The Power of Limiting Beliefs

This true story will get you thinking about potential solutions to your challenges in life.

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Last week, I told you a story about a rusty ladder that put me in a dangerous predicament but taught me a valuable lesson from the incident. This week, I have another gutter-cleaning story where I learned another priceless lesson. This incident occurred before last-week’s story. Both are true stories from my youth, which is how many of us learned some of our most prized life lessons.

I should mention that there are a lot of fictional books that portray a wise male mentor who guides the main character. The Alchemist and Way of the Peaceful Warrior come to mind. In my true-life stories, however, most of the lessons I’ve gained in life came from wise women—just thought it should be noted.

As I mentioned in my last story, when I was a teenager, I used to have a little business named Olson Odd Jobs, which I started at age ten and continued into my early twenties. I used to mow and rake lawns, do small landscaping projects, clean out garages and attics, move pianos and appliances, seal driveways, wash windows, and, as portrayed in my last story, clean rain gutters.

Most homeowners detested getting all black and sticky while sealing driveways, despised making their arms and elbows ache while washing windows, and absolutely feared getting onto ladders and leaning over rooftops while cleaning foul-smelling, mucky mud from leaf-clogged rain gutters. Oh the things I would find in those gutters: mice skeletons from a cat who left presents by a second-floor bedroom window, small toys from bored children who liked to throw things on the roof, and even a set of keys. I’ll bet there’s a good story behind that one.

My favorite window-washing and gutter-cleaning customers were the Whites. They were a charming, retired couple who had a house set deep in the woods. There wasn’t a neighboring house within sight, and it was so far off the road that you couldn’t hear any traffic. I loved working there because it was such a peaceful place to be, although I probably couldn’t have articulated why I liked it at that age. Nonetheless, because it was so peaceful, I liked working there on my own, rather than bringing one of the chatterbox high school kids who often worked for me. Consequently, when Mrs. White called me to clean their rain gutters one spring, I decided to go it alone.

Normally I never cleaned gutters without a helper just in case I fell off the roof or ladder. This time, however, I made an exception. For one, the Whites’ roof was rather flat. And two, I figured Mrs. White would be around since she was normally home when I worked there. But no sooner did I arrive when Mrs. White exited the house announcing she was leaving and that Mr. White was out golfing.

As I listened to the sound of her muffler dissipating as she drove away, I was quite pleased to be there alone. Once her car disappeared in the distance, the only sounds I could hear were birds singing and leaves rustling from the light breeze. It was a late spring morning and the sun was just awakening. I soaked in the tranquility of the solitude, noticing two baby squirrels playing and a monarch butterfly fluttering all around me.

Bob’s Subaru Brat in the 80s.

I took my time unloading my 24-foot ladder from my 13-foot Subaru Brat. I extended it to its full length and leaned it up against the rain gutter, making sure the lower rails dug into the ground. I grabbed my garbage bags and climbed up to the roof.

As I stepped onto the roof from my ladder, I accidentally kicked the ladder while swinging my leg around. The second it happened, I knew I was in trouble. I watched as the ladder slid off the gutter and fell toward the ground. I swear it happened in slow motion, yet there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop it.

I winced at the thought of the ladder smashing a window, hitting the house and damaging shingles, or crushing a well-groomed shrub on its descent. When I heard the ladder thump on the grass, I sighed in relief that it missed those potential obstacles.

I walked to the edge of the rooftop and looked down at my ladder below. That’s when I realized my predicament. I had no way to get down off the roof. Even if Mrs. White returned—although I had no idea when that would be—I was pretty sure the petite woman wasn’t going to be able to lift my 46-pound ladder from the ground to a standing position against the gutter.

I decided to clean the gutters and see what options might arrive once I was done.

The Whites’ home was an odd design. It was long and angled and there were no gutters in the back of the house, but the front and sides held more gutters than an average home. There were a lot of maple trees that shaded the house, so the gutters were packed with little buds that had fallen off the branches when the wind blew. We called these buds “helicopters” because of the way they twirled in the air as they floated to the ground. Considering the gutters were jam-packed with them, I knew it would take a couple hours to complete the job. So I figured I’d just clean the gutters from the rooftop and one of the Whites would be home before I was done.

Two hours later, the gutters were spotless but nobody was home. This, of course, was at a time in history when handheld cell phones weren’t yet a reality. With no neighbors within acres of the house, I sat on the roof with my garbage bags full of muck and leaves and waited... and waited... and waited.

I thought about my other customers who were expecting me to arrive. I thought about the bees who threatened to corner me without an escape route. And I thought about my late-morning snack, then my lunch sitting in a cooler in my Subaru. As each hour passed, I felt hungrier, hotter, and hopeless.

I considered jumping to the ground but knew the 15-foot drop was too dangerous.

I thought about hopping to the maple tree but wasn’t sure the closest branch would hold my weight.

I looked at the chimney and thought about Santa Claus. Nah!

Four hours after finishing the gutters, Mrs. White pulled into the driveway. When she got out of her car, she looked at me on the roof inquisitively.

“You’re still here. Forget something and came back?”

“No, my ladder slid off the gutter and fell to the ground. Been stuck up here all day.”

“Oh, you poor boy. Why didn’t you just use the painter’s ladder in the back?”

I stood there in a moment of silence. Without saying a word, I ran over the roof to the backside of the house (the side with no gutters) and there it was, a tall and shiny ladder leaning against the rooftop. I’m pretty sure I heard someone yell “Idiot!,” but it might have been my inner voice.

I walked up to the peak of the roof where I could see Mrs. White looking up in anticipation.

“I didn’t know it was there, so I never looked.”

Mrs. White stared at me, holding her hand above her eyes to block the sun, and said, “Sometimes the answer to our problems is right around the corner. We just need to believe one exists or we don’t even look.”

She smiled and walked into the house to let me absorb the lesson.

Thanks for reading. I promise this will be my last lesson from the gutter, but I hope you enjoyed it.

With love,
Bob

PS, In memory of Tony Bennett who passed away today, here’s a video of the icon belting out, “Fly Me to the Moon” like no one else can do. May he play among the stars in peace, love and joy.

Bob Olson is the host of Afterlife TV, author of two books, Answers About The Afterlife and The Magic Mala, and creator of the directory of psychics and mediums, BestPsychicDirectory.com. His newest venture is Bob Olson Connect, where you can read Bob’s articles before they become books.

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