Add a dot-dot-dot.
Sounds snappy.
But how? How can we really do that? Right as we’re falling, as we’re feeling it, as we’re looking up at the light disappearing above us, how? What is the tool we can use to try to put this theory into practice?
Well, it comes down to adding one word to our vocabularies.
It’s the word I heard my mom use over and over growing up.
And the word is “yet.”
“Yet” is the magic word to add to any sentence that we begin with “I can’t,” “I’m not,” or “I don’t.”
Wait! Yuck! Who talks like this? Who is that negative? Well, we all do this. We do! We declare things about ourselves to ourselves. We issue proclamations!
Pitch gets rejected? “I’m not creative.”
Cut from the team? “I’m not good at sports.”
Bad blood test from the lab? “I don’t take care of myself.”
And it’s not only when we’re falling, either.
Our negative talk is even more insidious when we’re just moving through the motions. Just walking down the path. Painting in the paint-by-numbers. Hopscotching the chalky boxes.
Why get married if you’re not in love?
“I can’t meet new people.”
Why put yourself last as you take care of someone you love?
“I don’t have any better options.”
Why go to law school if you don’t want to?
“I’m no good at anything else.”
We talk like this. And every time we do, we’re inserting periods at the ends of sentences that we might have kept going.
I use my mom’s story to show how easy it would have been for her to just stop and give up, to shut off the taps. It’s much harder to keep the taps on. It’s harder to add a “yet” to the end of a self-judgment.
How does the magic word look in practice?
“I can’t meet new people… yet.”
“I don’t have any better options… yet.”
“I’m not good at anything else… yet.”
“I don’t waltz… yet.”
When we gain the courage to add a “yet” to statements about ourselves, we leave our options open. Adding the word “yet” is empowering. It wedges a little question mark into the negative certainty we hold on to so fiercely in our minds. It lets us hold both ideas. The idea that we can’t. And! The idea that we can.
It leaves the door open.
It adds a “To be continued…”
Growing up, my mom never let her story finish.
And over the years ahead she continued to face many challenges. Sudden onset mental illness. The shocking death of her closest sister. Many moments where she could have closed things off with a period. But she always added a dot-dot-dot instead.
This is the first step to building resilience as you’re falling.
Resilience is being able to see that tiny little sliver of light between the door and the frame just after you hear the latch click.
Prom invite shot down? I haven’t got a date… yet.
Passed over for promotion? I’m not a manager… yet.
Cholesterol way out of whack? I don’t exercise… yet.
My mom never added a period in the brand new continent she found herself living in in her midtwenties.
“This doesn’t feel like home… yet.”
She never added a period in the arranged marriage her family ushered her into.
“I don’t know this man… yet.”
She never added a period at the boarding school where she was asked to pray to a new God in a new religion in a new language.
“I’m not confident at this school… yet.”
She never added a period when she was born the fifth girl in a family praying for a fourth boy.
“I don’t know what I’ll do… yet.”
Setbacks didn’t kill her spirit.
She just saw that sliver of light.
So when you feel like you’re falling, don’t just end the sentence.
Add a dot-dot-dot instead…