Two Simple, Little Words

Lecturer Charles Hobbs tells about a woman who lived in London over a century ago. She saved what little money she could working as a scullery maid and used it one evening to hear a great speaker of her day. His speech moved her deeply and she waited to visit with him afterward. “How fine it must be to have had the opportunities you have had in life,” she said.

“My dear lady,” he replied, “have you never received an opportunity?”

“No. I have never had a chance,” she said.

“What do you do?” the speaker asked.

She answered, “I peel onions and potatoes in my sister’s boarding house.”

“How long have you been doing this?” he pursued.

“Fifteen miserable years!”

“And where do you sit?” he continued. 

“Why, on the bottom step in the kitchen.” She looked puzzled.

“And where do you put your feet?”

“On the floor,” she answered, more puzzled. 

“What is the floor?”

“It is glazed brick.”

Then he said, “I will give you an assignment today. I want you to write me a letter about the bricks. Learn as much as you can about the bricks in your kitchen, then teach me.”

Against her protests about being a poor writer, he made her promise to complete the assignment.

The next day, as she sat down to peel onions, she gazed at the brick floor. That evening she pulled one loose, took it to a brick factory and asked the owner to explain to her how bricks were made.

Still not satisfied, she went to a library and found a book on bricks. She learned that 120 different kinds of brick and tile were being produced in England at the time. Now curious, she discovered how clay beds, which existed for millions of years, were formed. Her research captivated her imagination and she spent every spare moment learning more. She returned to the library night after night until she became something of an expert on bricks.

After months of study, she set out to write her letter as promised. She sent a 36-page document about English bricks and, to her surprise, she received a letter back. Enclosed was payment for her research. He had published her letter. And along with the money came a new assignment – this time he asked her to write about what she found underneath the brick.

For the first time in her life she could hardly wait to get back to the kitchen. She pulled up the brick and there was an ant. She held it in her hand and examined it.

That evening, she hurried back to the library to study ants. She learned that there were hundreds of different kinds of ants. Some were so small they could stand on the head of a pin; while others were so large one could feel the weight of them in one’s hand. She started her own ant colony and examined ants underneath a lens.

Several months later she wrote what she learned about ants in another long letter.  It, too, was eventually published. For the first time, she began to think that she might be able to do something different with her life. She was thrilled to discover that her future was not predetermined. And in time, the woman quit her kitchen job to take up writing.

Before she died, she had traveled to distant lands and had experienced more than she ever imagined possible. 

Two of the saddest words in the language are “if only.” If only I had a chance. If only I had the time. If only I had more education. If only I had connections. If only I had more money. If only things were different. If only...

And two of the most inspirational words are “I can.” I can try. I can learn. I can adjust. I can heal. I can change. I can grow. I  can do it.

Two simple, little words. Yet they can change a life.

--Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Janice Staines

When Luck Isn't Luck

Image by Jasmaine Mathews

  Ever wonder why some people seem to be luckier than others?

A little boy wanted a taste of molasses from the large barrel by the door of an old-fashioned country store. He slid a box beside the barrel, stepped up on it and leaned over the rim as far as possible, stretching out his finger toward the sweet goo below. He stretched and strained and toppled headfirst into the barrel.

Dripping with molasses, he stood up, lifted his eyes heavenward and was heard to utter, “Lord, help me to make the most of this fantastic opportunity!”

Most of us will never fall into a barrel of opportunity. We won't be awarded a great sum of money (though I am never sure that is in our best interest), we won't be offered a “dream job,” we won't have all of our needs suddenly provided for. We can spend years waiting for opportunity to knock only to find that we wasted precious time wishing for something to happen that never was to be.

Yet some people seem to luck into these things, don't they? It's as if they were in the right place at the right time and they just fell into it.

But that is not the way it happens. Those people who seize opportunities others seem to miss, find them for one specific reason: they have trained themselves. People who seem more fortunate than the rest of us are those who have taught themselves to look for possibilities in every circumstance and every obstacle.

I think David Boren, president of the University of Oklahoma, is such a man. Years ago, Boren learned from professional pollsters that he would most likely lose his state gubernatorial race, and lose it big. The professional polling agency he hired reported his strength to be only about two percent of the population.
   
Many people would quit the moment they receive such news. And in truth, that was his first reaction. Could anything good come out of such a bleak situation? But he had trained himself to look for opportunities, even when confronting great obstacles. He stayed in the race and approached his campaign in a different way. He told his listeners, “I had a professional poll taken and it shows I’ve got great potential for increasing my support!”    
   
That may sound a good deal better than it is. But he didn't give up and people began to listen to what he had to say. Boren eventually won the election and served as governor of the US state of Oklahoma.

People who spot opportunities may simply be people who have trained themselves to look for the best possible outcome in every situation and act on it. It takes a different way of thinking.

To everyone else it may just look like you're lucky. But you will know better.

-- Steve Goodier

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Skunks I’ve Run With

Are you running with one of these?

Ever run with a skunk?

A newspaper story once related that a mother of eight from Darlington, Maryland, had been visiting next door. When she returned home she went into the living room where she saw her five youngest children huddled in the center of the floor -- on her new carpet -- very much involved with something wiggly and squirmy. The perplexed mother looked closer. To her total dismay, she discovered that the children were gathered around a family of skunks.

In her horror she screamed, “Run, children, run!”

They did. Each child grabbed a skunk and ran.

I know I've sometimes made the same mistake. Instead of leaving a potentially smelly situation alone, I decided to run with it. Many of my problems have been the result of my own poor choices and bad judgment, though I may have been tempted to blame someone else. One such skunk I have run with was “the easy way” when there clearly was a “better way” which seemed too much trouble to bother with at the time. Another skunk I've run with was “instant gratification” -- the I-want-it-now decision that I would be sure to regret in the long run. Another might be called “it's too good to be true!” At a deep level I know that when it seems too good to be true, it probably is. But I've been known to go for it anyway.

I've made a lot of stinky decisions along the way, though I knew better. And I really can’t blame anyone or anything else. I got seduced by a cute, furry, little bundle of temptation which was actually nothing more than a skunk in disguise. And instead of running AWAY from it, I picked it up and made it mine. I ran WITH it.

I don't know how often opportunity knocks, but temptations to make foul decisions bang on my door all day long. And smelly decisions make for smelly problems later on. A few little decisions, good or bad, can make a big difference in a life. Better to run from those skunks than with them.

Like me, have you ever run with skunks? Or the more important question is...if you’re running with one now, will you put it down? You will be glad you did and you’ll have no one to blame for the sudden improvement but yourself.

– Steve Goodier 

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Image by Torli Roberts

Building a Boat

Abraham Lincoln once said, "I will prepare, and some day my chance will come." When his chance came, he was ready.

During his seminary years, one priest-in-training owned a favorite T-shirt. Across the front was emblazoned: "Expectant Father." His chance came and he, too, was ready.

When your chance comes, will you be ready?

I know that sports stories don’t speak to everyone, but if you’ll indulge me, I think Wayne Gretzky has something powerful to teach us about preparation. Former ice hockey superstar Gretzky knew the value of being ready. He broke almost every record imaginable and is generally thought to be the greatest hockey player of all time.

“The Great One,” as he is often called, is not particularly big – he stands at 5 feet 11 inches tall and weighed about 170 pounds during his career. He never skated particularly fast, his shot was not high-powered and he often placed dead last on regular strength tests administered to his team. So what made him so great?

Gretzky attributes his stardom to practice and preparation. He practiced stick handling in the off-season with a tennis ball, as the ball was harder to control than a puck. In practice he innovated. He practiced bouncing the puck off the sideboards to his teammates until that technique became a regular part of his play. Then he worked on bouncing the puck off the net. He became so accomplished at these maneuvers that he sometimes said, "People say there's only six men on the ice, but really, if you use the angle of deflection of the board, there's seven. If you count the net, that's eight. From the opening face-off, I always figure we have 'em eight-on-six."

The Great One was so great because, when his chance came to make an impact, he was ready. And because he was ready, chances came again and again.

I’ve learned this: it doesn’t matter what awaits me just across the sea if I haven’t built a boat.

Many years ago a friend and I were talking about a speaking engagement I had accepted in Los Angeles. “I’d love to go places and speak or lead seminars,” she said.

I asked her, “What would you speak about? What do you want to teach?”

“I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to write a book and lead seminars,” she said, “but I’ve never gotten around to it.”

I’ve heard her speak – she has a great ability to relate to people. She has a charismatic personality. She is intelligent and articulate. I have no doubt she could excel in such a field.

We talked about her need to develop expertise in an area about which she is passionate. We talked about how she might look for opportunities to lead local seminars and teach courses. And we talked about steps she might take toward writing her book, something she had wanted to do for a long time.

But a number of years after our conversation, she has still done none of those things. If her chance comes, she will not be ready. And more likely, since she is not ready, her chance will probably never come.

I often hear people say, “If only I had a chance.” Maybe it’s a chance at a new position, a bigger challenge or to do something different. Perhaps they are waiting for a chance to prove themselves or a chance to really make a difference.

But I wonder -- if I were offered that new challenge today, would I be ready to meet it? Am I prepared to take full advantage?

It’s not enough for me to dream about exotic, new places. I need to build a boat.

Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Stanley Zimny