Notes

Oh Gawd am I Really Writing a Motivational Article?!?
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There’s something inspiring in my home. No, not a shirt that says “never give up” nor an Etsy mug with comic sans font imploring me to “reach for the stars!”
Nor my cat. (I mean, I am inspired by her unwavering love and her boldness to fart right in my face, but that’s not what I opened a draft to write about today.)
I’m talking about the sign in the photo above:
A little chutzpah goes a long way.
I’m not sure how I ended up with this confident slab of wood, but it’s been in my family for a while. Yes, in the Tandet family, an heirloom is not a priceless necklace nor a painting — it’s a cheap knickknack with Yiddish. (Or should I say tchotchke?)
You see, though “chutzpah” sounds like it might be a culinary spice or a venereal disease, it’s actually a Yiddish word, meaning: supreme self-confidence : nerve, gall
Traditionally, its connotation is negative, used to describe someone rudely overstepping behavioral norms. You might say someone has “chutzpah” when you disapprove… are disgusted by their actions even. I’d say many US politicians have chutzpah in this way.
(It could also imply that the chutzpah-haver is devoid of human decency. So yeah, hellooo senators.)
But the usage has evolved. Nowadays, chutzpah is usually meant as a positive, admirable attribute. Someone who has chutzpah is bold, going after what they want and/or know is right with remarkable bravery — doubts or social scripts be damned.
Being the only one in a room to speak up to a lecturing boss requires chutzpah. Ditto applying for a job you’re not qualified for (but you want oh so badly and you believe in yourself, damnit). Many film heroes and heroines—especially those described as spunky or badass — are drenched in chutzpah.
Legally Blonde’s Elle Woods epitomizes it. Most lawmakers don’t.
I want more of it. I’ve lived much of my life thinking feebly and acting timidly. Or acting feebly and thinking timidly. I’ve allowed my self doubts to take the reins and hold me back. I’ve obeyed the expected scripts, acting within the narrowly accepted boundaries for someone of my age, gender and other social markers.
I’ve feared inconveniencing other people. Embarrassing myself.
Embarrassing others. Hurting myself.
I know I should be brave, but knowing hasn’t provided enough fuel for acting.
And so-called motivational books (and speeches and drawings and Medium articles and pinterest boards and tweets and instagram accounts and podcasts and candy wrappers and unsplash photos) don’t help.
They make living a brave life seem like an all-or-nothing pursuit.
You must dive immediately into the deep end, no wading. You have to be Tony Robbins! Or Oprah! Or Moana! …at their peaks! All the time! No holding back!
In other words, you need A LOT of chutzpah. You should reek of it, ooze it, radioactively beam it out, ready to bulldoze anyone and anything foolishly standing in your way.
Yikes. That’s not motivational to me; that’s absurd. It’s an intimidating challenge that leaves me unable to take any action, afraid of falling short. Of letting my doubts show.
But my modest wooden sign/family heirloom is motivating in its practicality. A little chutzpah goes a long way.
A little chutzpah. A little? That I think I can do.
Related items from my memoir, unlikely to ever be written:
I Hope You Like this Piece I Wrote About How I Don’t Care What People Think of MeWill you pretty pretty please read this and love me? I mean, love this? medium.com
Self-Sabotage Secrets Revealed! Here’s My Daily Unwellness Routine#badvibesonly medium.com
This Too Shall Pass: 4 Simple Words to Help You Through Crappy Timesfree, easy-to-use mantra offer! medium.com

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