Winnie the Pooh Gave me Life... [part 1]

I was inspired by Clare C's The Importance of Reading the Instructions. I learned my greatest lesson almost too late, because I never read the instructions. Here's the Punch Line - on the back cover read the words: read page 3, Amy...

Upon my college graduation, my Uncle Bill gave me a book entitled "Pooh's Little Instruction Book", indpired by A. A. Milne. This was a cute gesture, charming even, but what could I ever learn from a silly old bear anyway? I thought, "Self, you do not know the true gift in this yet. Hold onto it." And that I did. I waited and waited.

I read the little book  time and again. Nothing. Annually, I would clean out the bookshelves of unwanted books for garage sales and used book stores (I mean, how long did I really have to hold onto my History of Rock and Roll text book from college, or that Sylvia Plath poetry book I bought during my "dark" phase in high school?). But I never could quite rid myself of Pooh's little book.

The cover grew weary (college was a long time ago), and the pages dogeared from years of thumbing. Still nothing.

Then I passed my Real Estate license exam, and I ran to Pooh's book. Surely I would uncover some little gem of wisdom that would serve me well in my new career (thank goodness I was no longer handling military contracts, and negotiating with generals, that no, they could not just have an extra million dollars worth of studies performed at the Space and Naval Warfare Systems Command). Nada. Aught. "Self, the book needs to go."

Fast forward a few months. Real Estate was working for me, but not really working. I was going through the motions, but my relationships seemed empty and vapid. I was being paid but felt disconnected. Naturally loquacious in nature, how could this happen? I was analytical, aggressive, and academic. Just what a professional should be, right?

The phone rings, my Uncle Bill passed away. I was suddenly faced with the notion that I had missed something. Something that would change my life. I just could not unearth the missing link. My Uncle Bill had nothing more than an eighth grade education, but you would never know it. His entire community of Clifton Forge, VA, loved him. Truly loved him. He was a citizen's man. An honorable man. A wise man. The kind of man you wanted to know just because he was compassionate and authentic.

We decided to have an estate sale, so I packed the car with my newborn and a few boxes of things to sell myself (the fighter pilot was sadly deployed). On top of one of the boxes was Pooh's Little Instruction Book.

The sale was a success. Not much leftover (always a good sign). In a box of old 45s, rested Pooh's instruction book. It did not sell. I had a tender moment of sadness, and opened the book. It felt like the first time. I flipped through the entire book for the first time, all the way to the end. On the back cover read the words: read page 3, Amy. I flipped through to the very beginning. There are no page numbers, so I had to manually count, (what if I started counting on the wrong page?) Or better still, what if I had counted correctly, and my outlook on life changes? And that it did my friends.

On page 3 is a quote from Winnie the Pooh - It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?" 

Lunch. That sentence changed my life. I had been wheeling and dealing, but never relating. And that is what life is all about - relating to one another. I grabbed that little book, and held it close to my heart. It changed my life forever. Life became authentic in that one moment. I was brought to life. And I brought that life into my business. And now I am known for my strong relationships and for making each of my clients feel like family.

Relating is paramount to any business. Without it, you have nothing. Nada. Aught. How different my life might be had I not read the instructions - read page 3, Amy. I carried this story closely, not knowing when the time was right to share it. Clare unleashed my story. My sincere gratitude to Clare, and to Uncle Bill. Who knew one rotund bear with very little brain, could impart such enlightenment.

If someone ever gives you an instruction book, however cutesy, hold onto it. The time might not be now that you can learn from it, but there will be a time. That I can guarantee you. Thank you for reading.