This week as Ben and I were waiting for an appointment, he introduced me to some of Chris Hadfield’s videos from his time in the International Space Station. These are short little clips of astronaut extraordinaire, Chris Hadfield, doing everyday little things in space. In one he shows us how he brushes his teeth, he makes a peanut butter sandwich in another, and in yet another he wrings out a water soaked cloth.
Ben is fascinated by these, as am I. It’s the first time I’ve seen the intricacies of space presented in such and interesting and easy to understand way. For me, NOT a science geek, to be so enthralled is a first.
This week, while I haven’t spent any time at all thinking about the possibility of me going into space, I have spent some time thinking about firsts, and being first.
It’s an obsession our society seems inflicted with, this being first thing. When I was growing up, the entire world watched, collective breath held, as we waited to see who would be first in space. Would it be the Soviet Cosmonauts, or our neighbours, the American Astronauts. Then, I suppose out of fear that one side or the other would certainly not be first, the contest broke into several sub-contests. Who would be first to get to the moon? Who would be first to land on the moon? Who would walk on the moon first? And in later years who might re-enter the atmosphere and land more like a plane rather than splashing down in the ocean?
History, ancient and modern, is filled with stories of humans and their quest to be first. Today we read stories about incredible feats of firsts; the first person to fly solo around the earth, the first woman to fly a plane, the first free standing tower with an observation deck at the top, the first freeze dried food, the first antibiotic, the first person to earn one billion dollars, the first basketball/soccer/hockey player to reach a milestone in the statistics of their sport, the first woman to run an official marathon.
We breed this into our children, this idea of being first. Who will be the ‘first’ to smile, walk, talk, bike, run or read. Some kids couldn’t care less. Life for them unfolds according to their own schedule and they don’t pay much heed to the pressure of others. Other kids would not even hesitate to knock over a few playmates on their way to being first at the water fountain or being first in the recess line.
When I was in my final year of high school, all my friends were talking about university. Jane wanted law school, Tracy was headed for medicine, Jan was intrigued with Urban and Regional Planning. I had never really considered a life beyond high school. High school graduation was the goal in my family. The more I listened to my friends, the more I wondered if university might be a possibility for me too.
However, there was one major hurdle. My parents were not enthralled at the possibility. I hadn’t exactly asked them outright, but I’d sat through enough conversations, possibly lectures, at the dinner table where Dad, a factory worker, shared his disgust at ‘these guys’ they brought into the boiler room, ‘these guys’ with fancy degrees, most of whom 'couldn’t even change a tire'. We all knew for sure that a university degree was a lot of money to spend to not even learn to change a tire.
When I summoned up the courage to ask my parents if I could go to University of Waterloo to study Math, the response was not a flat out no, but it was lukewarm at best. I believe it was, ‘If that’s what you think you need to do. You know we can’t help you.’ I have no idea what gave me the courage to push forward, to order the calendar from which to select my courses, to figure out housing and my schedule, and apply and be accepted. I suspect knowing my friends were doing the same thing as they applied for their programs, normalized it somewhat. But for a girl who was NEVER called a rebel, it was a huge step for me. My parents could not help me financially, but they did sit with the large book of courses and tried to help me sift through the ones I needed to take. And of course, Dad taught me to change my tires.
For me, the goal was simply to study Math, and to become a Math teacher. An unintended consequence was that I became the first member of my family to attend university, and perhaps even better, in doing to, to reassure Dad that I was not going to think I was too good for them anymore. That, in fact, was his unspoken worry; that I’d outgrow our farm and our family. It turned out, he became proud of me, and I never outgrew either the farm or family.
I've never had a burning desire to be first.
But.
I do have a great admiration for those who dare to walk through fear to reach a goal, sometimes becoming first in the process.
At this stage of life, I’m not in a hurry to be first at many things. I’m not in a hurry to reach the end of my life first. I’m not in a hurry to be first in most lines. I’m not in a hurry to be first to stop doing activities I love. I’m not in a hurry to stop trying new things. And I’m not in a hurry to be the first to try every single new thing.
There are so many ways we can be first. When Ben and I sat and watched Chris Hadfield, it was completely apparent that Mr. Hadfield is passionate about what he does. I do not believe he chose the exploration of space so he could wear a blue, first place ribbon, on his chest. I do not believe he chose to create videos so he could claim he was the first to make them. I think he chose his passion, space exploration, because he simply loved it, and then he fully committed to it. The part where he became first, was simply a lovely side effect.
I hope I too can be passionate enough about who I strive to be, that I’ll have the bravery needed to be follow those passions and in doing so to perhaps accidentally become first at some things. I hope I can be brave enough to be the first to apologize when it’s needed. I hope I can be the first to encourage someone else, even if it means they end up ‘better than me’. I hope I can be the first to say, ‘I’ll help’, or ‘How are you?’. I hope I’m first to open my heart to new adventures and new friends, and also to be the first to be grateful for the relationships that have served me so well thus far in my life.
My inquiry for you this week is, ‘How am I being first?’
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to be first.
Ben is fascinated by these, as am I. It’s the first time I’ve seen the intricacies of space presented in such and interesting and easy to understand way. For me, NOT a science geek, to be so enthralled is a first.
This week, while I haven’t spent any time at all thinking about the possibility of me going into space, I have spent some time thinking about firsts, and being first.
It’s an obsession our society seems inflicted with, this being first thing. When I was growing up, the entire world watched, collective breath held, as we waited to see who would be first in space. Would it be the Soviet Cosmonauts, or our neighbours, the American Astronauts. Then, I suppose out of fear that one side or the other would certainly not be first, the contest broke into several sub-contests. Who would be first to get to the moon? Who would be first to land on the moon? Who would walk on the moon first? And in later years who might re-enter the atmosphere and land more like a plane rather than splashing down in the ocean?
History, ancient and modern, is filled with stories of humans and their quest to be first. Today we read stories about incredible feats of firsts; the first person to fly solo around the earth, the first woman to fly a plane, the first free standing tower with an observation deck at the top, the first freeze dried food, the first antibiotic, the first person to earn one billion dollars, the first basketball/soccer/hockey player to reach a milestone in the statistics of their sport, the first woman to run an official marathon.
We breed this into our children, this idea of being first. Who will be the ‘first’ to smile, walk, talk, bike, run or read. Some kids couldn’t care less. Life for them unfolds according to their own schedule and they don’t pay much heed to the pressure of others. Other kids would not even hesitate to knock over a few playmates on their way to being first at the water fountain or being first in the recess line.
When I was in my final year of high school, all my friends were talking about university. Jane wanted law school, Tracy was headed for medicine, Jan was intrigued with Urban and Regional Planning. I had never really considered a life beyond high school. High school graduation was the goal in my family. The more I listened to my friends, the more I wondered if university might be a possibility for me too.
However, there was one major hurdle. My parents were not enthralled at the possibility. I hadn’t exactly asked them outright, but I’d sat through enough conversations, possibly lectures, at the dinner table where Dad, a factory worker, shared his disgust at ‘these guys’ they brought into the boiler room, ‘these guys’ with fancy degrees, most of whom 'couldn’t even change a tire'. We all knew for sure that a university degree was a lot of money to spend to not even learn to change a tire.
When I summoned up the courage to ask my parents if I could go to University of Waterloo to study Math, the response was not a flat out no, but it was lukewarm at best. I believe it was, ‘If that’s what you think you need to do. You know we can’t help you.’ I have no idea what gave me the courage to push forward, to order the calendar from which to select my courses, to figure out housing and my schedule, and apply and be accepted. I suspect knowing my friends were doing the same thing as they applied for their programs, normalized it somewhat. But for a girl who was NEVER called a rebel, it was a huge step for me. My parents could not help me financially, but they did sit with the large book of courses and tried to help me sift through the ones I needed to take. And of course, Dad taught me to change my tires.
For me, the goal was simply to study Math, and to become a Math teacher. An unintended consequence was that I became the first member of my family to attend university, and perhaps even better, in doing to, to reassure Dad that I was not going to think I was too good for them anymore. That, in fact, was his unspoken worry; that I’d outgrow our farm and our family. It turned out, he became proud of me, and I never outgrew either the farm or family.
I've never had a burning desire to be first.
But.
I do have a great admiration for those who dare to walk through fear to reach a goal, sometimes becoming first in the process.
At this stage of life, I’m not in a hurry to be first at many things. I’m not in a hurry to reach the end of my life first. I’m not in a hurry to be first in most lines. I’m not in a hurry to be first to stop doing activities I love. I’m not in a hurry to stop trying new things. And I’m not in a hurry to be the first to try every single new thing.
There are so many ways we can be first. When Ben and I sat and watched Chris Hadfield, it was completely apparent that Mr. Hadfield is passionate about what he does. I do not believe he chose the exploration of space so he could wear a blue, first place ribbon, on his chest. I do not believe he chose to create videos so he could claim he was the first to make them. I think he chose his passion, space exploration, because he simply loved it, and then he fully committed to it. The part where he became first, was simply a lovely side effect.
I hope I too can be passionate enough about who I strive to be, that I’ll have the bravery needed to be follow those passions and in doing so to perhaps accidentally become first at some things. I hope I can be brave enough to be the first to apologize when it’s needed. I hope I can be the first to encourage someone else, even if it means they end up ‘better than me’. I hope I can be the first to say, ‘I’ll help’, or ‘How are you?’. I hope I’m first to open my heart to new adventures and new friends, and also to be the first to be grateful for the relationships that have served me so well thus far in my life.
My inquiry for you this week is, ‘How am I being first?’
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to be first.
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