A feedback junkie

This morning was day 699 of my mile-a-day escapade.

Only just over 38 more years to catch up with my retired U.S. dentist friend.

That would make me 94 years old. Now there's a sobering thought.

Yesterday I was delivering another Be the Best You Can Be! teacher development session, this time to 22 primary school teachers in Essex.

Delivering these sort of sessions is always a great opportunity for me to step back afterwards and reflect on how I did in achieving the purpose of the overall session.

It was doubly useful yesterday because I had a fellow coach observing, who will be delivering her first teacher development session soon. She is also a very experienced coach.

Now, I don't know about you but I've turned into a real feedback junkie.

I know that I can always up my game and take it to another level, no matter whether I feel I did a great or not-so-great job.

We all have blind spots where we just can't see things that are obvious to the external perspective of an observer.

And you always have a choice when receiving feedback.

Think of it as a gift.

It could be just the thing you were hoping for.

It could be the gift that you're not too sure what to do with, but in time you realise it's quite useful.

It could be the present from your grandmother that you know you're never going to use, so you donate it to your nearest charity shop.

Whichever type of gift it is, the process of considering which type is always a useful exercise.

Madder than me

I read, on the internet yesterday, of a retired American dentist who had recently become the 6th person in the U.S. to complete 40 years of running every single day.

Apparently, there are also 286 people who have registered with the U.S. Running Streak Association, who have run at least a mile every day for at least one year.

So there are others as mad as, if not even madder than, me.

For me, running at least a mile every day is such a great discipline for overcoming obstacles.

There are very few days when I can actually say that I'm excited about stepping out of the door in my running shoes.

There have been days when there has been snow and ice completely covering my route.

There have been days when I have limped round at double my normal time due to injury.

There have been days when I've had to run on a treadmill (something I hate).

So I start pretty much each day by pushing past a mental barrier.

What do you do to build the discipline of overcoming the obstacles that stand in the way of your dreams?

Your balance isn't mine

I ran 5.5 miles very gently this morning.

I hope I'm not overdoing it too soon.

Checking my iPhone log of my runs, it says that today my overall mileage, since I started on 1st January 2010, just clicked over the 1,500 miles total.

The word that kept coming up for me on this morning's run was 'Balance'.

I know that I love being around people, and I also love my own space.

I love music, and I also love silence and tranquility.

I love energetic activity, and I also love relaxing and chilling out.

Life is all about finding the right balance.

I used to struggle with opposites.

It made me confused, wondering why I couldn't work out which end of the spectrum I really liked. Surely one of them was the right one for me and I was just kidding myself on the opposite that also had appeal.

I thought it made me indecisive.

But now I understand that like day and night, hot and cold, breathing in and breathing out, life is all about a combination of differing extremes and tastes, and it's about finding the right balance between those extremes.

And it's also about finding the right balance for me.

The balance that is right for you and anyone else isn't necessarily going to be the right balance for me.

I have to find my own balance.

Then it works for me.

Two of my best ideas

It was one of those morning runs full of ideas this morning.

I had to grab Post-Its to write the ideas down, in case I forgot them, even before I did my post-run stretches.

A lot of my best ideas have come when I'm running.

When I first decided to go freelance back in my old IT days, that was while running in Regent's Park in London during my lunch break.

When I decided it would be a good idea to run the London Marathon whilst coaching people on my mobile phone, the idea came to me on a long Sunday run of eight or so miles.

Those two ideas, because I not only had them, but also acted upon them, have both had a dramatic impact on my life.

I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing for a living now if I hadn't had, and acted on, the first one.

I wouldn't have had my two most lucrative clients I've had to date if I hadn't had, and acted on, the second one.

What do you do that encourages your creative ideas, and how do you make sure you act on them?

Out of my own way

Another step in my running recovery.

As well as my mile-and-a-bit yesterday morning, I went to help out with the fantastic Sarah's Runners, last night, which I thoroughly enjoyed.

Then another mile-and-a-bit this morning.

With my finger noticeably improving on a daily basis, the mouth ulcer, which I've been suffering with for the past ten days, pretty much gone, and another progression with my running, my body is doing a superb job at the old healing process.

I've heard it said before, and I do think it's true, that sometimes we just have to get out of our own way.

If I was actually trying to heal myself from my running injury, my finger slicing and my mouth ulcer, I would have worried a lot about what was the best course of action, researched it in detail, tried various solutions and then fretted because I wasn't doing it properly.

Admittedly, I am doing a lot more stretching now, particularly after my running, but that is not so much healing , as learning from the previous errors of my ways, and adapting my habits so the same mistakes are less likely to be made.

I wonder in what other areas of my life could I do with getting out of my own way?

Dare to chase

As I ran past the entrance to some woods this morning, two dogs decided to chase me, barking in, what seemed to me, a threatening manner.

When you run away from dogs, I find that generally they carry on chasing you, and there is always the threat that they might bite you.

Sometimes of course, if they're guarding their home turf, they will get bored when you've gone too far past their territory, and then give up and saunter home.

However, you have to run fast to get away from them, and there is always the possibility that they won't get bored and think this is rather fun.

The best thing to do, in my experience, and what I did this morning, was to completely change direction, pull myself up to my full height and run towards the chasing dogs.

They lost a chunk of their bravery once they felt that they were the ones being chased.

They still barked but they no longer chased me.

Don't you find it's the same when you walk or run towards all your fears?

There is a brilliant film advert called DARE that is about moving towards your fear. It's well worth a watch. It's only 89 seconds long.

Untwisting what they said

Thinking about an argument I recently participated in, it's interesting how often it comes down to "you said blah blah blah".

Invariably the issue or the problem is not exactly what was said, and yet it ends up what we concentrate on.

How often do we get into an argument because somebody said something that for us had meaning 'X'?

When we eventually calm down and/or come to some sort of agreement, what the other person actually meant by those words was 'Y', not 'X'.

The important part of verbal communication is usually the meaning the speaker intends to communicate, which we are very adept at twisting into the meaning our own embedded patterns of listening expect.

How about the next time someone says something you feel upset by, stopping and checking with them, "when you say blah blah blah, do you mean you're feeling 'X'?"

You may just get to resolution a whole lot quicker.

Your own sunlight

It was very foggy and grey on my slightly longer 2-mile run this morning.

Being autumn, with all the remaining leaves on the trees and bushes still various hues of reds, oranges, yellows , browns and greens, it got me thinking about the difference it will make today, if the fog remains, in the way people will look at all the colours.

The truth is that in most cases they won't.

When the sun doesn't shine, casting its magical glow, we don't notice the glory that is still there, because the presentation isn't as dramatic.

One of my favourite inspirational quotes is David Hemery's, "There is a spark of greatness in everyone ".

The thing is, if that spark isn't recognised by the person who houses it, or by anyone else, it will be like those amazing autumn colours on a grey overcast cloudy day.

No one will give a second look.

But like the trees and bushes on a gloomy day, just because that sunlight isn't shining on them doesn't mean they don't contain the glorious colors.

What can you do to notice the spark of greatness in another, and fan that spark to turn on their own sunlight?

Your support team

This morning I completed my 690th consecutive day of running at least a mile.

10 more days to the next milestone, and 40 more to an even bigger one! It's very exciting.

Yesterday I attended my granddaughter's 1st birthday celebrations. It was a fantastic occasion with 27 family members present.

On my run this morning, I was thinking about that and how none of us succeed in life without our team of supporters in the background.

From Formula One drivers, to tennis players, to entrepreneurs, to parents, to teenagers, there is always a team behind the scenes.

Although it might look to others like we have succeeded on our own, I challenge you to think of one person who, when you look a bit closer, didn't have a support team behind them.

Who are your support team, whether they are family, work colleagues, mentors, or friends?

You couldn't have done it without them.

Have you told them that?

My Olympic chuckle

As I left the house for my late run this morning, a man I recognised as living in the next street was walking his dog and stopped me to ask if I was training for the Olympics.

He seemed so serious and when I said no, he asked if I was training for a marathon then, which I again said no to.

Whether he was serious or not, I ran off from him with a smile and chuckling to myself.

My value of fun was completely fulfilled, especially after the most fun I've ever had at a quiz, at an excellent charity quiz last night.

On being true to yourself

I met a good friend of mine, who worked for me as my coach a couple of years ago, yesterday at the Festival Hall, overlooking the Thames in the sunshine.

It really was glorious.

Anyway, when I was talking to him about my current strapline for my business, he pulled me up on it, saying that it didn't sound compelling because it didn't come out of me with conviction.

He reminded me of my very first strapline, which was "coaching people who hate to work", and how much truer to me that sounded when I spoke it then, and even still does now.

Once he pointed it out, I realised how right he was.

It's not easy to be true to yourself, particularly when you read something and you think, "Oh, that sounds good".

Before you change and adopt someone else's words, dreams or vision, make sure you check in to see whether you just think it just sounds good, or whether it's really you.

Thanks Antony, you're still a fab coach!

A little a day

This morning at the end of my run, looking at the time I took, I realised that the past few mornings I've started getting slightly faster.

Now, I'm talking dipping under ten minute miles here, so I'm not exactly talking fast, but it's a time I haven't been able to get to since my knee injury in June.

But the point is I hadn't really noticed the change. It was only when checking my GPS watch device that I realised that there had been a shift.

When you do something consistently day after day, each day on its own is not a big deal, but the cumulative effect does make a big difference.

As stated in the excellent books Bounce and Outliers, it takes somewhere near 10,000 hours of practice to achieve mastery in any complex activity or sport.

So, if there's something that you want to get better at, my formula is a little every day will make a real difference, eventually.

Have a nice day

Three people, all walking dogs, said "Good morning" to me this morning on my run.

There are two types of people, those that say "Hello" or "Good morning", and those that don't.

Actually that's not really true.

What is true is that we can all sometimes be in the mood or the space to notice others and say "Good morning", and sometimes we are so wrapped up in our own world, that someone speaking to us is an unwelcome interruption, which we ignore.

I know that many British people don't like the North American habit of saying "Have a nice day", because they think that it is just an automatic response and as such is insincere.

Having lived in Canada for nine years of my life, I don't see it that way. I like it.

In most cases, although people do say it automatically it still comes across as sincere to me.

Take politeness in general. When we hold the door for someone or give up our seat for an elderly person or a pregnant woman, or say "please" or "thank you", those are also automatic responses that we have been taught.

But it still makes us stop and think, however briefly, of another person.

Someone saying "Good morning" to me, especially presented with a smile, can give my whole day a lift.

It creates a connection, however brief, and lifts my spirits.

So the next time you pass someone when you're out, let go of your inner concerns for a few seconds, notice the person and wish them a "Good morning", or afternoon or evening.

You might just make their day.

You might even make yours.

And by the way, do have a nice day. Yes, really.

The moral of the headlights

On my run this morning in the dark, a car's headlights coming round the corner, on the unmade up road I was running on, lit up the trees and bushes along the side of the road showing me the beautiful oranges, yellows and reds of the autumn colours.

It made me think of the analogy of how someone in a good mood can light up a room, raising the whole energy of the room.

We all have the ability to shine a light on others or to dim their lights.

Acknowledging someone, encouraging them, showing them potential they didn't know they had, being a champion or supporter for them, or simply giving them our full attention are all ways in which we help shine a light on others and give them energy.

Conversely ignoring them, criticising them, pulling the rug from under their dreams, pointing out all their worst points will dim the light that's on them and will help drain their energy.

What can you today to shine a light on someone else to help them release their potential?

This is how it should be

I managed to let go yesterday.

A request was made of me that, at the time, felt inconvenient, and it wasn't how I had planned to be spending the next hour or so.

So why didn't I say no?

Because I felt guilty at saying no. Probably because I usually do say no.

So, I said yes. At first it was a bit begrudgingly, but I decided to try and let go of that because I knew that I wouldn't be able to be present if I didn't.

And do you know what?

I really enjoyed it.

When I fail to let go, I spend the entire time in "this isn't how it should be" mode, and I'm right.

But what isn't how it should be is me holding on to that righteous feeling of justification and indignation.

As soon as I let go of that yesterday, it was exactly how it should be, and I had a great time.

Maybe I was able to let go because I'd just watched Louie Schwartzberg's presentation and film on gratitude.

Take a look, it might help you to let go too.

The miraculous body

This morning on my run, and after in the shower, I was thinking about how much I take for granted.

For example, my running glove won't fit over my heavily bandaged right ring finger so this morning I had to have it loosely pulled over the end of my hand and flapping about.

In the shower I had to tie a plastic bag over my right hand, so as not to get the bandage wet, and wash with my left hand. Something that feels very foreign to me.

And all this because I'm trying to protect the end of one finger so that it can repair as quickly as possible.

I'm sure that once it's better, this will all be forgotten and I'll be taking the use of all ten fingers and thumbs for granted once again.

But while I'm having to do things, and think about them, slightly differently, it's an opportunity to marvel at what incredible miracles our bodies are.

The thought that under my bandage, my finger is (hopefully) regenerating itself after I made a bit of a mess of it, and I'm not even having to think about that or plan how I'm going to heal it.

My body heals itself and my conscious mind is completely unaware of it happening.

It's a thought for those people who say things like "I hate my body".

Whatever shape, size or colour your body is, it is truly awesome and miraculous.

The nurse who made my day

I spent a couple of hours in the A&E section of our new local hospital yesterday, having almost grated the end off one of my fingers (hence no post yesterday).

The nurse, who had been very business-like and serious, and was trying to re-attach the skin flap at the end of my finger asked me what I did for a living.

When I told her that I was a business and life coach, her face lit up and she said, "Oh, how wonderful. That must be so nice being able to help people like that."

I confirmed that indeed it is.

A few minutes later when she was thinking about me leaving and getting home, she asked me whether I drove there or was I driven.

When I said that I was driven, she perked up, "that's perfect as a coach to be able to say "I was driven"."

Her enthusiasm and humour turned the whole experience from a bit of a tiresome and painful ordeal to an uplifting experience for me

I walked out of there smiling at the end.

I didn't get her name but I thank her anyway for making my day.

Making space for clarity

I completed my 680th consecutive day of running a mile this morning.

I was thinking on my run of how I was struggling with lack of clarity yesterday. The first thing I had to do to allow more clarity was to create more space.

Space in terms of removal of physical clutter.

Space in terms of dealing with emails.

Space in terms of dealing with tasks.

The most important part of all those things wasn't completing them. It was removing the clutter from my presence.

In the case of physical clutter, it was putting the most obvious things back in their places, and piling the rest out of sight but with a task on my to do list to spend time sorting the rest of the pile.

In the case of emails, it was moving the most important ones to an Actions folder and either adding them to my to do list or putting them in my diary with a definite date & time. Then it was putting the rest in a Temporary folder, once again with an action to spend time clearing the temporary folder.

In the case of tasks, it involved either adding them to my to do list or putting them in my diary again.

Now the most important thing is to make sure all physical clutter, emails and tasks get dealt with or allocated as they arrive.

My head is much clearer now.

Why fun is important

Fun is one of my core values, as it also happens to be for many of my clients.

In other words it's something that is always present when our work and our lives are really satisfying and fulfilling.

Fun means something slightly different for each of us.

For some it's carrying out practical jokes on others.

For others, it's sharing funny stories of things that have happened to them, or even others.

It can also mean having a good belly laugh at a comedian, or even playing sport with a friend or group of friends.

One of the most important things for me is that fun brings an air of lightness, lifting some of the heaviness or intensity that I can get drawn into when I'm concentrating on doing a good job.

There's a quote I like from Margot Fonteyn -

"The one important thing I have learned over the years is the difference between taking one's work seriously and taking one's self seriously. The first is imperative and the second is disastrous."

I thoroughly agree, and I think that it's important to not take yourself seriously even when you're undertaking serious work.

It's something I have to be reminded of on a regular basis.

Tips for increasing clarity

On my run this morning, I was thinking that one of the main things that is missing in people's lives at the moment is clarity.

Many people are feeling confused.

They're confused about where they're going.

They're confused as to whether they're on the right track.

They're confused about how they can get on the right track.

They're confused about what they should do next?

The first thing that anyone who is feeling confused needs to do is to name what it is they're confused about.

Next, they need to ask themselves what it is that is making them ask the question (i.e. "Where am I going?"; "Am I on the right track?"; "How can I get on the right track?"; or "What should I do next?")

Another great question to ask at this point is "What's wrong with doing nothing?"

Whatever comes up from these simple questions is a great starting point for digging deeper and increasing clarity.

The danger of a goal

I re-read a blog post I like called "The best goal is no goal" this morning, which in turn got me thinking about the difference between a goal and a vision.

Viktor Frankl, in his classic book "Man's Search For Meaning", tells the story of a fellow inmate in the same concentration camp as him, who tells Viktor of his dream that the war will be over for him (the other inmate) by a certain date a few months in advance.

When the date is about to arrive and it's clear that nothing is going to happen, the fellow inmate falls ill, goes downhill rapidly and dies from typhoid the following day after his predicted date of escape.

Having very clear solid goals, whilst very motivating when striving towards them, can have the complete opposite effect and be the source of despondency when we have gone past them and are looking backwards having not achieved them.

And we all know that life cannot be predictable at the best of times.

Think of those poor people on a journey in their cars on the M5 the other day, who never completed their expected journeys.

For me, a vision is less structured than a goal, it doesn't necessarily have a definite end date, and often, although the 'what' of the goal may be reasonably clear, the 'how' is evolving as you move along.

A good vision also releases attachment to the 'how' with a liberal dose of curiosity, such as "That's not at all what I expected. I wonder how that can still help me achieve my vision?"

What if today...

What if today was the last day of your life, and you knew it?

What if today was going to be the best day of your life?

What if today you knew that an opportunity would show up that could transform your life for the better forever, but that opportunity would be hidden in an ordinary moment that, if you weren't aware, would disappear forever?

I read a quote from Thich Nhat Hanh on a blog this morning, just before I went out for my run. It was what sparked my above thoughts.

The quote was, very simply: "Smile, breathe and go slowly".

I think that piece of wisdom would serve in all of my above questions.

Removing the creative block

When I was running this morning, I realised that whenever I'm working hard trying to think of what I'm going to write for my blog post, it's never that successful.

It usually results in me thinking how the time is ticking away, which increases the pressure on me to come up with the right answer as soon as possible, which in turn makes it tougher still.

What I always end up doing is concentrating on my breathing while I run, and maybe taking stock of different parts of my body, to check in with how they're feeling.

When I let go of having to come up with a topic for my blog, and divert the conscious part of my brain by checking in to what's going on for me in the here and now, it gives the subconscious part of my brain permission and the space to do its thing, which is being creative.

My subconscious invariably comes up with the goods.

What can you do to divert the conscious you, and let your subconscious do the creative work?

HALT, don't go there

On my run this morning I was thinking about a very recent event where I reacted with what was not the most diplomatic or planned of responses.

This, in turn, raised the general temperature level of the discussion, which then, as a consequence, took a long time to come back down to room temperature.

I remembered the acronym HALT that I heard recently.

HALT stands for Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired.

HALT is a reminder to stop whatever it is that you're doing whenever you find yourself feeling hungry, angry, lonely or tired, and focus on taking care of yourself in whatever way is appropriate to take you out of that state.

So if you're hungry, concentrate on eating something; if you're angry do whatever you need to do (count to 10, go for a run or a walk, breathe deeply) to quell your anger; if you're lonely, telephone someone or go and see them; and if you're tired, get some rest, listen to some energising music, or even take some exercise.

Next time I'm feeling tired and am about to say something maybe I shouldn't, I'll try and remember to HALT myself.

Thoughts as medicine

I was puddle-jumping, fairly unsuccessfully I might add, around my mile-and-a-bit course at 5.30 this morning in the dark with the rain lashing down, and I was enjoying myself.

At one point I was thinking about the new Channel 4 series, The Food Hospital, where they are exploring using food as medicine.

The idea that's it's really important what we put into our bodies is not a new one to me, and it's always quite surprising on these sorts of TV shows how it seems to be a revelation to so many.

But the idea of being able to use food as medicine, I really love.

I would far rather be keeping myself healthy through the food I eat and my regular running than rely on pharmaceutical alternatives, which quite often come with their own unpredictable side effects.

The other thing that I think you can use as medicine is the thoughts and ideas that you allow to settle and take control of your mind.

Have you ever heard the expression "attitude is everything"?

I believe that to be true.

If your attitude is negative you tend to turn in on yourself, feeling sorry for yourself, wondering what the point is, expecting things to turn out badly, and then wondering "what's the point" when they do.

You're not someone others are drawn to when you're in "this space".

When your attitude is positive, you look outwards wondering what the day will hold, you feel joyful, expect things to turn out well, and even when they don't, you find the positive in the experience and look for the next step forward again.

You become someone that others like to be around because they feel the effect of your positive energy.

I met a lady on Monday, when I was coaching a group of 31 teaching assistants, who told me how she had healed herself of cancer by creating what she called an "alpha state" in her mind every morning.

She refused the chemotherapy she was recommended and managed to rid her body of the cancer that had started in one of her internal organs and spread to her lymphatic system in a period of six weeks.

She is now teaching her process to cancer sufferers and others who are trying to stay healthy.

To quote Mahatma Gandhi:

"A man is but the product of his thoughts. What he thinks, he becomes."

It's only table tennis

My elder daughter, who is an actress and dancer, called me yesterday to say that she was really excited as she had just come out of an audition for a major West End production and had done really well.

She even heard the panel talking to each other about how good she had been as she was leaving.

The funny thing is that she is pretty busy working at the moment so she's not desperate to get the job. It would be great but it wouldn't be the end of the world if she didn't.

While I was running this morning I thought about this in relation to Tim Gallwey's 'P = p - i' formula, which stands for Performance = potential - interference.

The interference is usually the negative self talk in our heads - "I'm going to make a mess of this"; "I really need this desperately so I mustn't go wrong"; "I hate this feeling of pressure".

The thing is, the more we concentrate on what might go wrong, the more our subconscious puts our energy on things going wrong and we lose our natural flow.

Matthew Syed talks about this as the "choking effect" in his book "Bounce".

He says that in order to reach high levels of performance, a performer must believe that performing well means everything. However, that belief is the same one that can cause them to "choke" in a critical performance.

Matthew, who was an international table tennis champion, developed a technique where he would think about his health, his family and his relationships and then finished with the affirmation "It's only table tennis" just before an event.

This was his way of quieting his interference.

How do you quiet your interference?

What lenses are you wearing?

On my run this morning, I was thinking about yesterday evening riding my bike in the dark.

Whenever I ride my bike I wear a pair of sunglasses that have 3 sets of interchangeable lenses.

I wear them to stop bugs, dust or small stones thrown up from a car flying into my eyes.

When it's really sunny I wear my darker lenses, when it's cloudy with odd glimpses of sun I wear the orange lenses, and when it's really overcast or dark, like last night, I wear my yellow lenses, which brighten everything up.

It made me think about the lenses that we choose to wear behind our eyes, as well as the ones in front.

When I'm in a bad mood, I'm dreading what's about to happen, or I'm upset or feeling like a victim, it's like looking through my darkest sunglasses even though it's overcast or dark outside.

I'm unable to see any possibility at all. In fact I can hardly see anything outside myself at all. The only things that are really visible to me are the pain or discomfort inside me.

When I'm on my metaphorical bicycle in dark conditions with my darkest lenses it doesn't really feel possible to be going anywhere on my bike. The safest option is to get off it and push the bike home.

However, when I wear my yellow lenses, even cloudy skies appear to me that there is a glow of light trying to break through, and in autumn the colours of all the turning leaves are turned up to technicolour level.

Like my trusty pair of cycling glasses with the interchangeable lenses, we get to choose what tint the lenses are that we wear behind our eyes too.

What colour lenses are you looking out from behind your eyes with at the moment?

What difference would it make if you swapped them for your rose-tinted or sunny yellow ones?

What might you be able to notice that you can't even see now?

I bet you could go even further on your bike and the ride would be fun too.

The problem with comparing

I was thinking on my run this morning how warm it was considering it's the 1st of November today.

Warm compared with what? Warm compared with how cold it can often be in the month of November.

That got me thinking about how often I compare whatever I'm thinking of with something else.

That song sounds like another song by a different band. That person reminds me of someone else. I did that better, or worse, than I did it last time.

I compare things all the time.

I think that there's also an implied scale of good or bad in these comparisons.

If it's warm compared to typical November weather, surely that must mean that it's good, whereas if it was much colder than I ever remember it in November, I may well consider it to be bad.

It seems to be human nature to compare, and yet it's not something we're born with. We develop the ability to compare with experience.

But is it necessarily a good thing?

Young children look at everything with fascination, awe and curiosity, whereas by comparing what I look at, I've automatically built in an element of satisfaction (if it's better than what I'm comparing it with) or disappointment (if it's worse).

What would it be like if I could drop my comparisons and pretend that I've never experienced this before? This is also true because every day, every person, every song, every experience is completely unique in its own right.

What if I suspended all comparisons and looked at everything with fascination, awe and curiosity again?

I think that would be a good thing.