Josie's superpower

Figure It Out

Chapter Eighteen of The SuperPower of Service

Most kids are asked to fetch the remote or take out the garbage. But when you grow up with a house and a store on the same property, you tend to become the human shopping cart. At least once a day, my mom would send me down to grab whatever she had forgotten, onions, milk, bread. I didn't mind. I got to see my dad, wave at customers, maybe sneak a piece of candy from the ten-cent aisle. Then I'd head back up the house, arms full, and deliver what was needed.

And then there was the day when I was thirteen, one of those routine trips down to the store turned into a life lesson I carry with me still. Some might argue I use it every day. Honestly, I'd say I use it every hour.

That afternoon, Mom handed me a longer list: eggs, milk, potatoes, and shampoo. I gathered them all and, true to form, told my dad I didn't need a bag. I never wanted one. For me, it was always a game, how many things I could balance and carry on the climb back to the house. The challenge was half the fun.

So I stacked everything in my arms and trudged up the hill. When I got to the back door, I could see Mom standing in the kitchen. I called out, "Mom! Knock knock!"

She didn't budge.

So I tapped my toe against the screen door and shouted louder, "Mom! Get the door!"

This time she walked over, looked me straight in the eye, and said three words that would stay with me forever:

"Figure it out."

At first I thought she was joking. "Figure what out?" I yelled back.

"Jo, figure it out," she said, motioning toward the knob. And then she added, "Honey, one day I'm not going to be here to open the door for you, and you'll have to figure it out for yourself."

I was frustrated, arms aching, certain this was unfair. But she wasn't coming to help.

And for every ounce of patience I lacked I had twice the stubbornness. I was determined I was in fact going to figure it out.

So I started juggling the pieces in my arms, trying to find a way to make it all work. Eggs balanced carefully under one arm. Milk gripped tight like it might slip at any second. Potatoes wedged against my hip. Shampoo teetering like a prize on top. With a twist of my elbow and a shove of my shoulder, I managed to turn the knob, push the door open, and stumble inside.

I set everything on the counter and asked, "Are you happy?"

And she was. So very happy.

Not because I'd delivered the groceries, but because she had watched me do something I didn't think I could. She wasn't trying to make my life harder, she was trying to make me stronger, smarter, better. She was bridging the gap between what I believed about myself and what she already knew I was capable of. She believed in me more than I believed in myself, and she was cheering me on the whole time.

That's why she smiled. That's why she was happy. Because that day, she hadn't just sent me for groceries. She had given me a gift. A mantra. A power I would carry with me the rest of my life.

A gift. A mantra. A power for life.

Figure it out. It took me a while to understand it, but those words became my compass. They've reminded me again and again that obstacles aren't always barriers, they're puzzles waiting to be solved.

Want to start a business? Figure it out.
Want to write a book? Figure it out.
Want to build a culture where people feel like the most important person? Figure it out.

Looking back, it was also my first lesson in Yes, And. I had to accept that Mom wasn't going to open the door. I couldn't fight it or wish it away, I had to step into the reality in front of me and find another way. What felt like frustration became an invitation to learn, and it shaped the kind of person, and leader, I would grow into.

"Figure it out" never meant doing everything alone, or always taking the hard path. For me, it's meant finding courage when things felt heavy, creativity when the options seemed few, and resilience when the door wouldn't budge on the first try.

And much like my mom believed in me that day, I believe in you.

Because as we come to the end of this book together, I know challenges are waiting on the other side of these pages. Emails. Phone calls. Knocks on your door. Your own grocery list of problems and opportunities.

And although I might not always be here beside you, you have this book and the lessons it holds. This is your Superpower of Service. This is what you get to carry with you, practice, and share.

So when the challenges come, remember this:

You can, and you will, figure it out.

And if you ever need a little help, that's why I'm here.