Just Seeing What Life Brings

You’ve heard it said that what you see is what you get. But what I’ve discovered is that it’s not what you see, but what you think you see, that determines what you get.

In the “Journal of the American Medical Association,” Dr. Paul Ruskin demonstrated how our perception of reality (not actually what is going on, but how we perceive it) determines how we feel about it. While teaching a class on the psychological aspects of aging, he read the following case to his students:

The patient neither speaks nor comprehends the spoken word. Sometimes she babbles incoherently for hours on end. She is disoriented about person, place, and time. She does, however, respond to her name. I have worked with her for the past six months, but she still shows complete disregard for her physical appearance and makes no effort to assist her own care. She must be fed, bathed, and clothed by others. Because she has no teeth, her food must be pureed. Her shirt is usually soiled from almost incessant drooling. She does not walk. Her sleep pattern is erratic. Often she wakes in the middle of the night, and her screaming awakens others. Most of the time she is friendly and happy, but several times a day she gets quite agitated without apparent cause. Then she wails until someone comes to comfort her.

After presenting the case, Dr. Ruskin asked his students how they would like caring for this person. Most of them said they would not like it at all. He then said that he believed he would especially enjoy it and thought that they might, also. He passed a picture of the patient around for his puzzled students to see. It was his six-month-old daughter.

Most of the students thought that what they saw, in Ruskin’s description, was the task of caring for a difficult elderly woman with severe dementia and loss of bodily control with little or no self awareness. But when shown the picture, they realized that what they thought they saw and what they now clearly saw were quite different realities.

I have numerous tasks ahead today. How will I see them? Am I already seeing something I think I’ll dread without giving it a chance? Am I seeing something as negative when it could turn out to be rewarding or even a great opportunity for some growth? And what if I chose not to expect the worst and just see what life brings me?

I feel better about my day already.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Jason Hoang

Which Direction Are You Looking?

Newscaster Paul Harvey once related a story about a woman from Michigan who vacationed in Florida. She found a secluded spot on the roof of her hotel to soak up a few rays of sunshine, and in order to get a “total” tan, she removed all her clothing. Within a half-hour the hotel manager was beside her insisting that she cover up. She argued that nobody was in sight. He agreed. Problem was – she was stretched out over the hotel skylight.

It occurs to me that the hotel’s problems began because somebody was looking up! Which normally is an excellent thing to do. At least in attitude. But what a surprise lay in store that day for those beneath the skylight.

As you know, some folks spend their lives looking down. Downcast in spirit, they hang their heads and lead negative and joyless lives. Frankly, it’s a difficult way to live.

Others are constantly looking out. They live in fear and watch vigilantly for problems, real or imaginary, that threaten their happiness. Because they are risk-averse, they seldom challenge themselves to grow and rarely make a difference in life.

Still others seem always to be looking around. Forever searching for a better partner, a better job or a better deal, they keep a watchful eye out and seldom experience a lasting commitment. 

And others yet can be found too-often looking back. They believe their best days are behind them and they have no hope for the future. They can’t fully enjoy today because their eyes are on yesterday.

But a few vibrant folks are usually found looking up. These resilient individuals have learned how to look beyond problems to solutions; beyond discouragement to hope. Their positive attitude draws others in. They see the good because they look for it. They are encouragers and, at times, their hopeful attitude inspires those around them. 

For people who learn the habit of looking up, the payoff is usually satisfaction and joy. As Earl Nightingale correctly stated, “Our attitude toward life determines life's attitude towards us.”

You can tell a lot about a person simply by noticing which direction they are inclined to look. Do they look down? Or do they look out? Maybe they are often found looking around or looking back. But there will always be some who will look up, no matter which direction others may face. 

The better question to ask is, which way will you look?

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/memphis CVB

Two Windows to Truth

You may be familiar with the story. Harry Truman and Tom Dewey faced off in the 1948 US presidential elections. Dewey went to bed convinced, by early election results, that he was the next president of the United States. But when he awoke, he learned that Harry Truman had won. What may not be as well known is that Dewey said to his wife on election day, "Dear, tonight you'll be sleeping with the President of the United States." When they learned that Harry Truman actually won, Mrs. Dewey said to her husband, "Tom, will I be going to Washington or is Mr. Truman coming here?"

It is difficult to predict the future. But one group that has had some success with gazing at the "crystal ball" is the World Future Society. In 1987 the society met in Cambridge, Massachusetts and predicted that the 21st century will include:

1. A transition from an industrial to an information and service society.
2. A terrific increase in the rate of change.
3. Globalizations in every area of business and life.
4. Re-spiritualization of society (reversing the secularization trend of recent centuries), tying knowledge to vision and direction.

Early in the 21st century we have already seen these trends evolving. I find all four fascinating, but the last one particularly intrigues me. A reader sent me this quote from anthropologist Jane Goodall. Goodall, a scientist, says this about spirituality:

"Thinking back over my life, it seems to me that there are different ways of looking out and trying to understand the world around us. There's a very clear scientific window. And it does enable us to understand an awful lot about what's out there. There's another window; it's the window through which the wise men, the holy men, the masters of the different and great religions look as they try to understand the meaning in the world. My own preference is the window of the mystic."

That is a remarkable statement coming from a scientist, but both windows are necessary if we are to understand the world.

Some of us more naturally gravitate toward reason and logic. It is an important window on the world. Raised by a scientist, I understand that and appreciate it. Others more easily understand the world through spiritual eyes. I married one of these people and deeply appreciate her view of reality. The eyes of the soul, looking through a spiritual window, can often see things the mind misses. We shouldn’t discount one method of arriving at truth because we are not as familiar with using it.

I don’t want to under-appreciate the window of science, nor do I want to neglect the window of the mystic. If I spend time gazing out both windows, I’ll see with my mind as well as with my heart. I expect to be amazed.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: freeimage.com/Griszka Niewiadomski

Our Greatest Songs Are Still Unsung

Are you able to warmly welcome the future as you would a new friend?

The late US senator Hubert Humphrey, a man with an indomitable zest for living, once talked about the "good old days." He said, "They were never that good, believe me. The good new days are today, and better days are coming tomorrow. Our greatest songs are still unsung."

What a marvelous spirit. Our greatest songs are still unsung! Quite a different spirit is found in a business magazine ad that pictures a newborn baby with the caption: "Only 22,463 days until retirement." The ad is cute, but it picks up on a spirit of our day. It is a spirit of worry and anxiety. It is a spirit that tells us, "You don't know what the future holds. It is likely to be bleak; even disastrous. Plan carefully." You know what spirit I mean.

I have always believed in the future. And I will look forward to it with great anticipation. Why shouldn't I make friends with the future? After all, I intend to spend the rest of my life there.

I am intrigued by a story about a bishop back in the 1870s. The bishop had charge of a small denominational college. Annually, he visited the school and stayed in the home of the president.

The bishop was a narrow thinker with a dim view of the future. He told the school president during one of those visits that everything that could be invented had already been invented.

The administrator disagreed. "In 50 years," he contested, "people will learn to fly like birds."

That kind of talk greatly disturbed the bishop. "Flight is reserved for birds and angels," he said emphatically, "and you, sir, are guilty of blasphemy!"

The name of the bishop was Milton Wright. That name may not have a great deal of meaning to you, but something else will. You see, back at home, this clergyman had two enthusiastic sons - Orville and Wilbur - who believed that our greatest songs were still unsung. The rest of the story is one of an enthusiastic belief in tomorrow. You know how it ends.

Do you believe that your greatest songs are still unsung? Will you joyously welcome tomorrow, and all the tomorrows to come? After all, the good new days are today, and better days are coming tomorrow. 

-- Steve Goodier

Image: freeimage.com/gilderm

What Are We Doing to Our Children?

 

Image by Marg

Karl A. Menninger said, “What's done to children, they will do to society.” 

One proud father said to his little boy, "I've got news for you, my big boy. You are going to have a beautiful baby brother."

"Great!" yelped the little boy. "Where's Mom? I can't wait to tell her!"

His sister, however, wasn't nearly as excited about the arrival. After a few days her father asked, "Aren't you happy about having a new baby brother?"

"Not really," she admitted. "I wanted a little sister so we could play girl games when she got bigger. And we can't give him back. We've used him for five days."

However, she may yet grow to love her little brother. If not now, later.

Psychiatrist Karl A. Menninger spent a lifetime studying mental illness. He observed that “what's done to children, they will do to society.” There is nothing new here. We all know that abused children often become abusers. Children taught to hate or children raised in violence commonly become dangerous and destructive adults.

But there is a positive side, too. Children nurtured in kindness learn the value of understanding. Children taught to be self-sufficient, to respect others, to value education and to build life up rather than to tear it down will become adults capable of leading us to a brighter future. For what's done to children, they will do to society.

An unknown author put it succinctly: "A child is a person who is going to carry on what you have started. He or she is going to sit where you are sitting and attend to those things that you think are important. You may adopt all the policies you please, but how they will be carried out depends on our young people. They will assume control of your duties, states and nation. They are going to move in and take over your churches, schools, universities and corporations. All your books will be judged, praised or condemned by them. The fate of humanity is in their hands. So it might be well to pay young people attention."

What are we doing to our children?

-- Steve Goodier

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How Much Music Can You Make?

Imagine this. A concert violinist is performing a difficult piece in front of a large audience. Suddenly there is a loud snap that reverberates throughout the auditorium. The audience immediately knows that a string has broken and fully expects the concert to be suspended until another string, or instrument, is brought to the musician.

But instead, the violinist composes herself, closes her eyes and then signals the conductor to begin again. The orchestra resumes where it had left off and now the musician plays the music on the remaining three strings. In her mind she works out new fingering to compensate. A work that few people can play well on a perfect instrument, the violinist with the broken string plays magnificently.

When she finishes, an awesome silence hangs in the room. And then as one, the crowd rises to their feet amidst enthusiastic applause and cheers. The violinist smiles and wipes perspiration from her brow. When silence returns to the great room, she explains why she continued to play in spite of the accident. "You know," she says, still breathless, "sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."

(Though this incident is sometimes purported to have happened to the famous violinist Itzhak Perlman, it cannot be substantiated and is more likely grist in the mill of urban legend. But there is a powerful truth in this story nevertheless.)

We know what the violinist means, don't we? We know about experiencing losses and setbacks. We know what it means to find out how much music we can still make with what we have left.

Maybe you've lived most of your life and you have only a little time remaining. Though most of your life is behind, can you still make music?

Maybe disease or an accident has robbed you of your capacity to work. Though too sick or weak to hold down a job, are there other ways to contribute? Can you still make music?

Perhaps a financial loss has left you impoverished. Without the resources you've enjoyed in the past, can you count up the numerous other resources still available to you? Time? Energy? Skills? Knowledge? Can you still make music?

Or maybe a meaningful relationship has ended and you feel alone in the world. Will you figure out what that loss means in your life, grieve its passing and decide you still have a future? Can you still make music?

There are times when we all experience loss; times when something occurs that changes everything. Like the violinist, will you find the courage to discover just how much music you can still make with what you have left? How much good you can still do? How much joy you can still share?

I'm convinced that the world, more than ever, needs the music only you can make. And if it takes extra courage to keep playing in spite of your loss, many will applaud the effort. And who knows? Others may be inspired to pick up their broken instruments, their broken lives, and begin again.

The all-important question we each must ask is this: Just how much music can I make with what I have left?

– Steve Goodier

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Image by Sam Hakes

Not Skeered of Dyin'

Image by Lynn Cummings

Economist Jeremy Gluck speculated on US Federal Reserve Board Chairman Alan Greenspan’s epitaph. Picking up on the tone of so many of Greenspan's speeches, he decided the epitaph would probably read something like this: “I am guardedly optimistic about the next world, but remain cognizant of the down-side risk.”

Though many people feel at peace about their own eventual death, others are concerned about the possible “downside risk.” One of humankind’s greatest fears is around death and the process of dying. Like the song “Old Man River” says:

“Ah gits weary an’ sick of tryin’
 Ah’m tired of livin’ an’ skeered of dyin’”

Some people believe that the most basic of human fears is the fear of death. “Skeered of dyin’.” Maybe you feel it a little, too.

I take heart in a story about John Quincy Adams. In his later years, Adams spoke about growing old. He said, “I inhabit a weak, frail, decayed tenement battered by the winds and broken in on by the storms and, from all I can learn, the landlord does not intend to repair.”

Though he may have held out no hope that he would not die, he approached his own death with acceptance and a remarkable lack of concern. When the elderly statesman fast approached his 80th birthday, he succinctly related his philosophy of death. The occasion happened as he hobbled down the street one day in his favorite city of Boston, leaning heavily on a cane, and a friend suddenly approached and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Well, how’s John Quincy Adams this morning?” the friend inquired.

The old man turned slowly, smiled and replied, “Fine, sir, fine! But this old tenement that John Quincy lives in is not so good. The underpinning is about to fall away. The thatch is all gone off the roof, and the windows are so dim John Quincy can hardly see out anymore. As a matter of fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if, before the winter’s over, he had to move out. But as for John Quincy Adams, he never was better...never was better!”

I have spent much of my life around death. I have sat with people as they died. I have listened to others relate near-death experiences. I have studied theology and am aware of what scriptures and religions say about life and death. And I have come to the conclusion that death is not to be feared. Moreover, when it is time for me to move out of this tenement in which I am housed, I intend to look forward to it joyfully. I want to say, “I never was better...never was better!”

– Steve Goodier

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The Magic Is Inside You

Image courtesy of Steve Knight

When Jeanne Calment turned 120 years old, she was asked what her view of the future was. "Very brief," she responded. I would imagine so at 120, but I expect I still have a future.

What is your view of the future?

A lonely frog called a psychic hotline. "You will meet a beautiful young woman who will want to learn all about you," the psychic advisor told him.

"Where will I meet her?" he asked. "Down by the old mill stream?"

"No," she said. "In biology class."

I think I would want to call another psychic for a second opinion.

Scott Adams, of “Dilbert” comic strip fame, says this about predictions: "There are many methods for predicting the future. For example, you can read horoscopes, tea leaves, tarot cards, or crystal balls. Collectively, these methods are known as 'nutty methods.' Or you can put well-researched facts into sophisticated computer models, more commonly referred to as ‘a complete waste of time.’"

I received a postcard from a psychic adviser once. It said that if I call a certain number (one for which I would be charged a hefty fee), she would lead me through a hazy future to clarity and happiness. I wondered if she really could tell me important details about my life and future – I mean, clarity and happiness don’t sound half bad. Then I turned the card over. I noticed that it was addressed to the wrong house. That’s when I thought, if she doesn't even know where I am, how can she know where I am going?

But if the future is not ours to see, I’m okay with that because I go along with Dolly Parton in her song “These Old Bones.” Dolly sings, “You just remember that the magic is inside you, there ain't no crystal ball.” The magic is inside you. Maybe not the magic to see into the future, but certainly the magic to shape it.

At the end of my life, what will matter to me? Not that I ever had the ability foresee my future (I have little interest in that), but that I had a hand in shaping it. I refuse to think my life is in the hands of the fates and what will be, will be. I have dreams. I have longings. I have significant aspirations for my own future and even for the world. Much of the world I can’t influence. But I can control my thoughts and actions; I can choose my attitudes and behaviors. That is the magic inside me. I can largely shape who I will become, and when I do, I am shaping my future.

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams,” said Eleanor Roosevelt, a woman who did much to change the world around her. If there is only one thing to do today, that would be it: to believe in the beauty of my dreams. Really believe in them. That’s where the magic is and anything can happen.

-- Steve Goodier

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Living Forward

Image courtesy of Sardinelly

I recently learned about a grave somewhere in France at the head of which stands a marker with this inscription: "In memory of Maggie, a mule, who in her lifetime kicked 1 colonel, 1 major, 3 lieutenants, 11 sergeants, 27 privates, and 1 bomb."
 
Maybe Maggie had it in for officers. Maybe she blamed them for her misery and ill treatment. Maybe she blamed them every time she was forced into service. I don’t know – there’s no telling what goes through a mule’s head. And there’s no telling why she kicked a bomb.
 
But Maggie isn’t the only one who has gone through life kicking out and blaming others for their misery. Most of us have probably acquired a long list of things to kick about and have done our sharing of kicking.
 
Kim Phuc has more to kick about than most of us. Photographer Nick Ut received a Pulitzer Prize for a dramatic war-time picture taken in Viet Nam. You may remember seeing it. The black and white picture shows a little girl in agony walking naked down a country road amongst other weeping children. Dark smoke hangs heavily in the sky behind the fleeing group. The child's arms are painfully outstretched and her face is contorted in an expression of terror and misery. A Napalm bomb, dropped on her village, seared off the little girl's clothing and severely burned her skin.
 
The date is June 8, 1972. The child, Kim Phuc, was carried by Nick to a truck and transported to an area hospital. She cried over and over, "Nóng Quá, Nóng Quá," which means "Too hot! Too hot!"
 
Kim hovered between life and death. She required 17 different surgical operations and months of rehabilitation. Today, she lives in Canada and has become an important spokesperson on issues of war and peace. "Pain never disappears," Kim says. "You just learn how to deal with it."
 
In 1996 she was asked to say a few words at the Viet Nam War Memorial in Washington D.C. Kim talked about forgiving those people who were responsible for all the misery and suffering inflicted that tragic day. She said, "Even if I could talk face to face with the pilot who dropped the bombs, I would tell him we cannot change history but we should try to do good things for the present and for the future to promote peace." It was a message of forgiveness. She knew that her acts of reconciliation were the bricks that could pave the only true road to peace.
 
Kim could easily spend the rest of her life kicking out at those who caused her so much misery. There are certainly plenty of people she can blame for her suffering. She could have grown up a bitter and resentful woman. But instead, she is a person of graceful dignity.
 
Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard teaches, “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” Kim chooses every day to live her life forward, to “do good things for the present and the future.” Every day Kim chooses a better way. Every day Kim chooses life.
 
And every day, that’s a choice we all must make.
 
-- Steve Goodier


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Needless Worry

A story worth dusting off is about a man who bragged: “I only worry about two things – whether I am sick or well. If I’m well, I have nothing to worry about. And if I’m sick, I’ve only got two things to worry about – whether I get better or whether I die. If I get better, I have nothing to worry about. And if I die, I’ve only got two things to worry about – whether I go to heaven or hell. If I go to heaven, I have nothing to worry about. And if I go to hell, I’ll be so busy greeting my friends I won’t have time to worry. So why worry?”

Regardless of how you feel about his view of life after life, he makes a good point about worry. There is really no room for needless concern about the future. I like what Ralph Waldo Emerson said about worry:

"Some of your hurts you have cured,
And the sharpest you still have survived,
But what torments of grief you endured
From evil that never arrived."

If you’re like me, more than once you’ve found yourself enduring “torments of grief” from evil that has not yet arrived and probably never will. Almost without our being aware, healthy concern for the future can be transformed into cancerous worry. “What if?” we ask. “What if something happens?” “What if things don’t turn out?” “What if…?” Worry can become an all-too-constant companion we might wish would just go away and leave us alone.

And I’m sure about one thing: that my high anxiety about the future doesn't help me with tomorrow's troubles; it only succeeds in ruining today's happiness. I am sure that needless worry, more than anything else, has kept me from really living. It has never helped me solve real problems; it has only destroyed what happiness I might have found in the present. What is worry other than habitual fear of the future? It is a habit of feeling fear. And, like any other habit, it can be hard to break. But also, like any other habit, it CAN be replaced with a better one.

So, what might happen if you should decide to let go of that needless worry - just for today? Can you do it, for one day? What do you have to lose besides anxiety? And look what you may gain – a chance to REALLY LIVE.

Sounds like decent trade to me.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/E Greens

Making a Brand New End

I have a friend who says he is going to change his telephone voice message greeting. He wants to say, "Thank you for calling. I’ve been making some changes in my life. Please leave a message. If I don’t call you back soon, you’re one of the changes."

I don’t know if he ever got around to it. But I do know that making personal changes is often what life is all about. We’d better learn how to welcome change if we want to live fully.

Do you remember this story? Two men came from similar backgrounds. They both grew up in "dysfunctional" homes. An alcohol-addicted parent raised them both. They both endured numerous hardships as a result of the many problems brought about by their unstable home lives.

As adults, however, their lives looked quite different. One of the men couldn’t seem to keep a job for long. He was frequently let go for alcohol-related problems. He was married for a while, but his wife could not live with him any longer and eventually left. He felt hopeless and believed himself to be a failure.

A reporter interviewed him as part of an article she was writing on the effects of alcoholism in the home. She asked him, "To what do you attribute your present circumstances?"

"Given my background," he replied, "what do you expect?"

The other man held a steady job. He enjoyed a stable marriage and home life. He was involved in his children’s lives. Overall, he felt productive and useful.

"To what do you attribute your present circumstances?" the reporter asked him, referring to his obvious success.

"Given my background," he replied, "what do you expect?"

Naturally, our past will shape our present. Our backgrounds are crucial in determining the kinds of decisions we will make as adults. 

But in this case, both men were shaped in different ways by their past. One slipped into those old, familiar patterns and recreated them as an adult. The other was determined never to repeat what he had experienced as a child. The first man felt helpless to change. The other used his background as motivation to make needed changes.

It’s true that we are products of our past. We are shaped by our parents, by our backgrounds and by pivotal people in our lives. We are products of our past. But we CAN make changes. 

Like someone said:

"You may not go back and make a brand new start, my friend –
But you can start right now to make a brand new end."

Psychologists now tell us that our difficult backgrounds can actually make us more resilient. (Check Steven and Sybil Wolin’s fascinating book The Resilient Self.) Hardships can make us strong and give us needed motivation to be different in the future. A difficult background can actually be no less than a marvelous gift.

It comes down to one question: do I use the hard times in my past as an excuse or as a gift?

-- Steve Goodier



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Changing with the Changes

A clerk at a Philadelphia airline counter picked up the telephone and heard the caller ask, “How long does it take to go from Philadelphia to Phoenix?”

She was busy with another customer just then and intended to put the caller on hold.

“Just a minute,” she replied.

As she was about to press the hold button, the caller said, “Thank you,” and hung up.

We live in an age when it seems almost anything is possible. But a trip of a couple thousand miles in a few minutes?

Our time is one of unprecedented change. I understand that 2005 was the first year that there were more spam e-mails sent than cans of Spam sold. And if you wonder what a can of Spam is, then you see how much things have changed.

In a restaurant, a mother noticed her eleven-year-old daughter staring at a movie poster on the wall. The picture portrayed Superman standing in a phone booth. The girl’s mother whispered to her husband, “Doesn’t she know who Superman is?”

He told her it was worse than that. “She doesn't know what a phone booth is.”

I heard someone mention that he believes most of the changes that will ever take place already have occurred. I am sure that isn’t so. Our new reality is one of constant and unending change.

Some changes can be good and some we may feel are not for the best. Most change is uncomfortable and awkward at first. But, of course, if we don’t occasionally feel awkward with what we’re doing, maybe we are not doing anything new. And unless we’d rather live in the past, we’ll be happiest learning to embrace this world of change and to change and adapt along with it.

The world can still be a wonderful and exciting place to live. Do you believe that? If so, change with the changes. Resist your resistance to changing. Your attitude toward change is one of the most important measures of determining whether you can be happy.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Claudio Montes

You Have a Chance

Charles Revson, founder of the successful cosmetic manufacturing firm Revlon, once said, “In our factory we make lipstick. In our advertising, we sell hope.”

We could use a little more hope. I think that is why people buy lottery tickets. One poor mother, who was raising her children on a small salary earned from long hours of hard work, was asked, “Why do you waste your money on a lottery ticket when you can hardly make ends meet?”

“Yeah, I buy a ticket every day,” the woman acknowledged. “But a dollar is not too much to pay for 24 hours of hope.”

There are probably better uses for her money than buying lottery tickets. But she would rather hang onto a little hope than onto her dollar.

We need hope. It is a vital ingredient in life. Without it, far too many people come to the conclusion that they are powerless in the face of difficulties. "It can't be helped," is their motto. Without hope, they won't make needed changes. They feel powerless. Without hope, they will grimly accept the unacceptable and believe that things are about as good as they will ever get.

I've found that I can either be a prisoner of circumstances or a practitioner of hope. I can feel sorry for myself and helpless to do anything about my problems, or I can believe there is a realistic chance for something better.

Norman Cousins, in his book Head First, the Biology of Hope, illustrates the power of hope. He tells of two physicians who were to deliver a paper at a national meeting of cancer specialists. One was truly perplexed. “I don’t understand it, Bob," he said. "We use the same drugs, the same dosage, and the same schedule of treatment. Yet I get a 22% recovery rate and you get a 74% recovery rate. How do you explain that?”

The other responded, “We both use Etoposide, Platinol, Oncovin, and Hydroxyurea. You put those letters together and tell people that you are giving them E-P-O-H. I put them together and explain to them that they are receiving H-O-P-E. I emphasize that they have a chance.”

You do have a chance. You have a chance at life. You have a chance at success. You have a chance at wholeness. You have a chance at meaningful relationships and, though you may not believe it, at happiness.

Are you a prisoner of circumstances … stuck and helpless, or a practitioner of hope? It can be a difference between life and death.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Diana Robinson