Mantras

Welcome to a space on the internet that I hope you find some refuge in. I’m not selling you anything, I’m not prescribing you anything. I’m just telling stories, in the form of a letter, written from me to you.

That’s it. An email that you want to open, an email you are pleased to see, an email that should improve your day every damn time. Twice a week.

I wanted to make the first of these letters a good one. A positive one. One that left you with warm and fuzzy feelings. They won’t all be like that. Some may make you cry. All, I hope, will ask you to reflect. Some may piss you off, some may spark something new.

This one…well, this one is about me. When I was 10 and the moment I discovered my mantra.

I didn’t know that at the time. I was ten. Who the fuck knows what a mantra is or what it’s intended for at ten? When you’re ten, you don’t have any understanding of the power of your needs and desire to lead you to success. You just think life is life, a day is a day, leading nowhere in particular but here to live and enjoy and get through without getting into trouble.

But I used to play tennis and my coach was tired of my inconsistency. I was strong - my first serve was a powerhouse thanks to my shoulders after years and years of swimming training - but I was also scatty, uncontrolled, unreliable. When my first serve went in, it was unreturnable for anyone in my age category. But it didn’t go in that often and I’d lose my head and, subsequently, the game.

And so, during one coaching session my coach said, “You need a mantra.”

“A what?” I asked, barely disguising my impatience.

“A mantra. Something you say to yourself to focus your mind. Something that deposits you in a positive place. Something that you can use to get that killer first serve in every time.”

I was confused. I thought my issue with my serve was physical. It was a skill that was lacking, a technique that was absent. It wasn’t mental. I couldn’t talk my way into an ace.

He said, “Every time you’re about to serve, I want you to stop and repeat this phrase three times: I have the power. I am invincible.”

I know, I know. Could you get any cheesier?

But, I listened to this guy despite the fact I was 99% sure he was batshit crazy and noted that it may be time to find a new coach. But until that was possible, I’d repeat that phrase.

And you know what? My first fucking serve started to go in. I’d changed nothing physically. I’d made no technical changes to anything other than my mind.

“This is magic,” I thought to myself. All of a sudden, the man I’d written off as crazy, I now saw as a wizard.

“Why does it work?” I asked.

“Because anyone can train their body to play tennis,” he said, “but the ones who can train their mind to play tennis? Well, they have the power to change the game.”

I don’t play tennis anymore but I still say “I have the power. I am invincible,” to myself at least five times a day.