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Ann's StoryMy best friend, Ted, has a belief that he calls The Blue Shirt Theory. With a few failed relationships behind him, he’s hesitant to trust that process again, no matter how much his heart desires companionship and sharing. “It’s like wearing a blue shirt,” he explained to me. “If every time you put on a blue shirt you break out in a rash, you start to think, ‘Hmmm, I guess I shouldn’t wear a blue shirt anymore.’” Ted’s attachment to his failures has prevented him from continuing to work toward having a healthy relationship.
Whenever I hear this limiting belief from Ted — or when I hear similar stories from others close to me — I’ve learned to stop and ask myself two questions: “In what areas of my life am I holding on to old thoughts that limit and no longer serve me?” and “Are those worn-out thoughts and the fear they create keeping me from having what I say I want?” For a long time, the answer to those questions was “yes” when it came to my role as a leader on work teams. As a team leader, I was responsible for coordinating projects and outlining the steps needed to assure our team’s success. That part came easily. Then it would be time for the meeting and the presentation of my outline. The team members would inevitably stare blankly at me and at the agenda, not really engaged in the project or its outcome. Some of the thoughts that swirled through my mind after each session were: “Where did I go wrong?” “Why didn’t they get excited or participate in discussions?” “Maybe I didn’t present the material clearly.” “Maybe I didn’t leave enough time for discussion.” Somehow, though, we managed to muddle through the sessions together and — usually with the pressure of a deadline looming — pull it off successfully. But then there was always the next time. I got through these meetings with dread and a sense of failure. I believed that we as a team, and especially I as the team leader, could do better. I attached myself so securely to my perceived failures that I eventually became intent on quitting, convinced that I didn’t have what it took to lead the team effectively. Finally, I told my supervisor that I didn’t want to be a team leader anymore. I explained that I was more comfortable just being on the team and that she could count on me to do my part with 110-percent commitment. “Too bad,” she said. “I need you to lead because you are the one who can see the big picture for us.” I resisted. I even called in sick on the day of a planning session; I had worked myself up about it so much that I’d convinced myself I was “sick” of it, and I was completely unmotivated to strive toward improvement. Yet when I got back to the office, there was a note from my supervisor with an idea to use for the next team meeting. Ugh! When I realized that I was not going to get out of this role, and that the opportunities to learn and change continued to be placed in front of me, I began to let go of my sense of failure and explore how I could approach the problem differently. I shifted my thinking from having to tell the team what we needed to do to helping them identify the requirements for each other. I asked for help from other team leaders who had more success in doing these types of projects. I introduced an element of fun into the process. I accepted the fact that I was the one who needed to take the lead. Slowly, things progressed and the tasks became a bit easier. I relaxed. Having detached myself from my past failures, I rediscovered my trust in the process, and ultimately we all succeeded. Like many of us, you may have your own experiences of past failures to rise above. We believe that it’s necessary to work through whatever your blocks are in order to have the change and success you truly want. We believe this so strongly that we’ve included a whole section about naming and releasing our limiting beliefs in chapter 7. Copyright © 2004-2009 by Michelle Beaulieu Pillen, Ph.D., and Ann Leach. All rights reserved. No part of this Web site may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise. |
 Ted and Ann Exercise 5.3:
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