When We’re Run Down

Two‌ ‌natural‌ ‌gas‌ ‌company‌ ‌service‌ ‌personnel,‌ ‌a‌ ‌senior‌ ‌training‌ ‌supervisor‌ ‌and‌ ‌a‌ ‌young‌ ‌trainee,‌ ‌were‌ ‌out‌ ‌checking‌ ‌meters‌ ‌in‌ ‌a‌ ‌suburban‌ ‌neighborhood.‌ ‌They‌ ‌parked‌ ‌their‌ ‌truck‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌end‌ ‌of‌ ‌an‌ ‌alley‌ ‌and‌ ‌worked‌ ‌their‌ ‌way‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌other‌ ‌end.‌ At‌ ‌the‌ ‌last‌ ‌house,‌ ‌a‌ ‌woman‌ ‌looking‌ ‌out‌ ‌her‌ ‌kitchen‌ ‌window‌ ‌watched‌ ‌the‌ ‌two‌ ‌men‌ ‌as‌ ‌they‌ ‌checked‌ ‌her‌ ‌gas‌ ‌meter.‌ ‌When‌ ‌they‌ ‌finished,‌ ‌the‌ ‌senior‌ ‌supervisor,‌ ‌proud‌ ‌of‌ ‌his‌ ‌physical‌ ‌condition,‌ ‌challenged‌ ‌his‌ ‌younger‌ ‌co-worker‌ ‌to‌ ‌a‌ ‌foot‌ ‌race‌ ‌back‌ ‌to‌ ‌their‌ ‌truck.‌ ‌As‌ ‌they‌ ‌approached‌ ‌the‌ ‌truck,‌ ‌they‌ ‌realized‌ ‌that‌ ‌the‌ ‌woman‌ ‌was‌ ‌huffing‌ ‌and‌ ‌puffing‌ ‌right‌ ‌behind‌ ‌them.‌ ‌They‌ ‌stopped‌ ‌and‌ ‌asked‌ ‌her‌ ‌what‌ ‌was‌ ‌wrong.‌ ‌ Gasping‌ ‌for‌ ‌breath,‌ ‌she‌ ‌replied,‌ ‌“When‌ ‌I‌ ‌saw‌ ‌two‌ ‌gas‌ company ‌men‌ ‌running‌ ‌as‌ ‌hard‌ ‌as‌ ‌you‌ ‌two‌ ‌were,‌ ‌I‌ ‌figured‌ ‌I’d‌ ‌better‌ ‌run,‌ ‌too!”‌ ‌ In‌ ‌another‌ ‌way,‌ ‌we‌ ‌spend‌ ‌a‌ ‌great‌ ‌deal‌ ‌of‌ time‌ ‌running,‌ ‌don’t‌ ‌we?‌ ‌We‌ ‌are‌ ‌running‌ ‌to‌ ‌catch‌ up‌ ‌at‌ ‌work.‌ ‌We‌ ‌are‌ ‌running‌ ‌to‌ ‌keep‌ ‌up‌ ‌at‌ ‌home.‌ ‌We‌ ‌speak‌ ‌of‌ ‌“running”‌ ‌errands.‌ ‌We‌ ‌“rush”‌ ‌off,‌ ‌we‌ ‌stop‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌“Quick”‌ ‌mart,‌ ‌we‌ ‌buy‌ ‌“fast”‌ ‌food,‌ ‌we‌ ‌use‌ ‌the‌ ‌“express”‌ ‌lane,‌ ‌and‌ ‌we‌ ‌“hurry”‌ ‌back‌ ‌so‌ ‌we‌ ‌can‌ ‌“race”‌ ‌through‌ ‌our‌ ‌meal.‌ ‌Too‌ ‌often‌ ‌our‌ ‌lives‌ ‌are‌ ‌lived‌ ‌in‌ ‌fast‌ ‌forward.‌ ‌Then we complain that we’re ‌run‌ ‌down. One‌ ‌telecommunications‌ ‌company‌ ‌executive‌ ‌went‌ ‌to‌ ‌see‌ ‌his‌ ‌doctor.‌ ‌She‌ ‌listened‌ ‌to‌ ‌her‌ ‌patient’s‌ ‌heart,‌ ‌shook‌ ‌her‌ ‌head‌ ‌and‌ ‌said,‌ ‌“All‌ ‌I‌ ‌get‌ ‌is‌ ‌a‌ ‌busy‌ ‌signal.”‌ ‌ For many people, these unusual days seem less hurried than before. Because of the COVID-19 scare and subsequent isolation from others, many of us have found that slowing down is what our bodies and souls have craved for years. We find more time to take‌ ‌long ‌walks.‌ ‌We spend‌ ‌more ‌time‌ alone.‌ ‌We discover the re-energizing power of just being ‌still.‌ ‌We actually know what it means to listen‌ deeply ‌to‌ ‌our‌ ‌spirits.‌ ‌We might even discover, as Alan Wolfelt puts it, that we’ve been giving “mindless attention to things that don’t really matter and that we don’t really care about.” Surprisingly,‌ ‌we ‌might even ‌find‌ ‌we ‌have‌ ‌‌more‌ ‌energy‌ ‌for‌ ‌important‌ ‌tasks that we have for too long neglected.‌ When things get back to normal,‌ ‌will we ‌wonder‌ ‌why‌ ‌we ‌ever‌ ‌rushed‌ ‌at‌ ‌all? Today I’ll set my own pace. I’ll still arrive and, better yet, I’ll enjoy the journey.

--Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Ian Britton

Learning To Wait

You might remember comedian Yakov Smirnoff. When he first came to the United States from Russia, he was not prepared for the incredible variety of instant products available in American grocery stores. He says, “On my first shopping trip, I saw powdered milk – you just add water and you get milk. Then I saw powdered orange juice – you just add water and you get orange juice. And then I saw baby powder, and I thought to myself, “What a country!”

I know what he means. I once saw a novelty item - it was a can of dehydrated water. The instructions read: Open can. Just add water.

We live in a world that craves instant gratification; instant satisfaction. Just add water. Ready to eat. Cooks in one minute. No need to wait.

One old story tells of a judge who questioned the defendant. “What are you charged with?” he asked. 

“Doing my Christmas shopping early,” replied the man.”

“That’s no offense,” said the judge. “How early were you doing this shopping?”

“Before the store opened.” 

Few of us will go to those extremes to satisfy our desire to “get it now,” but we know what we want and we wish we could have it yesterday. We don’t like to wait.

Yet waiting is a discipline we have to learn if we’re to be happy. Whether we learn to delay gratification or simply learn to be patient, we can’t live well without learning to wait.

There is certainly a place for decisiveness and action, but there is also a place for patience. Have you learned when to wait?

• Wait for guidance...learn to be still.
• Wait for wisdom...it will come with experience.
• Wait for growth...it happens in the fullness of time.
• Wait for the sunrise...there will be another day.
• Wait and be contented...it is a secret to inner peace.

There is a time to act, but there is also a time to wait. Learn to tell what time it is - great things can happen for those who learn to wait. Ralph Waldo Emerson said it well: “Adopt the pace of nature; her secret is patience."           

-- Steve Goodier 

Image: flickr.com/Wendell

Time to Be Quiet

Popular author and speaker Ken Blanchard sometimes tells a powerful story about Red, a corporate president who, as a young man, learned an important and life-changing lesson. Red had just graduated from college and was offered an opportunity to interview for a position with a firm in New York City. As the job involved moving his wife and small child from Texas to New York, he wanted to talk the decision over with someone before accepting it, but his father had died and Red did not feel he had anybody to turn to. On impulse, he telephoned an old friend of the family; someone his father had suggested he turn to if he ever needed good advice.

The friend said he would be happy to give Red advice about the job offer under the condition that the young man takes whatever advice he was given. "You might want to think about that for a couple of days before hearing my suggestion," he was told.

Two days later Red called the man back and said he was ready to listen to his counsel. "Go on to New York City and have the interview," the older man said. "But I want you to go up there in a very special way. I want you to go on a train and I want you to get a private compartment. Don't take anything to write with, anything to listen to or anything to read, and don't talk to anybody except to put in your order for dinner with the porter. When you get to New York call me and I will tell you what to do next."

Red followed the advice precisely. The trip took two days. As he had brought along nothing to do and kept entirely to himself, he quickly became bored. It soon dawned on him what was happening. He was being forced into quiet time. He could do nothing but think and meditate.

About three hours outside New York City he broke the rules and asked for a pencil and paper. Until the train stopped, he wrote – the culmination of all his meditation.

Red called the family friend from the train station. "I know what you wanted," he said. "You wanted me to think. And now I know what to do. I don't need anymore help."

"I didn't think you would, Red," came the reply. "Good luck."

Sorry, I don't know if he took the job or not. But Blanchard reports that, years later, Red headed a corporation in California. And he always made it a policy to take a couple of days to be alone. He went where there was no phone, no television, no distractions and no people. He went to be alone; to meditate and to listen.

The French writer and Nobel Prize winner André Gide reminds us to "be faithful to that which exists within yourself." But how can we be faithful when we don't really know what is inside?

The answer for me is to be quiet. To still my mind...and to listen. I'll soon know what to do.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Tijmen Gombert