Never Look Back
by
Marty Nemko © 2006
My father is a Holocaust survivor who lost his entire family to the
Nazis. After the war, he was dumped onto a cargo boat and dropped in
the Bronx, with no English, no money, no education, and
knowing no one. His first job was sewing shirts in a Harlem factory. On the weekend, he sold shirts he had sewn
on the streets of Harlem, out of a
cardboard box. He did that until he had saved up enough for the
first and last month’s rent on the tiniest, smelliest store in
New York City: 105 Moore St., Brooklyn. On one side was a live chicken market, spewing
the aroma of stale blood. On the other side was a Puerto Rican deli.
So the blood smell merged with that of chiccarones (deep-fried pork
intestines).
When I was about twelve, I asked my father, “Dad, how come you never
complain?” His response was the most important lesson anyone has
ever taught me. He said, “Martin, the Nazis took five years from my
life. I won’t give them one minute more. Martin, never look back;
always move forward.”
That lesson was so valuable because every time I’m tempted to look
back on the bad things that happened to me, I immediately think of
my father, then say “Stop,” and think, “What’s the next positive
thing I can do?” That has stood me in good stead.
My clients have also found it valuable. It has been particularly
effective with my clients who have had a lot of psychotherapy.
Therapy encourages them to look back, and inadvertently, to blame
their current problems on their past: being ignored or abused by
parents, being dumped by husband, or issues related to their race,
gender, or sexual orientation. Therapy may have given them insight
into themselves, but their life is no better. In fact, I’ve found
that many of my therapized clients have been made inert from all
that analysis of their past pain. Like a muscle that gets bigger the
more it’s used, therapized patients’ past pains take up an ever
larger part of their consciousness until it turns them into what I
call, therapy paralytics.
My father’s approach—constantly substituting forward
movements for backward thoughts—made his painful bad memories an
ever
smaller
part of his consciousness. It’s hard to be thinking back to the
Holocaust when your life is filled with thoughts about upcoming
work, relationships, hobbies, and fun.
I’ve read, listened to, and watched many interviews of highly
successful people. The vast majority of them minimize the impact of
the bad in their past. They’re always saying things like, “I guess
there probably was some racism but I just didn’t focus on that.”
I’ve recently added a phrase to my father’s dictum: “Don’t look
sideways.” I know people who don’t live in the past but are saddled
with such thoughts as, “I’ll never be as successful as my brother.”
Or “I feel so bad that my fellow classmates are all investment
bankers, lawyers and the like, with nice houses and nice cars, and
I’m still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.”
That sideways thinking is no more productive than looking backward.
Don’t compare yourself with anyone or societal norms. Simply ask
yourself, “What is the next positive step I can take?”
So, never look back; never look sideways; always move forward. I can
offer you no better advice.
The San Francisco Bay Guardian named Marty Nemko “The Bay
Area’s Best Career Coach.” His columns and an archive of his
National Public Radio San Francisco show plus excerpts from his
book, Cool Careers for Dummies,
which, in the Reader’s Choice Poll was rated the #1 most useful
career guide, are free on www.martynemko.com.
Copyright 2006 Marty Nemko, all rights reserved
