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“Expecting Adam” is Target’s Current Book Club Pick!

Expecting Adam Book Cover

Exciting News!

The Target Book Club has chosen Martha’s book, Expecting Adam, for their current book club pick.

It’s a special paperback edition that includes an all new afterward with an update on Adam and Martha.

Martha is thrilled to be selected and we wanted to make sure you all were among the first to know.

You can purchase the book online or pick it up your local Target store

You can also find recent videos of Adam in the “Adam Zone” on Martha’s Expecting Adam page on her website.

Flipping the Switch to a Happier Life

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Lately I’ve been happily devouring Chip and Dan Heath’s book Switch: How to Change Things When Change Is Hard. The Heaths’ advice is enlightening on many levels, and has added some gangbuster techniques to my coaching tools. See how you like this one.

The Heaths suggest that it’s crucial to look for “bright spots” where we’re already succeeding, then replicate those results in other areas. Most of us look for “dark spots,” in our own lives, in our loved ones’ lives, in the world generally. As you may know, the reptile portion of our brains is tuned to danger, and the storytelling brain area takes ANY evidence of danger and perpetuates it through our personal Top Ten Tunes o’ Terror.

I’m a danger-story champion, but today I’m following the Heaths’ advice, so every time a dark spot turns up in my own mind, I’ll find a corresponding “bright spot” to replace it (or at least balance it). I’ll call this “Flipping the Switch.”

Step 1: Flip the Switch By Finding Brights to Balance Darks
Dark Thought: This morning, I didn’t get through to the woman I was coaching.
Bright Spot: But I got through to her husband.

Dark Thought: I barely talked to my son while I drove him to his workout.
Bright Spot: Adam thrives on silence, and he’s psychic, so he knows I love him.

Dark Thought: There are so many new technologies, and I can barely send email.
Bright Spot: I did eventually learn how to email.

Dark Thought: I haven’t finished my book.
Bright Spot: But yesterday I wrote 11 pages.

Step 2: Replicate the Bright Spots
Now my job is to replicate the conditions that caused the bright spots to occur. I’ll see what led to my successes, then extrapolate to other situations, which I basically manage by saying “Hmm…” Like this:

• I got through to my male client because I put very little pressure on him. Hmm: Put less pressure on clients.

• Adam’s psychic, so he knows I love him. Hmm: I sort of believe almost everyone can sense love at a distance. Hmm: Try just beaming love to my many adored ones, and see if they feel it.

• I learned how to email because I made a friend who preferred communicating that way. Hmm: When I want to learn a computer skill, I’ll get a friend who wants to learn it with me.

• I wrote 11 pages yesterday because I set an “action trigger”: while at the gym I pictured walking home, drinking a smoothie, and then writing. Hmm: Action triggers (visualized sequences of behavior) work. I’ll set another one to get me working on my book today. Let’s see…I’ll eat some Key Lime pie, sing along with three feisty Sheryl Crow songs, then write.

Having done this exercise, I’ve stopped brooding about my failures and begun seeing spots-bright spots. I feel way more motivated already. See if “flipping the switch” like this can work for you!

How You Got Here Is How You Walk Here

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My friend Dan believes that our whole lives are metaphorically prefigured in the story of our respective births. I’ve been asking everyone, to see if I agree, and I have to admit Dan has a point.

My own birth was pretty normal except that I was huge—10 pounds, 14 ounces. Eight years later, when I went to get allergy shots, the pediatrician’s nurse looked at my chart and then cried out in what sounded like horror, “Oh, my gosh, you were that enormous baby!” And, indeed, there are still plenty of people who’ll tell you I have far too big a footprint on the earth.

I’ve written about two of my children’s births in different memoirs: Adam came into the world triumphantly peeing in the face of an obstetrician who would rather have performed his abortion; he has lived as a walking testament to the value of being different. Lizzy’s birth was early and easy, just like her departure from home (she’s 19 and already living in Japan). My first child, Katie (sorry, I mean Kat) almost stalled out because I was trying too hard to give birth perfectly. I was in labor for 40 hours before I finally had an epidural, fell asleep, and relaxed. Then she popped right out. And since then, she’s always held back until she’s sure before going ahead with anything.

What was your birth story? If you know it, think about how it might inform your life right now. Call your mom and get the details—I promise, giving birth is something most of us can talk about until were blue in the face (and many of us were, right around the time our babies emerged.

Dan suggests that you close your eyes and rest for the circumstances of your own birth; for your mother, your father, siblings, other relatives, friends. Soften the pain and magnify the joy of the event. Retroactively fill it with as much love as it will hold (hint: a lot). It’s worth the time. After all, I think it’s pretty safe to say it was one of the most important days of your life. Then, as Kabir suggested, “hold each moment as I did my son when he was born.”

WORLD-SAVER SIDEBAR: CAMPFIRE STORIES ABOUT THE TEAM

 

I’ll keep blogging away about the methods the Team needs to save the world, but I also want to pepper this blog with my favorite profiles of, and stories about, some of our Teammates. For thousands of years, humans spent their evenings sitting around a fire, sharing experiences, ideas, and dreams (that’s why TV is such a hypnotically compelling attention-getter; because it’s a flickering light that tells stories). and So I want to tell a few campfire stories by the light of your computer.

I know dozens of Teammates now, from all over the world—some rich and famous, some obscure but amazing, all currently experiencing a sense of quickening.But the first person I want to mention is the one who convinced me the Team was real:My handy-dandy portable blond Zen master and Number One Son, Adam Beck.

I wrote a whole memoir about my experiences gestating and giving birth to Adam; he was prenatally diagnosed with Down syndrome when I was a PhD candidate at Harvard, and the entire event was life-changing for me.I had so many mystical experiences that it blew my rationalist world-view to smithereens.But there are things I didn’t put in that book, because I didn’t understand them.Now, as Team Time approaches, pieces are falling into place in the particularly spine-tingling way that things tend to happen around Adam.

Before Adam’s birth, I began believing in miracles, and this led me to hope I could magically “fix” him so that he’d be born “normal” (of course, he’s a totally normal person with Down syndrome, but I couldn’t wrap my head around that for a while).When the miracle I wanted didn’t happen, I wondered what Adam’s reason for being actually was.I never believed that he was “here to teach others,” as many people told me.I sensed he had his own life mission, but what could that be?I used to ask him, as I put him through the newborn “early intervention” exercises we did for hours every day.No answers came during the day.

But at night, when I was dreaming, Adam answered.

 

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