Whose Life Are You Living, Anyway?

As teens, we eagerly anticipated the day we would reach the magical age of 18. "At last!," we proclaimed. "I will become an adult!" as if some magical transformation would occur on that date. "I will make my own decisions!" "My parents will no longer tell me what I can and can't do anymore!," we declared. Oh, the bliss of ignorance.

Truth is, you could move half-way across the world and still be shackled by the confines of your parents, grandparents and every other influential person that crossed your path in your formative years. Even when your parents are dead, you are still subject to values, beliefs and behaviors that they inculcated you with even as you swore you never listened to a word they said. You rebelled. "I will NEVER make my kids eat Brussel sprouts!" I will NEVER be like you, Dad!"

Fast-forward to your 30's. You are living a tragically dysfunctional life. You hoard newspapers, just like your mother did (although you do this in your Kindle as opposed to taking an actual "paper."). You chastise your boyfriend for using paper towels as napkins (your father's pet-peeve). You're working an 8 to 5 job with just two weeks vacation a year because your parents harped on you to get a good steady job, so that you could have a good retirement. You hate it. But isn't it what every responsible adult must do? You are not special. You're not any different from the next working stiff who's just trying to make an honest living like his parents did. Or ARE YOU?

Whose life are you living? What shackles keep you from creating the life you dream about? Whose voice is telling you that you are not different from the next guy? Whose voice is telling you not to shoot for the stars? Whose voice is telling you to play it safe and accept what life gives you?

I recently read The Alchemist, by Paola Coehlo. The Alchemist generously rewards a monk for his hospitality. The monk humbly replies that the value of the gift exceeds the value of his hospitality. The Alchemist tells him not to protest lest the wind hears and life gives him less next time.

Reading this passage, I realized that I had been taught by my mother never to accept a generous gift. I was taught to politely refuse it, because it was just "too big" or "too dear" for me. It occurred to me that in teaching me this, she programmed me to undervalue my self worth and my expectations of what my value could be in the marketplace and in the world in general. I went off into the job market accepting whatever the employer was offering instead of learning to negotiate in accordance with the added value of having me as an employee.

Needless to say, I have escaped the shackles of under valuing myself. Today, I gladly accept a generous gift of thanks or compensation without a hint of guilt or feeling of unworthiness. Why? Because I am a generous and talented individual. I add a lot of value to the world. I am not like the next guy. I am different. I am what I choose to make of myself and I will gladly reap the rewards of my achievements.

Everyday, I question my reactions and behaviors in general. Why do I react negatively to a certain situation? Is it me? Or is it my mother reacting? If it's my mother, I ask myself, do I agree with this response or is it time for me to form my own view? Only by questioning your daily actions and thought processes can you truly begin to live your own life. So, I ask you, whose life are you living?