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Choices.
I still have choices.
Sometimes the turmoil surrounding me tries to make me feel helpless. Like my situation is hopeless and out of my control. It’s not true. If there’s one thing my situation is teaching me, it’s that I can lose control of almost every aspect of my life except my attitude and my freedom to choose.
I choose to get up each morning. I choose how to face each day. I choose to be positive or negative. I choose to keep going or to give up.
Which reminds me of an old dry well and a wise old mule.
You see there was a farmer that had an abandoned well on his property. Though the well had been dry for years, all he’d ever done to close it up was throw some boards over it. Well, as luck would have it, one day his old mule wandered over those rickety boards and Crash! Down she went. Incredibly, the fall didn’t kill her, but it definitely scared the bajeezes out of her and her brays attracted the attention of the whole farm. Everyone came running. Initially pleased that she had survived the fall, their joy slowly turned to despair as their attempts to rescue her failed one after another and they slowly ran out of ideas. Finally, the farmer made the difficult decision that they would just have to bury her right there in the well. He gathered his neighbors and they went to work. Of course, as the first shovelfuls of dirt landed on her back, that poor old mule’s cries intensified, but as the farmer and his neighbors continued; her cries slowly faded and were finally silenced. Amidst sadness and tears, they continued their work and it was some time later that the farmer thought he heard something. It was the sound of shuffling, and it was coming from inside the well. He stopped his work and, while the others continued, leaned over to look into the well. To his astonishment, there was the old mule! She was much higher now and his curiosity about why she wasn’t buried compelled him to watch as his neighbors continued. As each shovelful of dirt landed on the old mule’s back, she would shake it off, take a step up and be closer to the surface. Eventually the level of the dirt that was supposed to bury her was high enough that she simply stepped out of the well and walked off.
Like the farmer’s old mule wandered over that hidden well, I’ve made mistakes and find myself in a deep hole from which no one can save me. In my situation, I’m faced with choices. I can give in to my depression and discouragement and simply stand idle while the problems and challenges heap up and bury me. I can panic amidst the challenges thrown down on me and waste huge amounts of energy throwing myself against the walls or trying to claw my way out until I’m exhausted, bloodied and beaten.
Or, I can get a little mule sense and do everything in my power to stay calm, fight back my fear and doubt and confront the challenges before me with a clear head. Instead of being overwhelmed by the enormity of my problems as a whole, I take each shovelful as it comes, shake it off, learn how to rise above it, and then use my new knowledge to take a step up. With each problem I overcome, I find myself rising higher and drawing closer to the top of my own dry well. Shaking off future challenges is less difficult as my confidence grows from my successes, and eventually I’ll reach the surface and regain my freedom. There may be someone who can just lift me out, but if that’s the way I make my escape, this hole will remain and I will have gained little knowledge of how to avoid it in the future or how to get myself out when I fall in again. I want this hole filled in, which means I have to overcome these challenges on my own so this particular dry well will no longer be a risk to me. I want to remember the lessons I’m learning. The knowledge and experience I’m gaining by shaking off and overcoming the problems and struggles heaped on me in this hole will make it far less likely for me to fall into the same hole again.
It’s hard to see my current challenges as a good thing. They’re tough. They’re heartbreaking. Sometimes I’m sure I can’t take one more setback without breaking down and giving up. I have to work hard to find new reserves of strength and confidence. I’m constantly fighting back discouragement and depression, but I’m comforted with the knowledge that I’m in good company.
Great leaders are not great because they’re always right. They’re not great because they never experience fear, depression, doubt or anger. Throughout history, truly great leaders distinguished themselves by their humility; selfless service to country, cause or people and by their perseverance in studying out solutions to the problems before them. But most of all, great leaders are those with enough courage to make decisions in the face of withering responsibility and pressure, and live with the consequences of those decisions.
Abraham Lincoln was constantly tormented by bouts of depression. Referred to by his friends and associates as his “melancholy”, it was his grim feelings that kept his emotions close to the surface. He could weep openly; he had a penchant for maudlin poetry and odd jokes which he claimed his survival depended on.
Winston Churchill referred to the bouts of depression he experienced throughout his life as his “black dogs”. They were particularly frequent and debilitating during his service as Prime Minister. For years he saw his warnings of Germany’s ambitions ignored, only to be called upon to lead the country when they began to be carried out and after Germany had developed enough military strength to make any attempt to halt those ambitions a long and difficult struggle.
The Second World War would eventually require the services of another great leader; one whose life would be similarly marked not by ambition, entitlement, or privilege, but by dedicated service to his country. Dwight D. Eisenhower experienced his own bouts of depression exacerbated by the pressures and responsibilities thrust upon him as the supreme commander of the allied forces in Europe and the one man upon whom the decision would rest to give the go ahead for the invasion of German occupied Normandy. General Eisenhower would find some of his courage in as many as 20 cups of coffee and 4 packs of cigarettes each day. He would also spend many hours alone with his thoughts. His was a high and lonely command.
Formidable challenges before me mean difficult choices must be made. Many years ago, a very wise counselor gave me a piece of advice that I have since turned into a mantra. I sought her out during another difficult time in my life and in the midst of my descriptions of all the problems that stymied me at that time, she advised me to find a little time to be gentle with myself. She said I needed to find the space to get my thoughts together. She promised all of my problems and responsibilities would wait and that I would be better able to address them with a clear head and in a calm state of mind. She was right then and it continues to work for me. Sometimes it’s a nap; sometimes a good book; sometimes it’s an hour and sometimes a week, but it just means pulling away from the challenge that is overwhelming long enough to let the depression, discouragement and panic pass and allow my mind to work it out.
I can’t know, with certainty, the outcome of every decision I make, nor can I foresee how my decisions will affect my future. Tomorrows choices will be determined by the consequences of the choices I make today.
I’m certainly not the first person to acknowledge the painful truth that life would be empty without the growth experienced by overcoming challenges and taking steps up.
They can take away everything I’ve worked for, but they can’t take away my power to choose.
I still have choices.
I choose to dream, to hope, and to have faith.
Choices.
I still have choices.
Sometimes the turmoil surrounding me tries to make me feel helpless. Like my situation is hopeless and out of my control. It’s not true. If there’s one thing my situation is teaching me, it’s that I can lose control of almost every aspect of my life except my attitude and my freedom to choose.
I choose to get up each morning. I choose how to face each day. I choose to be positive or negative. I choose to keep going or to give up.
Which reminds me of an old dry well and a wise old mule.
You see there was a farmer that had an abandoned well on his property. Though the well had been dry for years, all he’d ever done to close it up was throw some boards over it. Well, as luck would have it, one day his old mule wandered over those rickety boards and Crash! Down she went. Incredibly, the fall didn’t kill her, but it definitely scared the bajeezes out of her and her brays attracted the attention of the whole farm. Everyone came running. Initially pleased that she had survived the fall, their joy slowly turned to despair as their attempts to rescue her failed one after another and they slowly ran out of ideas. Finally, the farmer made the difficult decision that they would just have to bury her right there in the well. He gathered his neighbors and they went to work. Of course, as the first shovelfuls of dirt landed on her back, that poor old mule’s cries intensified, but as the farmer and his neighbors continued; her cries slowly faded and were finally silenced. Amidst sadness and tears, they continued their work and it was some time later that the farmer thought he heard something. It was the sound of shuffling, and it was coming from inside the well. He stopped his work and, while the others continued, leaned over to look into the well. To his astonishment, there was the old mule! She was much higher now and his curiosity about why she wasn’t buried compelled him to watch as his neighbors continued. As each shovelful of dirt landed on the old mule’s back, she would shake it off, take a step up and be closer to the surface. Eventually the level of the dirt that was supposed to bury her was high enough that she simply stepped out of the well and walked off.
Like the farmer’s old mule wandered over that hidden well, I’ve made mistakes and find myself in a deep hole from which no one can save me. In my situation, I’m faced with choices. I can give in to my depression and discouragement and simply stand idle while the problems and challenges heap up and bury me. I can panic amidst the challenges thrown down on me and waste huge amounts of energy throwing myself against the walls or trying to claw my way out until I’m exhausted, bloodied and beaten.
Or, I can get a little mule sense and do everything in my power to stay calm, fight back my fear and doubt and confront the challenges before me with a clear head. Instead of being overwhelmed by the enormity of my problems as a whole, I take each shovelful as it comes, shake it off, learn how to rise above it, and then use my new knowledge to take a step up. With each problem I overcome, I find myself rising higher and drawing closer to the top of my own dry well. Shaking off future challenges is less difficult as my confidence grows from my successes, and eventually I’ll reach the surface and regain my freedom. There may be someone who can just lift me out, but if that’s the way I make my escape, this hole will remain and I will have gained little knowledge of how to avoid it in the future or how to get myself out when I fall in again. I want this hole filled in, which means I have to overcome these challenges on my own so this particular dry well will no longer be a risk to me. I want to remember the lessons I’m learning. The knowledge and experience I’m gaining by shaking off and overcoming the problems and struggles heaped on me in this hole will make it far less likely for me to fall into the same hole again.
It’s hard to see my current challenges as a good thing. They’re tough. They’re heartbreaking. Sometimes I’m sure I can’t take one more setback without breaking down and giving up. I have to work hard to find new reserves of strength and confidence. I’m constantly fighting back discouragement and depression, but I’m comforted with the knowledge that I’m in good company.
Great leaders are not great because they’re always right. They’re not great because they never experience fear, depression, doubt or anger. Throughout history, truly great leaders distinguished themselves by their humility; selfless service to country, cause or people and by their perseverance in studying out solutions to the problems before them. But most of all, great leaders are those with enough courage to make decisions in the face of withering responsibility and pressure, and live with the consequences of those decisions.
Abraham Lincoln was constantly tormented by bouts of depression. Referred to by his friends and associates as his “melancholy”, it was his grim feelings that kept his emotions close to the surface. He could weep openly; he had a penchant for maudlin poetry and odd jokes which he claimed his survival depended on.
Winston Churchill referred to the bouts of depression he experienced throughout his life as his “black dogs”. They were particularly frequent and debilitating during his service as Prime Minister. For years he saw his warnings of Germany’s ambitions ignored, only to be called upon to lead the country when they began to be carried out and after Germany had developed enough military strength to make any attempt to halt those ambitions a long and difficult struggle.
The Second World War would eventually require the services of another great leader; one whose life would be similarly marked not by ambition, entitlement, or privilege, but by dedicated service to his country. Dwight D. Eisenhower experienced his own bouts of depression exacerbated by the pressures and responsibilities thrust upon him as the supreme commander of the allied forces in Europe and the one man upon whom the decision would rest to give the go ahead for the invasion of German occupied Normandy. General Eisenhower would find some of his courage in as many as 20 cups of coffee and 4 packs of cigarettes each day. He would also spend many hours alone with his thoughts. His was a high and lonely command.
Formidable challenges before me mean difficult choices must be made. Many years ago, a very wise counselor gave me a piece of advice that I have since turned into a mantra. I sought her out during another difficult time in my life and in the midst of my descriptions of all the problems that stymied me at that time, she advised me to find a little time to be gentle with myself. She said I needed to find the space to get my thoughts together. She promised all of my problems and responsibilities would wait and that I would be better able to address them with a clear head and in a calm state of mind. She was right then and it continues to work for me. Sometimes it’s a nap; sometimes a good book; sometimes it’s an hour and sometimes a week, but it just means pulling away from the challenge that is overwhelming long enough to let the depression, discouragement and panic pass and allow my mind to work it out.
I can’t know, with certainty, the outcome of every decision I make, nor can I foresee how my decisions will affect my future. Tomorrows choices will be determined by the consequences of the choices I make today.
I’m certainly not the first person to acknowledge the painful truth that life would be empty without the growth experienced by overcoming challenges and taking steps up.
They can take away everything I’ve worked for, but they can’t take away my power to choose.
I still have choices.
I choose to dream, to hope, and to have faith.
by Jim Loehr and Tony Schwartz and they struck me with a new attitude about stress. Instead of reiterating the common convention of suggesting ways to remove stress from our lives, the authors make the point that true growth comes through balancing stress and recovery. This point hit me pretty strongly.
by Michael Crichton. It’s an excellent story by a master storyteller. And while I’ve read many of his books — in fact I’ve read about a dozen recently — this one struck me particularly powerfully. Perhaps it’s our current situation, and the efforts I’m making to stay positive in the midst of these challenges, that made this particular work hit me so strongly. To say the least our situation is more difficult than it has ever been physically and emotionally. And if there has ever been a time in my life for creativity in exploring ways to lift us out of difficulty, this is it. In fact, I’ve come to that point where it’s often difficult to get up in the morning; and when I finally drag myself out of bed, the day is spent feeling as though I’m slogging through knee deep mud. In times like these, it’s imperative to reach deep inside and find dreams that have lain dormant, mine those hopes and wishes, and refine them into goals that can be used to fire the imagination and generate the energy to keep moving.
, but if there was ever an individual that embraced the importance of the human imagination, it was Mr. Rogers. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the most important service that can be rendered in this world is the nurture of the childhood imagination. Do you remember yours? Can you dig deep into your mind and remember that time when there were no constraints on what you could imagine yourself doing; before you established your list of all the things you can’t do and all the reasons why you can’t do them? As a child, I can remember sitting transfixed as Trolley rolled through his tunnel into the world of make believe where anything could happen, and every episode was written to validate and reinforce my belief that I could make the world anything I wanted it to be. But of course time passed and I grew too cool for Mr. Rogers and all his neighborhood friends.
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and many more, coupled with this new enlightenment from Mr. Crichton, has inspired me to strive for a return to the imagination I had before my heart and mind became shuttered by fear and doubt. Everything that happens, happens first in the mind of an individual. Every successful athletic competitor succeeded first in his or her imagination. Every invention created to improve the quality of our lives existed first in the imagination of the inventor. And any progress I make in this life must live first in my imagination. I’m ready. Are you?
Mitch Albom stated this fact all too pointedly with his words, “All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.” My parents did the best they could with the programming written in their lives, and I’ve done the best I can to program my girls with the code that was written into my life. Some of the code my parents wrote into my life has served me well; Dad did a great job writing mechanical skills into me. I have complete confidence in my abilities mechanically. With that confidence, I’ve spent my life confronting mechanical or technical challenges knowing I can figure them out; my success in those challenges further reinforces my programming that I am skilled mechanically. And the cycle continues.
by Darcy Andries and 
by John A. Sarkett. I’ve read these cover-to-cover many times over, always with the mantra repeating in my mind that if they could do it, so can I. I’ve immersed myself in the strength and determination displayed by the real people whose stories are compiled in these volumes. Their stories span centuries, cultures and physical, emotional and intellectual circumstances. Few of these great success stories involve a generous benefactor or the luck of being in the right place at the right time. Nearly all describe people just like you and me determined to achieve a dream regardless of the sacrifices, challenges and obstacles they had to pass through.