Paying Attention

A funny story circulated recently about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of the fictional detective Sherlock Holmes. Doyle evidently told of a time when he hailed a taxi in Paris. Before he could utter a word, the driver turned to him and asked, “Where can I take you, Mr. Doyle?”

Doyle was flabbergasted. He asked the driver if he had ever seen him before.

“No, sir,” the driver responded, “I have never seen you before.” Then he explained: “This morning’s paper had a story about you being on vacation in Marseilles. This is the taxi stand where people who return from Marseilles always arrive. Your skin color tells me you have been on vacation. The ink spot on your right index finger suggests to me that you are a writer. Your clothing is very English, and not French. Adding up all those pieces of information, I deduced that you are Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.”

“This is truly amazing!” the writer exclaimed. “You are a real-life counterpart to my fictional creation, Sherlock Holmes!”

“There is one other thing,” the driver said.

“What is that?”

“Your name is on the front of your suitcase.”

Perhaps the driver was no master detective, but he was observant. He paid attention, and paying attention is an important part of living fully -- if we pay attention to the right things.

Speaker Alan Loy McGinnis tells of a New York City sculptor named Louise. She lived in one of the most dilapidated neighborhoods of the city. But, by paying attention to her surroundings, she found endless beauty and inspiration. She marveled at the elegance in the varying patterns of the sun and the moon reflected on tenement windows. In an object as ordinary as a chair she could see something extraordinary. “The chair isn’t so hot,” she once pointed out, “but look at its shadow.” By paying attention, she was able to see what others might miss.

Paying attention to the moments and to ordinary things of life, as much as possible, is a way to happiness. Like Brené Brown says, “I don't have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness - it's right in front of me if I'm paying attention and practicing gratitude.” What do you think you might actually see and appreciate if you were to look carefully?

·       I think I might see things or people in a new way. Too often I look straight through them and take them for granted.

·       I think that, if I were to pay closer attention, I may better notice the abundance in my life instead of wishing for what I don’t have.

·       If I look carefully, I think I just might see how beautiful and exquisite my life really is instead of thinking someone else has it better.

I don’t have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness. I may only have to pay attention to the right things and happiness will find me.

-– Steve Goodier (Life Support System)

The Sculptor’s Attitude

I woke up early today, excited over all I get to do before the clock strikes midnight. I have responsibilities to fulfill today. I am important. My job is to choose what kind of day I am going to have.

Today I can complain because the weather is rainy or I can be thankful that the grass is getting watered for free.

Today I can feel sad that I don't have more money or I can be glad that my finances encourage me to plan my purchases wisely and guide me away from waste.

Today I can grumble about my health or I can rejoice that I am alive.

Today I can lament over all that my parents didn't give me when I was growing up or I can feel grateful that they allowed me to be born.

Today I can cry because roses have thorns or I can celebrate that thorns have roses.

Today I can mourn my lack of friends or I can excitedly embark upon a quest to discover new relationships.

Today I can whine because I have to go to work or I can shout for joy because I have a job to do.

Today I can complain because I have to go to school or eagerly open my mind and fill it with rich new tidbits of knowledge.

Today I can murmur dejectedly because I have to do housework or I can feel honored because the Lord has provided shelter for my mind, body and soul.

Today stretches ahead of me, waiting to be shaped. And here I am, the sculptor who gets to do the shaping.

What today will be like is up to me. I get to choose what kind of day I will have!

What will you choose to do with Today?

Have a Great Day... unless you have other plans.

-- Author Unknown

90-10 Principle

Consider a situation: You're eating breakfast with your family. Your daughter knocks over a cup of coffee onto your business shirt. You curse. You harshly scold your daughter for knocking the cup over. She breaks down in tears.

After scolding her, you turn to your wife and criticize her for placing the cup too close to the edge of the table. A short verbal battle follows. You storm upstairs and change your shirt. Back downstairs you find your daughter has been too busy crying to finish breakfast and get ready for school. She misses the bus. Your wife must leave immediately for work. You rush to the car and drive your daughter to school. Because you are late, you drive 80 km an hour in a 60 kmph speed limit. After a 15 minute delay and paying a $60 traffic fine, you arrived at school. Your daughter runs to the building without saying good-bye.

After arriving at the office 30 minutes late, you find you forgot your briefcase. Your day has started terrible. As it continues, it seems to get worse and worse. You look forward to going home. When you arrive home you find a small wedge in your relationship with your wife and daughter. Why? Because of how you reacted in the morning.

Why did you have a bad day?

A) Did the coffee cause it?

B) Did your daughter cause it?

C) Did the traffic policeman cause it?

D) Did you cause it?

The answer is D.

You had no control over what happened with the coffee. How you reacted in those 5 seconds is what caused your bad day. Here is what could have and should have happened. Coffee splashes over you. Your daughter is about to cry. You gently say "It's OK honey, you just need to be more careful next time". Grabbing a towel you rush upstairs. After grabbing a new shirt and your briefcase. You come back down in time look through the window and see your child getting on the bus. She turns and waves. You and your wife kiss before you both go to work. You arrive 5 minutes early and cheerfully greet the staff. Your boss comments on how good a day you are having. Notice the difference. Two different scenarios. Both started the same. Both ended different. Why? Because of how you REACTED. You really do not have any control over 10% of what happens. The other 90% is determined by your reaction.

Here are some ways to apply the 90/10 secret:

If someone says something negative about you, do not be a sponge. Let the attack roll off like water on glass. You don't have to let the negative comment affect you! Respond properly and it will not ruin your day. A wrong reaction could result in losing a friend, being fired, getting stressed out, etc.

-- Author Unknown

Ducks Quack, Eagles Soar

I was waiting in line for a ride at the airport. When a cab pulled up, the first thing I noticed was that the taxi was polished to a bright shine. Smartly dressed in a white shirt, black tie, and freshly pressed black slacks, the cab driver jumped out and rounded the car to open the back passenger door for me.

He handed me a laminated card and said: 'I'm Wasu, your driver. While I'm loading your bags in the trunk I'd like you to read my mission statement.'

Taken aback, I read the card. It said: Wasu's Mission Statement: To get my customers to their destination in the quickest, safest and cheapest way possible in a friendly environment.

This blew me away. Especially when I noticed that the inside of the cab matched the outside. Spotlessly clean!

As he slid behind the wheel, Wasu said, 'Would you like a cup of coffee? I have a thermos of regular and one of decaf.'

I said jokingly, 'No, I'd prefer a soft drink.'

Wasu smiled and said, 'No problem. I have a cooler up front with regular and Diet Coke, lassi, water and orange juice.'

Almost stuttering, I said, 'I'll take a Lassi.'

Handing me my drink, Wasu said, 'If you'd like something to read, I have The Hindu, Times  of India, ET and India Today.'

As they were pulling away, Wasu handed me another laminated card, 'These are the stations I get and the music they play, if you'd like to listen to the radio.'

And as if that weren't enough, Wasu told me that he had the air conditioning on and asked if the temperature was comfortable for him.

Then he advised me of the best route to my destination for that time of day. He also let me know that he'd be happy to chat and tell me about some of the sights or, if I preferred, to leave me with my own thoughts.

'Tell me, Wasu,' I was amazed and asked him, 'have you always served customers like this?'

Wasu smiled into the rear view mirror. No, not always. In fact, it's only been in the last two years. My first five years driving, I spent most of my time complaining like all the rest of the cabbies do_. *Then I heard about power of choice one day.'

'Power of choice is that you can be a duck or an eagle.'

'If you get up in the morning expecting to have a bad day, you'll rarely disappoint yourself. Stop complaining!'

'Don't be a duck. Be an eagle. Ducks quack and complain. Eagles soar above the crowd.'

'That hit me right,' said Wasu.

'It is about me. I was always quacking and complaining, so I decided to change my attitude and become an eagle. I looked around at the other cabs and their drivers. The cabs were dirty, the drivers were unfriendly, and the customers were unhappy. So I decided to make some changes. I put in a few at a time. When my customers responded well, I did more.'

'I take it that has paid off for you,' I said.

'It sure has,' Wasu replied. 'My first year as an eagle, I doubled my income from the previous year. This year I'll probably quadruple it. My customers call me for appointments on my cell phone or leave a message on it.'

Wasu made a different choice. He decided to stop quacking like ducks and start soaring like eagles. Have an eagle week, next week, and the next..

-- Author Unknown

What am I?

I am seldom considered, though I do more to influence everything about you than virtually any one thing in your life.  I often control the time you get up in the morning, the time you go to sleep, what you eat and drink and the very thought that runs through your head.  I can make you either happy or sad, loving or hateful, cheerful or remorseful, congenial or spiteful and in doing so, control the very capacity that you have for success.

No, you don’t often think of me instead you BLAME the problem I create on the shortcoming of others, or the state of the economy, or your family or a million other reasons.  Often at times unable to find anyone else to BLAME you look for shortcomings within yourself on which to lay the BLAME.

When my impact on your life fully is considered in your every thought and action, when you are mindful of my awesome power, when you nurture and groom me for positive use in your life, I can become more contagious than the most prolific disease ever witnessed by man.  My influence will spread to every person you come in contact with.

Groomed and nurtured in a positive manner there will be no person or obstacle that can stand in the way of my success or fail to be impacted for the better.

'I Am Your ATTITUDE’

-- Author Unknown

Every Breath is a Gift

This was written by an 83 year-old woman to her friend. The last line says it all.

Dear Bertha:

I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting in the yard and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time working. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experiences to savor, not to endure. I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.

 

I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good China and crystal for every special event such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, or the first Amaryllis blossom. I wear my good blazer to the market. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries.

 

I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties, but wearing it for clerks in the hardware store and tellers at the bank. Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now.

 

I'm not sure what others would've done had they known they wouldn't be here for the tomorrow that we all take for granted. I think they would have called family members and a few close friends. They might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think they would have gone out for a Chinese dinner or for whatever their favorite food was. I'm guessing; I'll never know.

 

It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew my hours were limited. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and parents often enough how much I truly love them. I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is a gift from God.

 

If you received this, it is because someone cares for you. If you're too busy to take the few minutes that it takes right now to forward this, would it be the first time you didn't do the little thing that would make a difference in your relationships? I can tell you it certainly won't be the last.

 

Take a few minutes to send this to a few people you care about, just to let them know that you're thinking of them. People say "True friends must always hold hands, but true friends don't need to hold hands because they know the other hand will always be there." I don't believe in Miracles. I rely on them.

 

Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance.

 

 

-- Author Unknown

 

 

Everyone Has a Story

A 24 year old boy seeing out from the train’s window shouted … “Dad, look the trees are going behind!”

Dad smiled and a young couple sitting nearby, looked at the 24 year old’s childish behavior with pity, suddenly he again exclaimed … “Dad, look the clouds are running with us!”

The couple couldn’t resist and said to the old man … “Why don’t you take your son to a good doctor?”
 
The old man smiled and said … “I did and we are just coming from the hospital, my son was blind from birth, he just got his eyes today.

Every single person on the planet has a story. Don’t judge people before you truly know them. The truth might just surprise you.

-- Author Unknown

Poor Me, Lucky Them

Life as a very junior monk in Thailand seemed so unfair. The senior monks received the best food, sat on the softest cushions and never had to push wheelbarrows. Whereas my one meal of the day was disgusting; I had to sit for long hours in ceremonies on the hard concrete floor (which was lumpy as well, because the villagers were hopeless at laying concrete); and sometimes I had to labor very hard. Poor me, lucky them.

I spent long, unpleasant hours justifying my complaints to myself. The senior monks were probably so enlightened that delicious food would be wasted on them, therefore I should get the best food. The senior monks had been sitting cross-legged on hard floors for years and were used to it, therefore I should get the big soft cushions. Moreover, the senior monks were all fat anyway, from eating the best food, so had "natural upholstery" to their butts. The senior monks just told us junior monks to do the work, never laboring themselves, so how could they appreciate how hot and tiring pushing wheelbarrows was? The projects were all their ideas anyway, so they should do the work! Poor me, lucky them.

When I became a senior monk, then I ate the best food, sat on a soft cushion and did little physical work. However, I caught myself envying the junior monks. They didn't have to give all the public talks, didn't listen to people's problems all day, and didn't spend hours on administration. They had no responsibilities and so much time for themselves. I heard myself saying, "Poor me, lucky them!"

I soon figured out what was going on. Junior monks have "junior-monk suffering."Senior monks have "senior-monk suffering." When I became a senior monk, I was just exchanging one form of suffering for another form of suffering.

It is precisely the same for single people who envy those who are married, and the married people who envy those who are single. As we all should know by now, when we get married, we are only exchanging "single-person's suffering" for "married-person's suffering."Then when we get divorced, we are only exchanging "married-person's suffering" for "single-person's suffering." Poor me, lucky them.

When we are poor, we envy those who are rich. However, may who are rich envy the sincere friendships and freedom from responsibilities of those who are poor. Becoming rich is only exchanging "poor-person's suffering" for "rich-person's suffering." Retiring and taking a cut in your income is only exchanging "rich-person's suffering" for "poor-person's suffering." And so it goes on. Poor me, lucky them.

To think that you will be happy by becoming something else is delusion. Becoming something else just exchanges one form of suffering for another form of suffering. But when you are content with who you are now, junior or senior, married or single, rich or poor, then you are free of suffering. Lucky me, poor them!"

-- Ajahn Brahm


The story above is just to remind ourselves to be content with what we have, who we are, what we do, and so on. Being content is the key to happiness. So, which one are you? Poor me, lucky them? Or Lucky me, poor them? You decide!

Dragonfly

Once, in a little pond, in the muddy water under the lily pads, there lived a little water beetle in a community of water beetles. They lived a simple and comfortable life in the pond with few disturbances and interruptions.

Once in a while, sadness would come to the community when one of their fellow beetles would climb the stem of a lily pad and would never be seen again. They knew when this happened; their friend was dead, gone forever.

Then, one day, one little water beetle felt an irresistible urge to climb up that stem. However, he was determined that he would not leave forever. He would come back and tell his friends what he had found at the top.

When he reached the top and climbed out of the water onto the surface of the lily pad, he was so tired, and the sun felt so warm, that he decided he must take a nap. As he slept, his body changed and when he woke up, he had turned into a beautiful blue-tailed dragonfly with broad wings and a slender body designed for flying.

So, fly he did! And, as he soared he saw the beauty of a whole new world and a far superior way of life to what he had never known existed.

Then he remembered his beetle friends and how they were thinking by now he was dead. He wanted to go back to tell them, and explain to them that he was now more alive than he had ever been before. His life had been fulfilled rather than ended.

But, his new body would not go down into the water. He could not get back to tell his friends the good news. Then he understood that their time would come, when they, too, would know what he now knew.

So, he raised his wings and flew off into his joyous new life!

-- Author Unknown

Find Some Humor

I once read a story, purported to be true, of a motorist who was caught in an automated speed trap. His speed was measured by a radar machine and his car was automatically photographed. In a few days he received a ticket for $40 in the mail along with a picture of his automobile. As payment, he sent the police department a snapshot of $40. Several days later, he received a letter from the police. It contained another picture -- of handcuffs. He promptly paid the fine.

Who hasn't received a traffic violation? There are many ways to respond to those inevitable irritations of life, and one of the best is to find some humor. (Though he's probably fortunate the police had a sense of humor, too.)

This is one of Bill Cosby’s strategies for successful living. The octogenarian comedian has known hard times, yet he once summarized his attitude this way: "You can turn painful situations around through laughter. If you can find humor in anything ... you can survive it."  Like aging. He says that all things shift when we age. Even the mind. It slips from the head to the behind. There’s proof of this, he tells us. When you walk into a room to get something or to do something, you forget what you went after. You see, your mind has left. “But then you sit down and – bingo! – you remember what it was you wanted. Therefore, your mind must have slipped down to your behind.”

Growing older is a wonderful thing, especially if you're young. But what if most of your years are behind you? There are some things, like growing older, that can't be changed. And one of the best ways to respond to things that can't be changed is to find some humor.

Then there's Katie. Katie was a young woman with a great, big problem. She was a teenager dying of leukemia. Katie's mother wrote to me and told me how her daughter approached her disease. She told about a time, shortly after a bone marrow transplant, when Katie's head was “slickly bald,” as she put it. One day Katie heard the doctor coming on rounds and ducked into the bathroom. Her mother heard her giggling and asked, "Katie, what is so funny?" 

She put her finger to her lips, pulled a Nike ski cap onto her head and crawled into bed. 
When the doctor came in, she said, "Well, Miss Katie! How are you feeling today?" 

Katie frowned and said, "I am OK, I guess ... but I just have this splitting headache." She pulled off her ski cap and there on her bald head was a huge red crack, which she had drawn with a marker. As the doctor recovered from her initial shock, the room exploded in laughter. 

Katie did not survive the cancer, but she conquered depression and despair and found an authentic way to live as fully as possible her last months of life. 

There are many ways to respond when life takes a serious turn, but even then, perhaps especially then, one of the best is to find some humor. “It DOES help!” Katie's mother asserted at the end of her letter.

Mark Twain says that the human race “has unquestionably one really effective weapon – laughter.” Laughing at the twists and turns of life may not be your first response, but it can be one of the best. 


-- Steve Goodier  (Life Support System)

Who Ordered This Truckload of Dung?

UNPLEASANT THINGS, like becoming last in our class, happen in life. They happen to everyone. The only difference between a happy person and one who gets depressed is how they respond to disasters.

Imagine you have just had a wonderful afternoon at the beach with a friend. When you return home, you find a huge truckload of dung has been dumped right in front of your door. There are three things to know about this truckload of dung :
1. You did not order it. It's not your fault.
2. You're stuck with it. No one saw who dumped it, so you cannot call anyone to take it away.
3. It is filthy and offensive, and its stench fills your whole house. It is almost impossible to endure. 

In this metaphor, the truckload of dung in front of the house stands for the traumatic experiences that are dumped on us in life. 

As with the truckload of dung, there are three things to know about tragedy in our life :
1. We did not order it. We say 'Why me?'
2. We're stuck with it. No one, not even our best friends, can take it away (though they may try).
3. It is so awful, such a destroyer of our happiness, and its pain fills our whole life. It is almost impossible to endure.

There are two ways of responding to being stuck with a truckload of dung. The first way is to carry the dung around with us. We put some in our pockets, some in our bags, and some up our shirts. We even put some down our pants. We find when we carry dung around, we lose a lot of friends! Even best friends don't seem to be around so often.

"Carrying around the dung" is a metaphor for sinking into depression, negativity, or anger. It is a natural and understandable response to adversity. But we lose a lot of friends, because it is also natural and understandable that our friends don't like being around us when we're so depressed. Moreover, the pile of dung gets no less, but the smell gets worse as it ripens.

Fortunately, there's a second way. When we are dumped with a truckload of dung, we heave a sigh, and then get down to work. Out come the wheelbarrow, the fork, and the spade. We fork the dung into the barrow, wheel it around the back of the house, and dig it into the garden. This is tiring and difficult work, but we know there's no other option.

Sometimes, all we can manage is half a barrow a day. We're doing something about the problem, rather than complaining our way into depression. Day after day we dig in the dung. Day after day, the pile gets smaller. Sometimes it takes several years, but the morning does come when we see that the dung in front of our house is all gone. 

Furthermore, a miracle has happened in another part of our house. The flowers in our garden are bursting out in a richness of color all over the place. Their fragrance wafts down the street so that the neighbors, and even passers-by, smile in delight. Then the fruit tree in the corner is nearly falling over, it's so heavy with fruit. And the fruit is so sweet; you can't buy anything like it. There's so much of it that we are able to share it with our neighbors. Even passers-by get a delicious taste of the miracle fruit.

"Digging in the dung" is a metaphor for welcoming the tragedies as fertilizer for life. It is work that we have to do alone: no one can help us here. But by digging it into the garden of our heart, day by day, the pile of pain gets less.

It may take us several years, but the morning does come when we see no more pain in our life and, in our heart, a miracle has happened. Flowers of kindness are bursting out all over the place, and the fragrance of love wafts way down our street, to our neighbors, to our relations, and even to passers-by. Then our wisdom tree in the corner is bending down to us, loaded with sweet insights into the nature of life. We share those delicious fruits freely, even with the passers-by, without ever planning to.

When we have known tragic pain, learnt its lesson, and grown our garden, then we can put our arms around another in deep tragedy and say, softly, 'I know.' They realize we do understand. Compassion begins. We show them the wheelbarrow, the fork, and the spade, and boundless encouragement. If we haven't grown our own garden yet, this can't be done.

I have known many monks who are skilled in meditation, who are peaceful, composed and serene in adversity. But only a few have become great teachers. I often wondered why.

It seems to me now that those monks who had a relatively easy time of it, who had little dung to dig in, were the ones who didn't become teachers. It was the monks who had the enormous difficulties, dug them in quietly, and came through with a rich garden that became great teachers. 

They all had wisdom, serenity and compassion; but those with more dung had more to share with the world. My teacher, Ajahn Chah, who for me was the pinnacle of all teachers, must have had a whole trucking company line up with their dung at his door, in his early life.

Perhaps the moral of this story is that if you want to be of service to the world, if you wish to follow the path of compassion, then the next time a tragedy occurs in your life, you may say, "Whoopee! More fertilizer for my garden!"


-- Ajahn Brahm

Two Monks and a Woman

A senior monk and a junior monk were traveling together. At one point, they came to a river with a strong current. As the monks were preparing to cross the river, they saw a very young and beautiful woman also attempting to cross. The young woman asked if they could help her cross to the other side.

The two monks glanced at one another because they had taken vows not to touch a woman.

Then, without a word, the older monk picked up the woman, carried her across the river, placed her gently on the other side, and carried on his 
journey.

The younger monk couldn't believe what had just happened. After rejoining his companion, he was speechless, and an hour passed without a word between them.

Two more hours passed, then three, finally the younger monk could contain himself any longer, and blurted out “As monks, we are not permitted a woman, how could you then carry that woman on your shoulders?”

The older monk looked at him and replied, “Brother, I set her down on the other side of the river, why are you still carrying her?”

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This simple Zen story has a beautiful message about living in the present moment. How often do we carry around past hurts, holding onto resentments when the only person we are really hurting is ourselves.

We all go through times in life when other people say things or behave in a way that is hurtful towards us. We can chose to ruminate over past actions or events, but it will ultimately weigh us down and sap our energy.

Instead we can choose to let go of what doesn't serve us anymore and concentrate on the present moment. Until we can find a level of peace and happiness in the present circumstances of our lives, we will never be content, because ‘now’ is all we will ever have.


-- Author Unknown

A Miracle Morning

I stumbled out the door of a mountain cabin where I was spending the weekend working with youth and their families at a rustic resort center. I had a 6:30 AM appointment to keep and squinted from the early autumn sun peeking over pine-blanketed mountaintops.

I was started by a voice behind me. “Today is a miracle!” I turned to find one of the teenagers following behind.

“How?” I asked her. It looked like it might be pleasantly warm later in the day. Otherwise, fairly ordinary. The word “miracle” seemed like an overstatement. Anyway, I wasn't sure if I could handle much excitement this early in the morning.

“Think about it,” she smiled. “The sun rose, didn't it?”

“Yeah.” I found it easy to hide any enthusiasm. It seemed to rise on every other morning without my getting involved.

“That’s a miracle! It is miraculous that the earth turns as it does. At night, the sun goes down and in the morning it rises. It just happens!”

I pretty much already had this figured out. I rubbed sleep from my eyes. I was also busy thinking about how to get a cup of coffee.

“And look at the mountains! Covered with trees and grass, they look so beautiful. And there,” she pointed, “a valley. It’s incredible.”

Was she always this perky? And shouldn't there be a rule against perkiness this early in the morning? Especially before coffee?

“Did you notice the wildflowers?” she continued. “It all smells so fresh and clean and so good.” She took a deep breath and I thought I might have caught a sparkle in her eyes. Though it may have also been a trick of the light. “All of nature receives water and sunlight and everything it needs. Things grow and blossom – it really is lovely.”

Now I started to worry. I thought I was actually coming around. Well, a little bit, anyway. Is perkiness contagious? I felt something stirring inside. Up until then I thought this was just an ordinary morning in the mountains. I didn't know what spell she was secretly weaving, but she had a point. It really was beautiful, even if there was nothing magic about it.

Then, with a smile that gave her pronouncement a note of finality, she said, “And best of all, it will happen again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next!” Then she sighed. “See? It's a miracle morning.”

In her poem “Aurora Leigh,” Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote:

    Earth's crammed with heaven,
    And every common bush afire with God:
    But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,
    The rest sit round it, and pluck blackberries ...

Along the early morning path, my friend had removed her shoes. For her, earth was “crammed with heaven” and “every bush afire.” It wasn't just perkiness; she had eyes to see what I had completely missed. I was, as Browning might say, sitting around plucking blackberries.

I haven't seen that young woman for many years. She's grown up now. Maybe she has a family of her own. She's no doubt seen a good measure of heartache and trouble – who hasn't? But I would be surprised if she isn't basically a happy and contented person. Why? Because she discovered a valuable secret about happiness – she learned to find wonder in commonplace things and to feel gratitude for the ordinary. And life is nothing if not filled with the commonplace and ordinary.

After all, if a single morning can hold so much wonder for her, then a lifetime of mornings, not to mention evenings and everything in between, should keep her going through whatever life throws her way.

-- Steve Goodier (Life Support System)

Every Problem Has a Gift

Writer Richard Bach says, “Every problem has a gift for you in its hands.” I don't always see that gift, I admit. But I remember reading about Glenn Cunningham when I was a child. His life bore the truth of it ... every problem indeed has a gift for you. The trick is learning to find it.

In 1916 young Glenn and his brother Floyd were involved in a tragic accident.  Their school's pot-bellied stove exploded when the boys struck a match to light it. Somebody had mistakenly filled the can with gasoline instead of kerosene. Both boys were severely burned and had to be dragged from the schoolhouse. Floyd died of his injuries and doctors predicted that Glenn would be permanently crippled. Flesh and muscles were seared from both of Glenn's legs. His toes were burned off of his left foot and the foot's transverse arch was destroyed. Their local doctor recommended amputation of both legs and predicted that Glenn would never walk again. He told the boy's mother that it may have been better had he died.

Glenn overheard the remark and decided that day that he WAS going to walk, no matter what. But he couldn't climb from a wheelchair for two years. Then one day he grasped the white wooden pickets of the fence surrounding his home and pulled himself up to his feet. Painfully he stepped, hanging onto the fence. He made his way along the fence, back and forth. He did this the next day and next – every day for weeks. He wore a path along the fence shuffling sideways. But muscles began to knit and grow in his scarred legs and feet.

When Glenn could finally walk he decided he would do something else nobody ever expected him to do again – he would learn to run. “It hurt like thunder to walk,” Glenn later said, “but it didn't hurt at all when I ran. So for five or six years, about all I did was run.” At first it looked more like hopping than running. But Glenn ran everywhere he could. He ran around the home. He ran as he did his chores. He ran to and from school (about two miles each way). He never walked when he could run. And after his legs strengthened he continued to run, not because he had to, but now because he wanted to.

If there was a gift in the tragic accident, it was that if forced Glenn to run. And run he did. He competed as a runner in high school and college. Then Glenn went on to compete in the 1932 and 1936 Olympics. He set world records for the mile run in 1934 and 1938. By the time he retired from competition, Glenn amassed a mountain of records and awards.

“Every problem has a gift for you in its hands.” And if not every problem, then just about every one. Even spectacular sunsets are not possible without cloudy skies. Troubles bring a gift for those who choose to look. And since I can't avoid my problems, why waste them? I should look for the gift. My life will be far, far richer for finding it.

-- Steve Goodier  (Life Support System)