The Value of Things

Disclaimer:  This post is very similar to another recent post, but with a slightly different twist.  I'm not recycling material (yet)


We have a used-car problem in our family, if one defines "problem" as "a repeat situation, after the family member in charge swore up and down he HAD learned his lesson."

When it came time to sell our elderly station wagon, we were all sad, as there could never be a newer replacement.  We had the most recent vintage (which wasn't terribly recent.)
The family member in charge of selling the car set a price, listed the car on the relevant websites and...

Two years later, when the car no longer would start, it was towed for scrap.

What happened?

In a nutshell, the way he valued the car determined the price set, and that price was just too high for an 16-year-old, gas guzzler.  There were no takers.
No problem, except the designated seller refused to lower the price.
"It's worth that much," he insisted.

Sentimentally, that old wagon was priceless.  Practically speaking, it was priceless too.  With the seats down, I could carry two seven-foot folding tables, two wooden children's tables, four wooden children's chairs, two folding chairs, and still get the rear gate closed.

Monetarily speaking, it wasn't worth much.  Maintenance was a killer.  Before the station-wagon, I had not known motor oil came in gallon containers.

Here's the kicker:  The exact same thing happened when it came time to re-home another car.
The price was too high, the car languished for over a year, and was sold for a small fraction of the initial asking price.

Why did this happen AGAIN?

I don't know for sure, but I believe the common denominator is two opposing measures of value, applied to the same object.  If you've ever seen a piece of furniture or a large rug at a garage/estate sale, which seems overpriced, it might be the same effect:

Sentiment versus utility.

I recently noted (and wrote about) the reverse stumbling block, when something of actual monetary value but no practical use anymore languishes, because there is too much sentiment to sell it to just anyone.

It's a balancing act, to be sure, determining the value of things when it's time to thin the herd.
Is sentiment the higher value?  If so, "free to a GOOD home" honors that.
Is monetary gain the higher value?  Determine what the market will bear...and don't look back.

The Voices in Your Head

Who can you trust, really?
The loving spouse who says, "That was an amazing dinner", or the Voice in Your Head saying, "The meat was dry."
How about the best friend who says, "I don't think that person has your best interests at heart" versus the Voice in Your Head, who counters, "Of course s/he does.  You just don't understand."

If the voices in your head are anything like the voices in my head, they're opinionated, confident and sometimes, even correct.

But, not all the time.

They sure are compelling, though.

Compelling enough to get between a person and excellent advice from a friend.
Compelling enough to block and turn away compliments. 
Why?  Why do people assume the internal messages are correct and accuse otherwise trusted friends and loved ones of "just trying to be nice" or "being jealous" rather than being honest or helpful?

I think it comes down to four words:  Keeping the Narrative Alive

Everyone's life has a personal narrative arc, whittled into shape over time:
"I'm an extrovert."
"I'm not good at foreign languages."
"I don't like hamburger."
"I'm a great cook."
"I give good advice."

Gradually, our personal narrative and life-direction take shape, thanks to those internal voices constantly supporting the narrative and sounding the alarm if something "doesn't fit."

Like a compliment, if you don't think highly of your skills, or a fit of indignation, if someone suggests your great idea has some practical flaws.

In short, the voices in your head are a feedback loop, selectively perceiving and interpreting events to reinforce what you already believe about yourself. 
Which is fine, right up until self-messages clash with reality, and you have to choose between ignoring the evidence or taking a deep breath, stiff-arming pride and listening to the voices OUTSIDE your head...

...and give the voices in your head some fresh material.
Listen
Consider
Change
Grow
Repeat

Punishing Caution

A year or so ago, I met a young man with a dream.
He wanted to be a world-champion ice dancer.
So, he left college, found an excellent coach, and started working hard on his dream. 
Admittedly, "Nick" was getting off to a late start, but he was unfazed.

His enthusiasm was contagious!

We talked about training, testing, competing and the mental game that overshadows all that.

I didn't see him again for several weeks.

When our paths crossed again, Nick greeted me enthusiastically and said,
"Thank you so much for your advice!  I wrote it down and stuck it on the mirror."

"What advice?"

"You said skating punishes caution.  It's true."

And it is (especially for jumping), but the same holds true for all of life.
Not "throwing caution to the wind" (aka being stupid),
but committing completely to whatever you want to accomplish.

It doesn't have to be a life-time commitment, or even a five minute commitment.
Just long enough to execute correctly the task at hand.

Fortunately, most things in life don't have a broken wrist or twisted knee as possible consequences
of hesitation or second thoughts, "just" opportunities missed or more time spent correcting mistakes.
But...who wants the regret of "If only I'd gone for it, flat out, I wouldn't be in this situation"?

Or, as I sometimes tell my coach, "Are you videoing this?  'Cause either way, it's gonna be epic."