Having been an athlete myself and understanding what stock I took in being chosen for a team, I was feeling quite proud of my niece’s accomplishment. The fact that she was playing on the first string was cause for additional excitement.

When the game came to a close I couldn’t wait to great the victors at the door as they exited the gym. I was expecting to see a collection of smiling sweaty faces beaming with satisfaction that they had ruled the day. What I encountered was quite the opposite. Half the team was in tears. It wasn’t the last game they would play together, the referee didn’t overrule the outcome, no ambulance was rushing to the scene, so why such drama? Answer… half the team didn’t get to play. Girls were stomping up to their parents devastated that the coach didn’t give them a turn. A turn? This is competitive sport. You don’t get “a turn”. You earn a turn. You prove yourself worthy of a turn. Where are they learning this behaviour?

Fast forward eight years and I’m standing in a room full of parents watching their sons in a squash tournament. Tempers are hot. Full grown adults are marching around, arms crossed, questioning their child’s ranking and positioning on the ladder board. Offline conversations with coaches or anyone who might improve their son’s chances of success are pervasive. Ahhh, now I know where they learned it.

This notion that “everyone should get a turn” has created an entire generation of people who have grown up believing that if they aren’t “chosen” they are being treated unfairly.

If our children haven’t learned at an early age how to fail, or in the first mentioned case, sit on the bench, they are at risk of not acquiring the coping mechanisms to regroup and bounce back. When the “real world” hits, along with its competitive nature and side kick called stress, the unprepared wallow in defeat and often depression.

Failure is part of life. It should be a welcomed occurrence as it forces us to dig a little deeper and test our convictions. There is nothing more powerful than the understanding of one’s own inner strength. Being given the opportunity to learn that you have the ability to rise from the ashes of defeat and prevail is the greatest gift a parent can give their young.

In our attempt to protect our children from failing have we set them up to fail?

The rub comes just after so called “success” has been reached. For someone with ambition the glory of the achievement is fleeting. Often it isn’t even noticed. Many of my clients suffer from this “achievement bypass” syndrome. They never stop long enough to realize that they have actually climbed the mountain. As soon as they get to the top they are searching for the next peak to conquer. In the case of the $100,001 victory, high achievers won’t even bat an eyelash at the fact that they have surpassed their marker. They instead turn towards what’s left to be done.

This is the secret curse of the ambitious; never truly feeling like they’ve “made it” even though those of us witnessing their accomplishments believe otherwise. The curse is of course also part of the driver. If one never gets to the pot of gold, one keeps marching on in search of it.

As a coach, the biggest part of my job is to help people overcome their fear threshold so they can achieve their goals. I am always thrilled to see clients reach the top of the mountain. I am equally thrilled to hear about their next endeavour but not without first taking stock in the recently conquered quest. It may sound strange but giving clients permission to do nothing but dance in their victory is also part of my job. The learning that I hope they receive is that the journey is where the true value is. Those who bathe in the voyage experience more joy, less stress and a broader appreciation for their achievements.

Would you consider yourself ambitious? If so, are you conscious of the “wins” in your journey?

Just the other night I was out for dinner with a friend of mine who has several of these “don’t want to work that hard’s” under her wing. She was lamenting that she couldn’t get any of them to stay past five and the idea of anyone coming in early was out of the question.

What’s even sadder than my friends story is that the very group of employers who are complaining about how ill equipped these young people are, are the same group that raised them. We, the boomers have sent our young out to be slaughtered by our own peers.

On the heels of a Toronto Star article, written by a client of mine who is in this subject age group, the phone at Newroad has been ringing off the hook. To my surprise, 50% of the calls have been from parents concerned about their 20-35 something children. Could I help them focus? Could I help them get the job they wanted? Could I give them the tools to stick with it and handle the stress? The apparent need for this type of service was too pervasive to overlook and has since become a large segment of Newroad’s business.

A few days after that flurry of requests I was having lunch with one of my nieces, age 28. Someone I would like to believe I have been mentoring along the way. She is like a sponge and has implemented all of my tips about how to get ahead in life and work. I have little doubt that she will fly past yours truly and I look forward to the day when she is advising me. I reiterated at that lunch what I know to be true.

Whoever in her generation decides to put in the extra hours, show initiative without hand holding, and in general go the extra mile, will soar past their counterparts. The world is still run by the baby boomers. Boomers are relationship builders, hand shakers, slaves to long days and nights. They have been labelled ‘the me generation’ and for good reason. As the largest group in history, they have had to compete to get where they are. They coined the phrase “no pain, no gain” and have lived by that mantra for decades. They expect the world to revolve around them and it does.

For those who are 20-35 and trying to make their mark, take note that if you want to be noticed by a boomer, then you had better be noticeable. In other words, work your ass off. If you do, you will leave your peers, who are sending out resumes by email and waiting for a response, in the dust. Don’t be afraid to get out and look a boomer in the face and let them know you are committed to working for them. It’s just what they are dying to hear.

Be one of few in the ‘entitled generation’ to break the mould of needing instant gratification and watch the doors open for you.

What is the extra step you need to take to get one step closer to that job you want?

Fast forward to flight time. Airline staff posing, as helpful receptionists, were milling about the auto check-in stands hoping not be noticed or heaven forbid asked to assist. I fumbled my way through the computers’ questions and got my boarding pass. No customer service to speak of at this point so off I went in search of the gate.

I boarded the plane and as I passed the greeting stewardess, I ask if it would be possible to hang my coat. It was a new white coat and I was hoping to preserve its mark free perfection. “No, I’m sorry”, she responded abruptly, “this closet is for first class passengers only”. I couldn’t help but notice that all the first class customers we already seated and the closet that was reserved for them was half empty, hangers dangling in the breeze. Strike two for this carrier.

On I ventured navigating the tiny aisle with my carry-on bag. A true carry-on I might add, not to be compared with the “everything but the kitchen sink” version that others had negotiated on board. Since the airline started charging for checked bags all bets are off for finding overhead storage. It’s a crap shoot. I got lucky and up my bag went courtesy of the man in the aisle seat.

I thanked him and then looked toward my final destination. You have got to be kidding me! Not only am I going to be seated beside the dreaded mother with small child on her lap but my $30 window seat didn’t have a window. The next two hours of my life would be spent pinched between a wall and a one year old. There was no TV, no music and no room, purgatory at 30,000 feet.

As my hands started to sweat with discomfort, reminiscent of my claustrophobic days, I reminded myself that I am a coach. Helping people change their perspectives and overcoming their fears is what I do for a living. How do I make this cattle car experience bearable? I looked to the mother sitting next to me, whose child at this point was squirming and squealing. The man who had lifted my bag, now disgusted, put his fingers in his ears and turned away. I decided to take charge and step into the role of supporter.

I spent the rest of the flight playing with the little guy to keep him at bay while his mother shared her story with me. She was alone. In the past year her husband had left for someone else and her father, who she had cared for in his ailing months, was now gone too. She was off to start over with other relatives and with any luck put herself through school. She was only 19. All of a sudden my windowless seat and wrinkled coat didn’t seem significant. My flight of misery was her vehicle to a better life. I could only hope I had helped to ease her transition in some way. I got off the plane feeling very fortunate for the life I lead and thankful to her for my perspective shift.

For those of us who live simpler lives the question, “Success at what price?” is equally a relevant one. Personally I don’t have to look too far to see the impact of the answer. Whether it be close friends or clients, the symptoms are present. Sleepless nights, panic attacks, the need for several drinks at the end of the day, irrational spurts of anger and frustration, all red flags that the price may be too high.

So what to do? I often ask my clients to define what success means to them. Typically they all start down the same path with some monetary amount as their marker. I can’t say I blame them. Everywhere we look today our self-worth is being measured by our net worth. The idea of “keeping up with the Jones’ ” has led many a hard working person to a state of emotional breakdown or bankruptcy.

When we measure ourselves by what car we drive or how big our home is, it will never be enough. WE will never be enough. There will always be someone with more who moves in next door. Watch out for this trap.

So if not financial success, then what? The question forces us to have a deeper look at what is really important. Perhaps it’s good health, time with our families or simply yet profoundly, freedom of choice. Beware of whether you take your day-to-day accomplishments for granted. Do you belittle their significance? When you overlook the small kind gesture of a child you have taught or that extra bud on a flower in a garden you have nurtured, you are walking right by many of your own achievements.

If Whitney Houston could tell us now what her definition of success would be I wonder what she’d say.

What do you want yours to be?

In my twenties, yes I can still remember my twenties, I suffered from claustrophobia. I went from being a carefree University student to someone whose life quickly became seriously limited. The fear of being trapped crept up on me without warning. I still to this day have no understanding why it happened. An interesting study I’m sure but at this point for me, and for the purpose of this piece, it doesn’t really matter. More importantly, I got to where I wouldn’t get in an elevator, in the back of a car, or go into an underground parking lot. I couldn’t go to the theatre without sitting on the aisle and checking where all the exits were. Every event I wanted to attend first needed to pass the preliminary interrogation process. Where is it? How do we get there? How many people will attend? How do I get out?

The pinnacle of succumbing to my newly acquired fear was turning down a trip to Spain with my boyfriend at the time. I couldn’t get on the plane. I knew then that I needed to do something or my future would be one of many regrets.

Enter the experts. Who knew there were so many? Although worthy techniques for some, hypnosis and meditation wasn’t what I was looking for. Conjuring up images of my “happy place” only served as a temporary distraction. I needed something I could lean into that would significantly retrain my behaviour.

Then I met a psychologist who taught me about “de-sensitisation’. May sound a bit intimidating but it was just what the doctor ordered. Essentially it is the reversal of the emotional direction you are heading. Instead of going deeper into the hole of trepidation you start to ascend. The two of us set out on our journey of turning back time and mind. We would ride the subway, first one stop together, then one apart. Into elevators we ventured, one floor, then two, then three, and finally the challenge to ride alone and meet him at the top. A step at a time, as he held my hand, figuratively, I looked the devil in the eye and walked on by.

The last piece to conquer of my foreboding dragon was flying. My Dad stepped up for this one. He bought tickets from Toronto to Ottawa return. We flew to the Nation’s capital for dinner and then flew back. As we touched down in Toronto, both my father and I were beaming with pride at my accomplishment; I knew I was well on my way back to freedom.

Like a tick when it backs out of its burrow as heat is applied, the injection of proactive behaviour and thoughts had forced the phobic invader to retreat.

That time in my youth, and the lesson that psychologist taught, has allowed me to not only experience life on a grander scale but has been one of the true “knowings” I can now offer my clients.

You CAN overcome your fears. You CAN retrain your mind.

The question is; are you ready to?

I realize, as I too grow in years, that as a single person winter has the same forlorn effect on me. Although still young enough to engage in all the classic outdoor activities and most likely not going to slip and break a hip, the seclusion that comes with the frosty, dark days, plays on my psyche.

So what to do about it?

Change the routine.

Whenever possible, I get away for while. I escape to south Florida to burn off the blues. Just being farther south means that daylight is more available. The warm air encourages me to venture out often. Collecting cheery “good mornings” while on my two mile a.m. jaunt. It seems community surrounds here and is just waiting for me to participate.

As soon as I get off the plane I am filled with the vitamins of life. Simply changing where I wake up has a dramatic impact on how I feel about myself and my world. I know that for me this change of environment is, and will be, a necessity going forward. It’s a good understanding to have.

If getting away for awhile isn’t an option, being a tourist in my hometown is good too. Spending a night in a hotel and doing some sight-seeing fits the bill. Visiting a pocket of the city that I never get too, sitting in a remote cafe and chatting with the locals, taking a new class, all reboot my energy. Meeting different people and changing my routine opens up fresh dialogue and opportunity.

The important point here, whether you are single or not but especially if you are, is to build variety into your world to pre-empt the luring rut of winter.

What will you do to change up your days and keep the bounce of enthusiasm in your step during these months of frozen tundra?

I used to take comfort, and to some extent still do, in knowing that on special occasions I could predict how the day would unfold. There was something very nurturing about being able to nuzzle into the bosom of tradition. It was like holding that special bear or blanket before you fell asleep when you were little. Warm, safe, loved unconditionally.

As people get older and lives change; marriage, divorce, children and the inevitable passing on, the traditions that I clung to as a child take on different meaning. On one hand they are a way of celebrating and honouring the bond of family and those who have come and gone. On the other hand they are sad reminders of the way life used to be.

I am finding, as I get older, holding on to long standing traditions brings with it a longing for a reversal of time. A quiet wishing for the good old days when life seemed simpler. Given that that isn’t possible, I have come to acknowledge the need for, and actually welcome, change.

To be able to make shifts in how we celebrate special times is of great benefit. There is less reminiscing and more room for being in the present; a state of mind that knows no difference and therefore doesn’t have room for comparisons or reflection. However the day develops is as it should be. The ability to foster wonderful memories is still there without the need to carbon copy last year’s experience. In fact the likely hood of recalling the differences adopted in each year’s celebration is increased as they will stand apart from all the others.

Are there traditions in your life that create more angst than joy?  Some deep rooted sense of duty has you clinging onto them just because that is the way it has always been. Why? When will you give yourself permission to change how things are done and perhaps, heaven forbid, start new traditions? Is that an oxymoron?

Admittedly, I would be lost without some of my families’ traditions. They are, in part, what grounds me. But when the act of doing becomes more important than the reason why, or the people you do it with, then it slips from having meaning to simply being habit.

I for one, at this point in my life, care more about the people I spend time with, than the tradition that surrounds that moment.

Traditions…interesting. Valuable or not?  I’ll let you be the judge.

Do I really need to be in contact with anyone during my walk or at breakfast? Is there a critical email or text that I may miss in the two hours I’ll be gone? Will something come up in conversation between bites of bacon that will cause me to want to make a call? What about time? I don’t wear a watch so will I need to know what time it is?

The answer, after I paused to deliberate, was an unchallenged….NO. I’ll just leave my Blackberry turned off on the kitchen counter. I pushed the red button and watch as the screen went dark and then I headed for the door.

Just then my home phone rang. I back pedalled into the house to answer it but alas was too late. “Perhaps they will be trying my cell”, I whispered to myself. Without hesitation I reignited my Blackberry and my gateway to the outside world. Moments passed and no sign of a call. I had fallen for the trap.

This amazing device, which I gladly married myself too, was now a modern form of prison. Self- imposed entrapment. I had become glued to the ability to connect with anyone on my Rolodex in seconds. I had also indirectly given them permission to search me out at any time without escape.

With that realization, I quickly deadened technology again and marched proudly out the door, knowing I had left the addictive beast behind. Now I will be able to walk through the streets independently, being present to notice all that I pass and able to interact with all whom I meet.

The Freedom Walk…so simple, yet so liberating.

Will you give yourself permission to take one?

I know there have been many a song sung, a book written and a lecture given about not taking life for granted. Somehow we always seem to forget. So the challenge becomes what we can do every day to remind ourselves to not only live in the moment but to fully embrace it.

Personally, my daily goal is to be happy. I’m not talking about laugh out loud, smiley face kind of happiness. I am speaking of the deep rooted joy that comes from living life on purpose. In Canada we have the given right of choice. Many places in the world would consider that one simple word a luxury or not an option at all. I believe part of our responsibility, as people who live in a free society, is to make choices that enhance our life and the lives of those around us.

I had a conversation the other day with someone who was complaining about having to make too many decisions. I suggested a perspective shift. To have many decisions means that you have options. Be thankful for the privilege of choice and embrace the act of making decisions.

One of the exercises I do with my clients is to help them identify and live by their top five values. Mine are: passion, leadership, beauty, honesty and freedom. The way I achieve happiness everyday is to check in to make sure that the decisions I make and the actions I take involve the majority, if not all, of my top five. If that isn’t the case I quickly take stock of my day and make sure to add something that will honour these values. I have that choice and I for one will do my best to not squander it.

If you haven’t seen the fall of the great Hickstead, take a look at YouTube and then ask yourself, am I living my days fully?