My gym is right next to an art therapy studio that has classes for adults with learning disabilities. I am often there at the same time that the students are arriving, and yesterday, that was the case.
Our workout involved three runs up the hill beside the gym. On the first run, when I was about 100 meters up the street, I passed a woman and her companion going the other direction, towards the studio. They were walking together, slowly.
On the second run, a few minutes later, I passed them again. They were about 50 feet closer to the studio, and losing speed. The woman who was the student seemed reluctant to continue towards class.
On the third trek up the hill, I passed the companion. She was looking up towards the other woman, who was now totally still, about where she had been where I passed her last. Her gaze was fixed on the door of the studio. I heard her say, “I can’t. I can’t.”
Have I mentioned that I hate running? I’d rather do almost any form of exercise than run. As I passed the woman, she said exactly what I was thinking, what had been going through my head since I saw that there was running in the workout. She said, “I can’t. I can’t.”
But do you know what she did next? She said, “I can!” Her voice was so clear that it carried to me, huffing and puffing my way up the hill again. She tapped into a voice of encouragement, of positivity, that got her, and me, moving again.
What is your voice saying to you? Are you listening?
