It May be Time to Drop Your Cards

Imagine, if you will, that you are born into this world with a deck of cards that were "pre-assigned." One card is your father, one is your mother, one is your own unique DNA (which would include everything from hair and eye color, predisposition for inherited diseases, etc.) Others include the city in which you were born, the home you live in and so on. Your deck, however, isn't fully built.

As you grow up and your deck grows, a card is added representing a particular teacher, your school...another might become a traumatic experience, then, an especially joyful experience. A best friend, a worst enemy, a pet. It could represent something shitty that someone said to you, or did to you. Each card continues to assign specific people, experiences and geographies.

You reach that point that we all reach throughout our lives. That point where perhaps we are married, employed, maybe have children, a mortgage. That point where we really notice ourselves. We begin to reflect, evaluate, consider - am I in the job I enjoy? Am I happily married? Am I good parent? Do I enjoy my family and do they enjoy me? Am I at peace with my life? Do I feel fulfilled as a person here on earth and I am giving my best to everyone I encounter?

While some of the answers may be yes, and some may be no, I think this is a great stopping point to review your deck of cards.

I did this exercise with a client of mine who had 43 employees. This exercise was part of a larger retreat for this company, but this was a particularly impactful moment.

I gave each employee a deck of cards. I asked them to envision each card as a representation of many of the aforementioned categories. They did.

I then asked everyone to drop the entire deck onto the floor. When the participants dropped their cards, there wasn't laughter or discomfort. It was rather somber. The power of the moment took hold. Their lives, with each card representing significance, were scattered across the floor.

Then, I asked them to look at the deck and pick up the card representing their mother. Whether mom is alive, passed, or you never met her, pick it up. Whatever story mom represents, I said, you get to redefine it. It means you pick up the card and forgive. You pick up that card and you feel grateful. You pick up the card and, perhaps, move along, because it isn't healthy.

We moved along to father, siblings, friends, employers, experiences. Then I said stop.

I offered that there were cards on the floor that needed to stay on the floor. There are cards that we carry for much of our lives that aren't ours. A teacher who told you you weren't good enough. A friend that betrayed your trust. A parent who said shitty things to you that build a story in your head - that wasn't your story to begin with. Leave those cards on the floor. They aren't yours. They're not your story and they're not your truth.

Your new deck still contains your family, your job, your home and other constants. But the remaining cards now represent your truth, your love, your forgiveness and aspirations. The things that you own, minus the things that you will own no longer, because they do not serve you, nor do they support the best version of you.

What we carry around with us that leak through how we treat others, how we parent, how we work, how we play, how we love and how we live can be supportive and positive, or they can be damaging and highly negative relative to impact on our lives.

What does your own deck look like today - and what cards do you need to drop?