Last week was a special one for little Benjamin. His Grammie arrived from Nova Scotia for a week long visit. I am the local grandma, and I am lucky to have lots of visits with this little precious grandson of ours. I was thrilled that his other Grammie got to share in the joy last week. I was invited to have dinner with Benjamin’s family and his Grammie on Sunday evening. Before supper, she and I sat on the back deck and watched little Ben as he maneuvered in and out of his pint-sized lawn chair, moved his precious stones out of the empty planter, on to the deck and then back to the planter. Once he tired of that he struck off across the lawn to a small tree. He went to the far side of it and discovered that if he stood directly behind it, then moved his head to the side, we would disappear from his sight for a second as his eyes passed by the tree trunk. When he ‘came into view’ again, we would say, ‘Peek – a – boo!’. He thought this was utterly wonderful!
Ben had no idea we could see him the whole time, and of course it did not matter. He was thrilled at being able to go out of sight, but he was even more thrilled at being seen again.
It isn’t only one-year-olds who appreciate being seen.
The day before the grandmother reunion, I stopped into a local bike shop where I had had some work done on my bike. I had the chain and rear cassette replaced in the late winter as I had been cautioned that it was at 100% use. After it was replaced, the bike mechanic told me it was possible it would need some fine tuning, and that I’d need to take it out for a couple of rides to see if it was grinding or slipping when changing gears.
After taking it on the road a couple of times, there was clearly a clunking sound, so I took it back in for a quick adjustment. Again, the same advice was given to me; it might need another adjustment once I had ridden it a few times. Sure enough, after two fairly respectable rides of 50 and 60km, most of the grinding was gone, except for some rubbing when I went into my bottom three or four gears on the rear cassette. So back I went.
When I went to pick up the bike, I met a new mechanic. He had not made any adjustment yet and asked what I had heard when I was biking. I told him. He invited me back to see my bike, and mentioned he wanted to show me something. I’m not an expert on fixing bikes so I was pleased to think I would learn something new.
Not so fast.
He began by slowly and carefully explaining how the front derailleur works (I have to admit, I did not know how to spell derailleur, but I sure did know how it worked.) Then he continued to use his slow and careful tone in asking me what I thought it meant to shift into low gear. I’m sure my face was not as neutral as I was trying to make it. In truth, I was insulted, frustrated and plain old mad. I have ridden this bike for thousands of kilometres. It’s true, I have never been in the Tour de France, but I think I’m a decent cyclist. And, I do know what it means to shift into a low gear. Imagine. I’ve found my low gears really helpful when I’m climbing mountains. And yes, I’m a middle-aged woman. Clearly, one who he thought needed things explained very slowly and clearly.
It isn’t only one-year-olds who appreciate being seen.
The day after the day after the bike incident, I was talking on the phone with Ruth, the photographer who has agreed to do a professional photo shoot for me. I’d like to update my website and I’ve never had professional photos done for my business. I was worried about the shoot. I was feeling reluctant, afraid, self-conscious, and a bit shy. Ruth had asked me to think about some words or qualities I would like most see portrayed in my images. Ruth explained that she had been taught that if you don’t ‘know it’, you won’t ‘see it’. I had been mulling over what I might say to Ruth when we chatted. I told her that often when I see a picture of myself, I don’t think it accurately portrays what I thought I was portraying. I said that my smile often looks like I’m holding a little something back. Ruth said she had noticed this, and she had noticed that sometimes it looks like there is almost a hint of a question in my smile. As soon as she said this, I felt a huge relief.
It isn’t only one-year-olds who appreciate being seen.
Ruth had been able to see me. She understood what I have on the inside of me that I want to have seen on the outside. I am at a place in my life where I don’t want to hold back, or feel that I need to. I don’t want to have to question my abilities or my worth. Ruth saw this.
Seeing someone is one of the most wonderful gifts we can give them. Each of us wants to be seen, really seen, for what we believe we are. It is such a feeling of home when someone ‘gets’ us. When they see qualities in us that are important to us. When they see past the generalizations and stereotypes that are also clearly available for easy viewing. It may not be overstating it to say that until we believe we are seen, we can never truly step into our most confident, authentic selves.
On Saturday, when I was sitting with little Ben’s Grammie, we were both able to easily see Ben. He, of course, is not yet at an age when he has learned to hold any pieces of himself back. I hope we will always be two people in his life who see him. Not just see that he is a toddler or a teenager, but really see the qualities inside him that let him know we know him, we believe in him and we are there to support him.
When April (Grammie) and I hugged goodbye, she whispered in my ear, “They’re doing such a great job, aren’t they?” “They sure are”, I replied, both of us with tears in our eyes. She clearly knows how to see.
My inquiry for you this week is, “What needs to be seen?”
Elizabeth is a certified, professional Life and 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 and personal coaching for individuals and teams. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to sharpen your tool of seeing others.
Ben had no idea we could see him the whole time, and of course it did not matter. He was thrilled at being able to go out of sight, but he was even more thrilled at being seen again.
It isn’t only one-year-olds who appreciate being seen.
The day before the grandmother reunion, I stopped into a local bike shop where I had had some work done on my bike. I had the chain and rear cassette replaced in the late winter as I had been cautioned that it was at 100% use. After it was replaced, the bike mechanic told me it was possible it would need some fine tuning, and that I’d need to take it out for a couple of rides to see if it was grinding or slipping when changing gears.
After taking it on the road a couple of times, there was clearly a clunking sound, so I took it back in for a quick adjustment. Again, the same advice was given to me; it might need another adjustment once I had ridden it a few times. Sure enough, after two fairly respectable rides of 50 and 60km, most of the grinding was gone, except for some rubbing when I went into my bottom three or four gears on the rear cassette. So back I went.
When I went to pick up the bike, I met a new mechanic. He had not made any adjustment yet and asked what I had heard when I was biking. I told him. He invited me back to see my bike, and mentioned he wanted to show me something. I’m not an expert on fixing bikes so I was pleased to think I would learn something new.
Not so fast.
He began by slowly and carefully explaining how the front derailleur works (I have to admit, I did not know how to spell derailleur, but I sure did know how it worked.) Then he continued to use his slow and careful tone in asking me what I thought it meant to shift into low gear. I’m sure my face was not as neutral as I was trying to make it. In truth, I was insulted, frustrated and plain old mad. I have ridden this bike for thousands of kilometres. It’s true, I have never been in the Tour de France, but I think I’m a decent cyclist. And, I do know what it means to shift into a low gear. Imagine. I’ve found my low gears really helpful when I’m climbing mountains. And yes, I’m a middle-aged woman. Clearly, one who he thought needed things explained very slowly and clearly.
It isn’t only one-year-olds who appreciate being seen.
The day after the day after the bike incident, I was talking on the phone with Ruth, the photographer who has agreed to do a professional photo shoot for me. I’d like to update my website and I’ve never had professional photos done for my business. I was worried about the shoot. I was feeling reluctant, afraid, self-conscious, and a bit shy. Ruth had asked me to think about some words or qualities I would like most see portrayed in my images. Ruth explained that she had been taught that if you don’t ‘know it’, you won’t ‘see it’. I had been mulling over what I might say to Ruth when we chatted. I told her that often when I see a picture of myself, I don’t think it accurately portrays what I thought I was portraying. I said that my smile often looks like I’m holding a little something back. Ruth said she had noticed this, and she had noticed that sometimes it looks like there is almost a hint of a question in my smile. As soon as she said this, I felt a huge relief.
It isn’t only one-year-olds who appreciate being seen.
Ruth had been able to see me. She understood what I have on the inside of me that I want to have seen on the outside. I am at a place in my life where I don’t want to hold back, or feel that I need to. I don’t want to have to question my abilities or my worth. Ruth saw this.
Seeing someone is one of the most wonderful gifts we can give them. Each of us wants to be seen, really seen, for what we believe we are. It is such a feeling of home when someone ‘gets’ us. When they see qualities in us that are important to us. When they see past the generalizations and stereotypes that are also clearly available for easy viewing. It may not be overstating it to say that until we believe we are seen, we can never truly step into our most confident, authentic selves.
On Saturday, when I was sitting with little Ben’s Grammie, we were both able to easily see Ben. He, of course, is not yet at an age when he has learned to hold any pieces of himself back. I hope we will always be two people in his life who see him. Not just see that he is a toddler or a teenager, but really see the qualities inside him that let him know we know him, we believe in him and we are there to support him.
When April (Grammie) and I hugged goodbye, she whispered in my ear, “They’re doing such a great job, aren’t they?” “They sure are”, I replied, both of us with tears in our eyes. She clearly knows how to see.
My inquiry for you this week is, “What needs to be seen?”
Elizabeth is a certified, professional Life and 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 and personal coaching for individuals and teams. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to sharpen your tool of seeing others.
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