Too bad life doesn't come with an instruction manual . . .
- robin4609
- Jun 14, 2021
- 3 min read

Or maybe if there was a personalized YouTube help video for each of us . . .
When we’re first delivered to the new world as a “bundle of joy”, wouldn’t it be nice, if along with our grand entrance, we received an accompanying instruction manual, tailored to each of us, with our exact specifications and directions for use? In some cases, we could even use a warning label.
But alas, that doesn’t happen. And instead, we’re left to learn about ourselves in our formative years with the help of loved ones and mentors. They educate us with instructions and guidance on common and accepted practices, usually with a spin based on their own personal preferences. For example, thanks to my Midwestern parents and their tendency to overcook meat, I never realized how good a “medium rare” steak tasted until I was an adult. (Good news for my children and next generations - that tradition has been squelched).
Probably for most of us, we end up stumbling and bumbling to figure out what makes us tick. Through OTJ (on-the-job) training, we try to decipher our likes and dislikes, interests, skills, aptitudes, passions, talents, pressure points, etc.
The problem - like snowflakes, each individual person is unique, equipped with his/her own qualities, gifts, quirks, and nuances. It sure would help, if from the beginning, we had that instruction manual to plot out the coordinates of our true “wheelhouse”. That way, it would ensure that the young musical prodigy was introduced early on to a piano, or the gifted thespian received a gentle nudge to participate in the grade school play.
Over the years I’ve had the privilege and honor to work with some incredibly talented people and see them in action - it’s been amazing to watch. The one common theme that I’ve seen in these type of individuals is their tendency to discount or downplay their gift or talent, because it comes so easy to them. They feel that what they do is commonplace, anyone can do it, and it’s no big deal. And I’ve also come to recognize that such people are often challenged in other seemingly straightforward and/or mundane areas that might come naturally and easily for someone else.
The bottom line is that we all have our own personal "electromagnetic spectrum", with certain wavelengths that are visible and obvious, and others that are invisible to us and beyond our detection. And the challenge is that everyone's is unique.
The truth is that our personal instruction manual is a continual work-in-progress. Our “wisdom quiver” grows with the addition of each “experience arrow” as we road test ourselves (of course, with a few accidents along the way). Over time, we gradually become comfortable and confident in what we know, and more importantly, of what we don’t know. Much like an umpire’s strike zone, it gives us the ability to differentiate between balls and strikes, gracing us with the opportunity to “hit it out of the park” when a pitch is thrown in our wheelhouse, and knowing to “lay off” when it’s not.
That becomes the true gift of experience – the wisdom that comes from knowing which battles to fight on our own, and when to call in the specialty expert to join and help fight the battle with us.
But darn it, it would be a lot easier if we could just look up the answer in the manual!
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