Is Your Posture the Place Where Failure Begins?

Do you remember the riddle of the the farmer, the fox, the goose, and the bag of grain? The farmer purchases those supplies but, on his/her/their way home, the farmer comes to a river and can only transport one of these at a time. (Stay with me and I’ll give you the answer.)

Last week, I had a puppy (I was caring for her for a friend who had an emergency), my own belongings, the puppy’s medium-sized crate, and the puppy’s belongings, including treats and food. I had to get them all out of a high-rise apartment building to my car—all with a bum knee.

The puppy was adorable. And smart. But, still, a puppy...

The puppy, being a puppy, wouldn't let me out of her sight. She screamed and howled. And I was asked to keep her quiet in the high-rise apartment.

The puppy was heavy but walking her on a leash was like trying to walk popping popcorn.

I loaded the belongings onto the elevator while either leading or carrying the puppy, unloaded the belongings, and then saw a group of retired people hanging out in the lobby of the apartment building. I was able to put treats in a puzzle toy with the puppy in the crate in the lobby, near the skeptical tenants, asked them to keep an eye on her, which really only meant, don’t let anyone take her, and l then loaded the belongings into my car.

I came back for the crate, the puppy, and the now-empty puzzle toy.

Phew!

Except now came the ride in the car. Let’s just say: We made it home.

Except that I had already failed. Because that night my arms—especially my right arm—was painful and I could barely use it. (Remember that I still had the puppy and the puppy was heavy.) And my low back ached. And my knee hurt.

I had gotten things done but I had also done this thing with my posture, which I sometimes do under stress:

I hunched. My shoulders were probably up around my ears and I was using muscles in my back and below my shoulders not meant to be used the way I was using them.

This is my posture of failure

What I just described is my posture of failure. It is the posture of hunching and efforting, of stress and struggle. It is the posture of failure, for me, because it means that I am already feeling like I’ve lost.

This posture is the hopelessness and dejection of my childhood. And I am bringing it into my current reality.

I am not faulting myself for how I handled the situation. Heck, I got the puppy home! But the situation reminds me that I am failing when I contort my own body to get a job done.

I am failing when I let go of my own feeling of well-being.

And I am failing when I don’t ask for help—or ask for enough help.

Because whatever I accomplish, I now believe, has to take into account me. My feelings of success and satisfaction, my feelings of ease and confidence.

My work also must convey the energy of success. If I deliver my work in a way that delivers an energy of struggle and difficulty, I am worked against my own intentions. Because I want my clients to experience their own success.

I can no longer leave myself on one side of the river while I get everything else across.

How about you?

Do you have a posture of success? Head up, eyes bright, shoulders back, heart open? Or do you have a posture of failure? Shoulders hunched, body tense, jaw set?

Because your posture of success let’s you feel successful. Which then allows you to be more likely to succeed—and, in turn, allows your success to be to your benefit and not as much taking everything out of you.

Doug

Doug didn’t realize that his job had become impossible for him until his kids started complaining about how hard he banged on his keyboard.

Then he started having headaches and, finally, he developed sciatica.

The bodyworkers he worked with pointed to stress and tension as the source of his difficulties. He happened to mention it to me and, together, we realized that he was trying so hard to manage all of the aspects of his job that he was using tension to do so.

It turned out that he actually couldn’t get all the work done without tension—so he began to explore other possibilities for work. He found a position that was less demanding, where he found himself valued and supported. He realized that, indeed, the work load he had been handling before had really been impossible.

In time, the headaches—due to clenching his jaw—and the sciatica—due to clenching his buttocks and slumping in his low back area—all dissipated. And when his kids complained that he was banging on his keyboard so hard they could hear it, he smiled, took a deep breath, and unclenched his fingers.

He had found ease in his work.

I work with clients on their posture of success. I ask them to feel the tension in their bodies and begin to question if all that tension is necessary. Because, after all, we want to succeed because it feels good. And we want a success that includes us, that includes our whole selves, and includes, whenever possible, ease and feeling good.

Back to the farmer

So the farmer didn’t have a group of retired people hanging out on one side of the river.

Instead, the farmer solved the riddle this way:

The farmer took the goose across the river, leaving the fox and the grain behind. (Wait. Why, oh why, does the farmer even want a fox??)

Then the farmer brings the fox (or the grain) over and brings the goose back. Then the farmer can bring the grain (or the fox) across the river and come back, finally, for the goose.

Success

My prescription for success requires that I maintain my own well-being whenever possible. And that well-being is reflected in my posture and the way my body feels.

How about you??

Do you even want a job that requires you to be tense??

What if the success you long for is actually a feeling of ease, relaxation, aliveness and satisfaction?

What if struggling and striving are not of interest to you anymore?

Want to talk about it?

I’m here, on LinkedIn, so DM me: https://www.dhirubhai.net/in/frangallaher/

Let’s talk for 30 minutes—my gift. We’ll figure it out. Together.