Read Living the Significant Life Online
Authors: Peter L. Hirsch,Robert Shemin
Living the Significant Life (7 page)
What else is significant or noticeable about the life you imagine for yourself?
Consider the possibility that your daydreams, which live in the world in which your imagination meets your conscious mind, are sending you messages about what you really want from your life. Are you listening to those messages? Are you taking action on them?
One way to make productive use of your daydreams is to turn them into visualizations. We’ll talk more about this in chapter 7, but let’s get started now.
Creative visualization is the process of affecting events simply by directing your own thoughts, and it’s all about imagination. It’s often used by athletes who are working to improve their performance, but it’s equally effective for anyone seeking to improve his or her life, so it should definitely be in your toolbox for building a significant life. No equipment is necessary.
There are many excellent books on visualization techniques, but here’s a quick overview. First, determine the goal you want to work toward—the more specific, the better. It can be a professional goal such as reaching a million dollars in sales, a personal goal such as losing twenty pounds so you look great on your upcoming beach vacation, or an overall image of the life you’d like to be living. (Don’t know what your goal is yet? Don’t worry, we’ll get to that soon.)
Next, clear some time when you can be alone for a few minutes and get into a comfortable position. Focus for a minute or two on your breathing and on getting rid of any tension in your body.
Now use your imagination to visualize, in as much detail as possible, what it is you’d like to achieve. Use all five senses—sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste—to put yourself physically into your ideal scene. Maybe you’re in a comfortable family room with the spouse and children you hope to have someday. Maybe you’re in a well-appointed corner office, having been promoted to vice president of your company. Maybe you’re retired, living comfortably in a quiet beachfront community surrounded by friends and family members.
The key to success is to make your visualizations as detailed as possible. Feel the fabric of the chair you’re sitting on. Hear the voices of the people in your life. Smell the sea air or the scent of your favorite meal in the oven. Really get into the scene with as much clarity as possible.
That’s how athletes do it. A basketball player who is trying to perfect his free-throw technique feels the ball in his hand. He sees the hoop in front of him—the exact height and distance it would be if he were actually standing on the gym floor. He hears the noise from the fans. He smells the combination of scents in the arena, from sweat to food vendors. He tastes the cold water he just sipped on the sidelines and the hard rubber of his mouth guard. Then he uses his imagination to make the perfect shot over and over again.
The more you practice visualization, the more skilled you’ll become at it and the more clarity you’ll be able to achieve. You’ll find many opportunities to work it into your daily life. When you’re stuck in a traffic jam, close your eyes for just a few seconds and visualize your goal. Take a moment when you’re brushing your teeth, when you’re making dinner, or when you’re eating lunch in your office. We think you’ll be surprised at the results.
The writer George Bernard Shaw was a believer. He said, “Imagination is the beginning of creation. You imagine what you desire, you will what you imagine, and at last you create what you will.” In just two sentences Shaw sums up the power of both imagination and desire. Wow.
Maria Hinostroza sighed heavily as she helped Mr. Goldman back into his hospital bed, adjusted the height, raised the side railing, and locked it into place. It was nearly 8 P.M. and she was tired, although her shift didn’t end for another three hours. Maybe some coffee would help.
Entering the small break room, Maria made an effort to look away from the leftover sheet cake on the counter. Today was the tenth anniversary of the day her friend Karla began working at Pinewood Heights, an assisted living facility in a Chicago suburb. The staff of the rehabilitation wing had a cake for every occasion: birthdays, employment anniversaries, and holidays. Maria had gained twelve pounds since she started working here. She didn’t need any more cake.
Maria had been thrilled when she’d gotten the job as a nurse’s aide. In the years since her family had emigrated from Peru, she’d finished high school, then worked in fast-food chains and grocery stores before her cousin Yolanda had recommended her for this job. Yolanda had said she’d be lucky to get the job, and she was right. The pay wasn’t great, but it was better than what Maria had been making, and she received medical benefits.
At first, she had loved the job. She was a quick learner, she was popular with the patients and staff alike, and the second shift seemed to suit her. She enjoyed having free time during the day, although she didn’t do much with it.
After three years, however, she was feeling restless. Dressing and bathing patients, helping them to and from the bathroom, and making beds had become mindless tasks she could do by rote. Maybe she wasn’t physically tired as much as she was just plain bored, she thought as she returned to the floor.
Maria sighed again as she entered the room of Mrs. Bonner, preparing to take her vital signs.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Maria said quickly as she noticed Janet Henry, the facility’s nurse practitioner, who was talking with Mrs. Bonner.
“No problem, Maria,” Janet said with a smile. “I’m just finishing up and about to be on my way.” She turned back to Mrs. Bonner and continued, “Okay, then, I’m going to start reducing those medications that we talked about. If everything keeps improving, I think you’ll be on your way home in a few days.”
Maria stepped aside to let Janet leave the room. She was in awe of Janet. They were about the same age and they worked in the same place, but their jobs couldn’t be more different. Although Maria enjoyed the patient contact and was proud of her role in helping them, she was keenly aware that the tasks she performed each day paled in comparison to what Janet did. As a nurse practitioner, she outranked even the registered nurses. She ordered tests and interpreted them. She decided who needed physical therapy, and who needed an EKG, and who was ready to be released. With some limitations, she was even licensed to prescribe medications. To Maria, she seemed almost like a doctor.
Maria had been watching Janet for a few months now, and she harbored a secret desire to be just like her. But since she had only a high school education, that seemed impossible. She’d done some research and knew that she’d need years of school, years full of science and math—impossible.
Over lunch the next day, Maria’s mother, Isabel, said, “You’ve been quiet lately. Is something wrong?”
“No, I’m okay. Just a little—I don’t know, bored, I guess? I like my job, but it’s gotten to be the same thing every day, and it doesn’t feel like enough.”
“You’re lucky to have such a good job,” her mother chided. “A lot of people would be very happy with what you have. Imagine if we were back in Peru. What would you have then? Not a good job like this, I can tell you that.”
“I know, and I don’t mean to be ungrateful,” Maria replied. “It’s just that all those years you talked about leaving Peru and coming to the United States, you used to tell us that if we lived here, we could do anything we wanted,
be
anything we wanted. And I guess sometimes I just wish that were really true.”
“What is it that you want to be?”
“I’d like to be a nurse.”
“But you
are
a nurse.”
“No, Mama, I’m a nurse’s
aide
.
That’s an entirely different thing. Nurses—the real ones—have so much more responsibility, and they really get to help the patients. I do little things to help, and what I do is important, but I wish I could do more. There’s a woman at work who’s a nurse practitioner, which is kind of like a supernurse. She can even prescribe medicine for patients, almost like a doctor.”
“So why don’t you do that? You’re a smart girl.”
Maria laughed. “It’s not quite that simple. I only went to high school. To be a nurse practitioner, you have to go to college for four years to get a nursing degree, then go even more to get a master’s degree. It’s a lot of years and a lot of work.”
“You’re a hard worker.”
“Yeah, but it’s also a lot of money and—I don’t know, it’s just a lot. I’m fine doing what I’m doing.”
Isabel looked at her daughter and frowned. “You know what your problem is, Maria? You’ve got no imagination.”
“What?” Maria laughed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Ever since I was a teenager, I dreamed about coming to the United States. I read books about it, and every time I met someone who had been here, I asked them a hundred questions about what it was like. After I married your father, I put it into the back of my mind because I was busy with you and your sister, but after your father died, I started thinking about it again. I thought about it all the time, imagining what it would be like to live here and have you girls grow up in this country.”
“That’s just daydreaming, Mama. Daydreaming doesn’t make anything true.”
“We’re here, aren’t we?”
“Well, yes, we’re here, but not because you daydreamed about coming here.”
“Maybe not directly, but it’s part of the reason. Everybody thought I was crazy to think that I could move to another country with two young children and no husband, but I knew it was possible. I’d lie in bed at night, after you girls were asleep, and picture exactly what our life would be like. I saw a small apartment with a bedroom for me and one for you girls. I saw myself going to work every day and shopping at the grocery and speaking English to everyone I saw. I saw it in such detail, it was like a movie playing in my head.”
“I still don’t see the connection.”
“I spent so much time picturing us here, in our American home, that I started to believe it could really happen, and all of a sudden I found myself thinking of ways to do it. I talked about it to everyone I could find, hoping someone would have contacts here who could help. I even got a job at the American embassy to meet more people and learn more, and I tried to speak English at home as much as I could. After a while, the doors started opening up, and now here we are. Do you remember the first apartment we lived in? It looked almost exactly like the one I kept picturing before I went to sleep at night. It was like I’d imagined it into reality.”
“So you’re saying that’s what I need to do? Imagine myself being a nurse like Janet, and then I’ll be one?”
“I’m saying that it wouldn’t hurt. If you give up before you’ve even started, you’ll never be anything more than you are, but if you use your imagination, I’m sure you can find a way to make it happen.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Maria said. “I’ll think about it.”
She did think about it, and thought some more. Maria bought a book on visualization and started practicing for a few minutes each day. At first her mind wandered and she got frustrated, but in time the process became easier and she found herself conjuring up an increasingly clear picture of herself, still working at Pinewood but now as a full-fledged nurse practitioner. She saw herself in the kind of scrubs that Janet wore, and she even imagined that the two of them were friends, chatting over lunch in the tiny break room.
Her mother was right. The more Maria visualized herself in that role, the more she felt comfortable that it fit her, and the more it emboldened her to think about how she might begin to pursue it.
Late one afternoon, Maria was in the break room at Pinewood, sipping her coffee, when Janet walked in.
“Maria! I’m glad I ran into you,” she said.
“Oh, do you need some help with a patient?” Maria responded, starting to get up from her chair.
“No, nothing like that. I’m on the board at Fisk Career Academy, and we’ve just gotten clearance to expand the nursing program there. I don’t know if you’re interested, but I’ve seen how good you are with the patients here, and I think you’d make a great nurse. If you’d like, I could help you put your application together and set you up with the financial aid office. It’s a part-time program, so you could continue to work here, but you’ll need to move quickly because the new spots will fill up fast.”
Maria stared in dumbstruck silence.
“Maria? Are you okay?”
“Yes! Sorry, I’m fine, just a little—surprised. I’ve actually been trying to work up the nerve to ask you for advice about going to nursing school. I’d love to do what you do.”
“Well, that’s a happy coincidence, then,” Janet replied. “Are you working tomorrow? Maybe we can start on your application then.”
“That would be great,” Maria said. “Thank you so much.” She turned and made herself busy pouring another cup of coffee so Janet wouldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes as she pictured her mother, all those years ago, sitting in a cramped house in Peru and picturing herself and her daughters living in the United States. Her mother’s imagination had transported the three of them nearly four thousand miles. Now Maria was starting her own journey. She wondered how far it would take her.