Awakening the Giant Within

When I was 17 something made me go out and buy a Tony Robbins book: Awaken the Giant Within.  The only reason I don’t feel like dork admitting that is because I was 17 and what kind of a jackass would judge a 17 year old?  ........Ok, I actually do feel like a dork admitting that I bought that book, but that is beside the point.... 

I read the book from cover to cover.  It had a profound effect on me.  It was such a positive voice, and I was grateful for the hope and possibility it presented.  Even at that time, though, I understood that there was a stigma surrounding Anthony Robbins.  He was viewed as sort of a dork himself, with big teeth, and admitting that you subscribed to his--- well, subscribed to him was a little like admitting that you watched that soap opera, Passions.  The one with the witches....

I kept that book on my shelf for years.  I admit that when boys came over, I would turn it around so just the white pages were visible (well, they were sort of yellowed with time) and no one could see that big, huge, tell-tale, Tony Robbins toothy grin.  Then, one day rather recently, I was trying to figure out what to do to help my husband’s daughter.  I don’t call her my step daughter.  I don’t think of her that way.  She’s more like a friend I have by default.  We probably wouldn’t choose to be friends if it weren’t for my husband, but we accept each other and have done a pretty nice job of embracing the situation.  

She has had a hard time finding the motivation to get on with her life.  She’s 21 and did not graduate from high school, is not interested in college, at the time did not have a job and was living at home with her mother and now with us.  I didn’t mind her living with us, but I did find her existence rather depressing.  She slept until noon or later, watched tv, text messaged her friends and “looked for jobs” on Craig’s list (I use the quotation marks because that was ostensibly what she was doing, but my husband and I can neither confirm nor deny her efforts to find a job and neither could she.)  

I wanted to help her without being a pain in the ass and alienating her.  My impression was that she didn’t feel very good about herself, that the reason she didn’t want to do anything was because she was afraid she would fail.  It seemed like she had been disciplined with criticism and judgment and it had taken its toll.  I went to my book shelf and pulled down all my self help books.  Well, not all of them.  I didn’t want to overwhelm her, but Tony and his teeth were at the top of the stack.  I told her it was kind of a silly book, and that the guy on the cover was obviously a dork, but that this book had really helped me focus on the positive and stop the rantings of negativity that roamed and ravaged inside my head.  I said, “Just read a little bit before you go to bed.  It’ll really help.”  I could tell this endeavor was dead in the water before we even got started.  She took the books and stuck them in the cubby beneath her bedside table and continued texting her friends.

Thinking creatively and positively, I thought, “This girl loves her iPod.  I’ll find a CD of Tony talking.  I’ve heard people swear by his tapes.  I’ll load up her iPod with inspirational speak from toothy Tony.  I googled “Tony Robbins” and found his website.  Of course he has a website.  And there I found a plethora of inspirational videos and testimonies and free mp3 downloads...well, I may have imagined the mp3s....

The other thing I found was a questionnaire to complete to apply for your very own personal coach: your own personal (possibly less toothy) version of Tony, hand selected to suit your needs.  “Wow,” I thought.  “That would be an amazing gift for my step daughter.  That would be amazing period.  I want one!”  I’d always wanted a personal coach.  What an unrealistic luxury that would be.  Having a personal coach seemed sort of like having an expensive parent, one that would cheerlead you through the downs of life, and tell you how great you are, while at the same time, omitting the fear and worry that most (my) parents have that things might not turn out the way you were wishing they would.

I felt like I do many times at Christmas when shopping for gifts for other people.  This is not the time to be shopping for myself.  I’m trying to help her.  I discussed the coaching with my husband.  He was reticent about spending so much money on yet another thing that probably wouldn’t shake his daughter out of her lethargy and apathy, and I understood his hesitation.  It was true.  We’d thrown good money after bad trying to give her the tools she wanted and needed to get up off her dead ass----I mean, get out there and face the world, and nothing had worked.  

After my husband fell asleep, I decided to fill out the online form.  That didn’t cost anything.  What could it hurt?  I did it and-- “whoosh” sent it off into the electronic super highway.

A few days later I got a call from a guy named Steve.  He asked me a lot of questions and told me about seven really inspiring stories in which Tony Robbins was a major character.  He talked to me for about an hour.  I liked Steve.  He was exactly the way I expected he would be: kind of feisty and scrappy in an appealing way, excited, positive and married to a super model.  He mentioned that a few times.  I thought it was cute.

So, I did it.  I signed myself up for a life coach.....