how competent/dedicated/effective I am at my job, let my work SHOW it.
Over time, though, I found this straightforward instruction applies in so many scenarios:
* It’s more important to live my values than to announce them.
* I can tell my people I love them, but how much more meaningful if I demonstrate it?
* Don’t get too invested in the early promises of new friendships and relationships, let trust build through action and shared experiences
* To quote The King, “A little less conversation, a little more action.”
These days, I use my tagline to succinctly describe the way I allow Mother Nature and my yoga mat to teach my cognitive brain new habits and possibilities.
I’m blessed and cursed with a brain that is wired to expect the worst, and to expect that the worst is going to happen because I’m deficient or I’m going to mess everything up. I lived years with the feeling of extreme relief every time I succeeded, rather than respect for the grace and hard work that got me there.
It takes work to rewrite internal scripts like that, and I still do the hard work of interrupting and replacing the words in my head. But that’s just the TELLING, and it’s not the whole story.
Stay tuned for tomorrow’s walk-and-talk (it’s just going to be a thing) for the way we can use our yoga practice to SHOW ourselves that those old scripts aren’t so true.