Most people don't know how they are seen by other people. Most of us don’t really know that we are loved, or why, or how much we are loved.
Over the past six years of working with clients on their limiting beliefs and the things that are holding them back, what comes up more often than any other idea is that almost all of us believe that we’re not ok, that we’re not good enough, and that we’re not lovable.
Over the past six years of working with clients on their limiting beliefs and the things that are holding them back, what comes up more often than any other idea is that almost all of us believe that we’re not ok, that we’re not good enough, and that we’re not lovable.
Every day there are suicides of people who don't know how special they are, how loved and unique, and how much of an impact they have on so many people's lives.
We need to tell each other. And we need to do this regularly. And we must start this with our kids before these intense and damaging beliefs take hold.
This is not what we’ve been taught to do with our kids. We tend to use blanket praise – we tell them that they’re magnificent and unstoppable and brilliant and clever. What we don’t do is to notice their uniqueness, to celebrate the small moments with them, to really really see them as they are right now.
When contemplating why we all seem to grow up with these beliefs, it made me think about the eulogies that we write for people we love and which we read out at their funerals. What the hell is the point of that? It is too late then to spend hours pouring over the little things that they did that made a difference in our world, the funny moments that we spent together, the aching loss we will feel without their unique energy in our lives.
We write such amazing things about people after they die when they never get to hear it. It is so important for us to start telling the people in our lives that they are amazing and loved when it matters most - while they are still here.
So I started writing living eulogies for the people in my life now. And I encourage you to do this too – for your kids, your spouse, your parents, and all your friends. It does take time (so friends of mine, if you haven’t had one yet, it is still coming!), but aren’t these wonderful people in your life worth spending some time on? If they died tomorrow, trust me, you’d find the time.
And we need to be specific when we tell people that we love them. We all tell our kids we love them all the time, but that's too easy - just a comment in passing. How do they know it's true?
We need to dig deeper and really show them that we see them for who they are. That we appreciate their presence in our lives. That we notice the little things they do right and not just the big things they do wrong.
So what would you miss about your kids if they were gone? Tell them before they are.
Use descriptive praise (daily and in your eulogy to them if you write one). E.g. Not just “well done” or “good girl” or “I love you” or “You're wonderful”. Instead you could say: “Well done - I’ve watched you struggling with that problem for weeks now and you didn't give up. You kept at it until you got it right.”
Instead of “good girl”, you could say, “You didn't feel like helping me with the dishes, but you put aside your desire to chill on the couch and gave me a hand. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that.”
Instead of “I love you”, you could say, “When I see your gorgeous smile at the end of a hard day it makes me feel like I could keep going indefinitely.”
Instead of “you're wonderful”, you could say, “You are unique in all the world. There is nobody else out there with your cheeky sense of humour and your warm hugs, and nobody makes a smoothie quite as refreshing as yours.”
Let's notice the details. Celebrate the small things. Take the time to express how magical all the moments with our children are. Let us make sure that our children know they are loved, every single day.
You never know when it will be the last day, but you don’t need to wait for a crisis to tune into the incredible people in your life right now. I promise you their lives will be different just by hearing the things that you are thinking anyway. You think they know these things. They don’t. They are not psychic! Write that eulogy. Today.