I’m wondering about this “new” theory that is life-changing—the two little words that people can’t stop talking about that Mel Robbins is probably going to make millions on.
Full disclosure: I haven’t read the book, so I’m not a reliable source. I’ve only read about the book, and those reports were pretty clearly at maybe a fifth-grade level.
You know what I’m talking about, I’m sure: Let Them. The theory that “will forever change the way you think about relationships, control, and personal power.” Or, you could essentially learn the Serenity Prayer and apply it to your everyday life.
In my day it was “Don’t Let the Bastards Grind You Down.”
Hundreds, maybe thousands of self-help books have broached the subject of living your best life by not allowing others to occupy your thoughts. You’d think we would have it by now. So why don’t we? Maybe because we’re social creatures and we need other people. And that need translates to caring what they think about us. Duh. Can we fight against that? Of course. Will we win? The jury is still out.
Toxic people have been identified as bad for us, and we’ve been warned to weed them out and not allow their energy to defeat us. Check. Narcissists are to be avoided at all costs. Check. Friends who criticize rather than propping us up are not really friends. Check. And on and on—ever since someone saw a way to make money by selling us on the next best idea to change your life for the better.
There’s nothing wrong with the book or the ideas in the book—in fact it’s all good advice that’s been re-marketed into a catchy two-word philosophy. Is it “ancient wisdom”? Perhaps. I bet some Tibetan monk had it nailed centuries ago. Is it science-backed? It is if it helps people. How can it be a bad thing? It can’t, not really. It’s just that Let Them is so obviously simplistic.
If you believe that you actually have no control over the actions of others, then you’re already most of the way there. I’m going to suggest that sometimes you can influence the behavior of others, especially the “others” who admire you or who believe you to be wise or at least to care about them. And vise versa. People you care about can influence your behaviour, too. Maybe that’s why people feel the need to buy a book written by a person with such impressive credentials. So she can influence your behavior? Do I sense some irony, here.
If you don’t embrace Let Them, does that mean you’re liable to slide back into caring what others think of you? Will you still compare yourself and find yourself wanting and/or happy to be better off? Probably. We have to fight that impulse every day. Because of that whole social animal thing we have. Remember no man is an island? The sum of the parts? Problems solved is a problem shared? Teamwork saves the day? Shall I go on? Okay, not.
People matter to us. Watch any person separated from their people. They will look and look, expressionless. Then they see their person. Big smile. Relief is visible. Hugs, laughter. Connections comfort us. Those same connections complicate our lives and cause certain people to write books helping us to not get sucked into unhealthy connections. I don’t wish anyone ill will; certainly not a writer. Writing is hard work, darn it. Taking a simple concept—love yourself—and stretching it out over x number of words on x number of pages (I told you I hadn’t read it) might be hard, too.
After all, I spent over 600 words pondering that simple concept.
I’d love to hear your take. I’ll even Let You.
Tag: love
The Narrowing Road
Amazingly, it’s 2025. A few months into this year will find me half-way through my eighties. And I didn’t get here alone. Even at this advanced age, some of my cherished friends entered the world the same year I did—too early to be baby boomers, but not by much.
When we began our journey, the road ahead of us was wide and seemingly endless. Some roads seemed straight ahead and obvious, while others veered off in one direction or another. Some were popular and beckoning. Others were winding and mysterious, with their own kind of appeal. Some roads were well lighted, others deep in shadow. Many contained potholes and barriers that needed to be dealt with. Some of us speak of difficult journeys; some admit to having it easy. Some went with the traffic, others against it. Some of us gladly left familiar behind, while others stuck around. Most of us were accompanied by companions—some for a little while, others for a very long time.
Now, in our eighty-fifth year, our roads are narrowing. We’ve been joined by people we care about—some related to us and some not. If we’re lucky, some of our friends are younger than we are, but some are our age. A few of us have loved ones who are infirm and need our help. Some of us need help ourselves. We’ve looked back at our individual journeys, and we’ve made peace with the choices we made. Some of those choices offered unexpected rewards, and memories of them bring smiles to our aging faces. Some we’ve come to accept as “not our best moments,” but we’re very far past blame and regret by now.
We’re aware that the vessel that brought us on our journey does not define us. The vessel is mostly still upright, and we’re grateful for that, but it’s not always at its best, and it doesn’t exactly jibe with our concept of ourselves. Some of our bodies seem to have been genetically destined and/or environmentally influenced to be in better working order than others. We compare notes on what still works and what doesn’t. For all of us, there are ailments, conditions, frailties, and sometimes injuries. Most of us are shocked, still, by mirrors. We make old-person noises and chide ourselves. We don’t hurry anymore. We fear falls, mostly because we’re not sure we’ll be able to get back up. Sadly, those fears are a reminder about that narrowing road.
But here’s the thing. We’re okay. Our core values are intact. We know ourselves to be fair-minded and compassionate toward others—all others. We know the difference between right and wrong. We know cruelty when we see it, as well as bombast, ugliness, and finger-pointing. We can tell the difference between the truth and lies. We know what we stand for and what we stand against. We’ve become who we are because of the people we encountered, the experiences we had, and the choices we made as we journeyed down our road.
The one that’s irrevocably narrowing.
Pat Ponders Life 