I read a blog recently from respected Canadian business man, Peter Aceto. The president and CEO of Tangerine Banking argued that there’s no “reset” button in life. I have to respectfully disagree with him.
While we are all a product of the experiences we have in life, there’s no rule book that says those experiences have to define our future. We can reset, reinvent ourselves and rechart the road ahead.
In retrospect, I think what Mr. Aceto really meant that there’s no chance to have a “do-over”, and in that, he’s right. We cannot change the past. The decisions we’ve made and the experiences we’ve had are written in history. But we can control our reactions to the “now” and our plans for the future.
I should know. Ten years ago this week, my life fell apart.
This is not meant to be a self-pity post. Life threw my kids and me a curveball. And we dealt with it. We recharted our journey and have come a long way. In recent years, my personal narrative at this time of year has ceased to be about how awful it was, but has become about how good my life is today. The actual date that things unraveled – and to a certain extent, even that they unraveled – has ceased to be important. I’d like to think that a therapist would tell me that’s progress.
The kids and have done really well in the intervening decade and for the most part, time has healed the scars. Of course, in those few dark moments that still remain, I recall hearing the words that would irreversibly change everything as if it were yesterday. I remember the incredible hurt – the gut-wrenching pain they caused. I remember wanting to scream, to cry, to have the ground open up and swallow me whole.
As was usual in a home with children aged 5, 6 and 7, there was a gaggle of kids at the house when those words were spoken, so what I wanted to do and what I actually did were two different things. I’m not sure any more whose friends they were, but I do remember coming upstairs, reeling from what I’d heard, and having to make snacks and drinks for a lot of youngsters (boys, I think!) and then clean up after them until they went home several hours later. Life had to go on and the reset button needed whacking hard.
I have a quotation on the wall in the foyer of my house. I’m not sure who said it, but it speaks to me and the way I view life. It reads, “You cannot direct the wind, but you can adjust the sails.” And I suppose that kind of sums up how I’ve responded to much of the last decade and all the additional ripples that first curveball caused. The “suck it up and get on with things” method, as someone once described it to me. I adjusted the sails (or hit that proverbial reset button!) and went on. After all, with three young growing children, there was much to do to be able to feed, clothe and house them in the manner to which we’d all been accustomed.
Fortunately, a job fell out of the sky, and with a lot of hard work and a little bit of luck (or perhaps divine intervention!), it became a great career I had never expected to have. Old friends propped me up, lent me a shoulder, or poured another glass of wine – whichever was more appropriate. My family was there for me every step of the way.
Neighbours provided security in knowing there was someone around when the kids came home from school before I made it home from work. My church family supported me just by “being” there and providing me with knowledge that if I needed more, they’d be there for that too. I can never say enough to thank the people in my life during those first days, months, and even years.
But enough about that, and back to Mr. Aceto and his reset button. I honestly believe anyone can push that button if they want to make make a course correction in life. The future is not written in stone. You just have to want it – or need it badly enough. Whether it’s a midlife crisis, a change thrust upon you or just a pent-up desire to do something “different”, I think everyone has it within themselves to hit that button and try something new.
