I trudged off to work the other day in a funk.
I fumed that my car was still in the shop and I cracked my iPhone screen for the second time (really the third time, but that’s a story for another day.) I worried about a project that I’m working on for work and where I stood with several of my deadlines. I worried too that Stephen forgot a book on the kitchen table that morning and possibly forgot his homework.
My head was filled with anxiety. To top it off, I hadn’t slept real well, got a late start getting out the door and it was raining again.
We had dropped Erin off at school earlier in the week in the rain. The long ride home was in the rain. It had rained buckets the previous day and I nearly got sideswiped by another driver. And now I was off to work again in the rain.
Let’s just say, I was pensive, grumpy and wet when I finally made it to work. And then I saw one of those silly meme’s that a friend had posted on Facebook. It wasn’t rocket science, just simple homespun advice:
You have a choice each and every day.
I choose to feel Blessed.
I choose to feel Grateful.
I choose to be Excited.
I choose to be Thankful.
I choose to be Happy.
I’ve heard this advice before. Heck, I’ve given this advice a million times to my kids. But for whatever reason, it seemed to make sense.
I told myself before heading into my first meeting of the day that I was going to choose to be grateful, blessed, and happy. I was going to listen to those around me. I was going to focus as much of my attention in the moment as I could. I was going to be positive. I was going to worry less and trust more.
There were no angels coming out of the sky . . . but oh how I wished they had, since that would have really woke-up everyone else in the meeting. And the skies did not open up with a bright all-encompassing light or a deep booming God-like voice. Can you imagine everyone’s reaction after that meeting?
No, my problems were still my problems. My deadline for my project hadn’t changed. I still had a day full of meetings. When I called about my car, the garage still didn’t have an answer on when I would get it back. And I can’t say I had any newfound wisdom.
Instead, I found that in simply taking each minute as it came, my problems seemed more manageable. I was relaxed. My breathing was calmer, my head clearer. When I looked out the window, the rain didn’t seem to bother me. I seemed to actually enjoy it. There were no miracles, but I certainly seemed to change for the better.
Now if I could just remember to think like this everyday, then maybe I might be a better husband, father, son, co-worker, leader, etc.
In any event, thanks Carol for the post.
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