Wiggling My Ears

I can wiggle my ears.

It’s not something I list on résumés or bring up at dinner parties, but it’s true. A strange little skill acquired, not through practice, but through aaccidental curiosity. I remember standing in front of the mirror as a kid—eight, maybe—and thinking, I wonder if that’s possible. So I tried. And to my surprise, the ears wiggled. Just a little.

I think I saw it on TV—maybe a puppet?—and in the unquestioning logic of childhood, decided it was a life skill worth having. No one told me it was pointless. No one told me it wasn’t possible. So I just… tried.

Now, as an adult, I don’t try things like that. If such an idea crossed my mind today, I’d probably dismiss it immediately: not worth the time, not particularly useful, kind of silly. I’d much rather stare mindlessly into my phone, watching cat videos.

But the fact remains: I can wiggle my ears.

It makes me wonder what else I’ve dismissed before even giving it a shot. There have been moments—little ones—when a mentor suggested I try something that felt just a little ridiculous. Visualization exercises. Daily affirmations. None of it seemed practical at first. But I tried. And oddly, they seemed to work, or at least correlated with desired outcomes.

Of course, this isn’t magic (is it?). I’m sure it is just letting myself believe in the possibility of change long enough for change to sneak in. But it almost feels like I found a secret superpower.

I wonder what would’ve happened if someone had told eight-year-old me that I could learn how to grant myself wishes—not by hoping, but by trying. Not by waiting, but by translating an idea into action.

I still think wiggling my ears is kind of cool.

But self-belief? That’s the real party trick.