Well, Look What I Can Do!

I have spent the last few days bragging to anyone who will listen that I dismantled four computers.

Yes, me.

I took them apart, found the hard drives, removed them, and hauled the whole mess off to be recycled. And I am ridiculously proud of myself.

Now, those of you who know me may understand why this is such a big deal. I am not a technology person. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for years.

Except lately, I’m beginning to think I may need to edit that particular story, because when I started looking around, I realized something: I do a LOT of things with technology.

I created my own website, where clients can book and pay for sessions and buy my books. I built that!

I create and edit videos. I record and edit audio. I use email marketing programs and social media platforms. I teach classes and work with clients on Zoom. I create graphics. I troubleshoot things that don’t work. I’ve learned new programs because there was something I wanted to accomplish with them.

And for goodness’ sake, I’m currently helping someone else create a website. That one cracks me up.

Somewhere along the way, without ever deciding to become “good at technology,” I apparently learned how to do quite a bit of it.

And technology isn’t the only example. I’ve learned how to scuba dive, back up a horse trailer, calibrate a herbicide sprayer, take stitches out of a horse, install tile, make soap, drive a tractor, and change a tire.

And I wrote three damn fine books.

There. I said it.

What strikes me is that I didn’t know how to do any of those things until I did. I learned. I asked questions. I got help. I made mistakes. I got frustrated. Sometimes I walked away and came back later. And I spent an entire afternoon trying to restore one ancient iPhone before finally accepting that the darn thing had won. Apparently, knowing when to quit is a skill, too.

But somewhere in all of this, I realized how easy it is to let “I don’t know how to do that” quietly become “I can’t do that.” And those are not the same thing.

Not knowing how simply means we haven’t learned yet. We don’t have to know everything before we begin, and we certainly don’t have to figure it all out by ourselves. Asking for help doesn’t make the accomplishment any less ours.

I certainly didn’t dismantle those four computers without help. I had someone walking me through what I was looking at, what to unscrew, what to keep, and what I could safely get rid of.

But you know whose hands were holding the screwdriver?

Mine.

And I think that may be what has stayed with me most. Capability doesn’t always arrive before we begin. Sometimes we discover what we’re capable of because we began.

Last week, I asked you to think about who you were before you were edited. I’ve been thinking about how our ideas about what we can and cannot do get edited, too.

Somewhere along the way, we collect ideas about ourselves:

I’m not creative.

I’m terrible with money.

I’m not good with technology.

I could never start a business.

I can’t write.

I’m too old to learn that.

I’m just not someone who does things like that.

Some of those stories may have been true once. Some may never have been true at all. And some may simply be outdated.

Because if you stopped for a moment and took inventory of your own life, I wonder how much evidence you might find that contradicts what you’ve been telling yourself.

So this week, I have a different question for you:

What are you doing today that an earlier version of you would have sworn you couldn’t do?

Really think about it. You may have been so busy learning, growing, trying, failing, asking for help, trying again, and simply living your life that you haven’t stopped long enough to notice just how much you can do.

I hadn’t.

Until I found myself standing over an open computer with a hard drive in my hand, thinking: Well, look what I can do.

And yes, I am still bragging about it.

Affirmation

I am capable, I am open to learning, and I trust myself to begin.

Journaling Prompts

• What am I doing today that an earlier version of me would have sworn I couldn’t do?

• What is something I still say “I’m not good at” or “I can’t do”? Is that actually true — or is it an outdated story about myself?

• What have I learned to do because I was willing to ask for help?

• Where in my life have I confused “I don’t know how to do this” with “I can’t do this”?

• What is something I would like to do, create, or try if I didn’t believe I had to know how before I started?

Wishing you a week of deep connection and gratitude.