There’s a coaching exercise I’ve used called A Peak Moment in Time. The client remembers a moment that was memorable or poignant in some way.  These brief slices of time stay with us, like the photos we choose to save. Looking at them helps us clarify what we hold dear, what we value.

Recently, one of my own peak moments came rushing back, clear as the winter night on which it occurred, 20 years ago. It was 7:15 on a Tuesday evening. I was driving north on Manhattan’s FDR Drive, having just left work and rushing (as usual) to an appointment. It was March, warm inside the car, but icy cold inside my skin. Or should I say inside my second skin, which my near constant anxiety had become.

I had worked too late, deluding myself into thinking there would be no traffic. Like a gambling addict, I kept thinking I was going to win this time. 5 minutes late at most. As 5 minutes late became 10 minutes late became 15 minutes late, that second skin was contracting, compressing my insides, my limbs, my breathing.

In those days, that was so familiar to me, I wasn’t even aware of it. But I was aware of the thoughts racing through my head and the pounding in my chest. Because now I was going to have to call. I was going to have to say I would be late. Not just to the person I was meeting but to myself. The jig was up! Gabby the Gambler was now in the hands of Janie the Judge. And Janie was merciless. Especially since Gabby was such a repeat offender.

But here’s what transformed this into a peak moment versus just another Tuesday. When I called the person I was meeting, they said, “It’s OK. Be safe. See you when you get here.” And in a split second, those words, “It’s OK,” like some superhero, vaporized my suffocating second skin, vanished Gabby and Janie, and freed me to be alone in the quiet, warm peace of my car. Others on the road, who mere seconds ago were mortal enemies in my quest to conquer time, were now my friendly travelling companions, their headlights helpful beacons on our pleasant journey. It was magical. Yes, there were behaviors not serving me that I could, and indeed would, work on. But who I was, in my soul, was “OK.”

As I look at this image in my psychic photo album, I see the liberating power of acceptance, how it helped me befriend rather than belittle myself, and how that ultimately empowered me to make changes much more than Janie ever did (probably why I am seeing less and less of her).

Here’s to your discovering the magic of being OK!