Kim and I have
very dear friends, Dan and Jenny, who love the snow, especially Jenny. She sees the beauty in snowflakes. She delights in her children playing in the
snow, making snow angels, building snow forts, and sledding. And after their
time outside is over, when their cheeks are red as apples and their lips blue, there
is hot chocolate with marshmallows. Personally, I like snowflakes, but I’m willing
to skip over everything else and go right to the hot chocolate, minus the
marshmallows. Kim and I deserted
Wisconsin willingly and happily because neither of us likes the cold, the snow,
or the ice. We do, however, like hot
chocolate.
We have other
dear friends who moved back to Alaska.
They find delight in cross country skiing, moonlight walks, and hikes in
the woods, and they love that nature resides right outside their backdoor. Personally, I’d rather watch life in Alaska from
afar or read about that sort of life in a book or watch it unfold in a movie. I
would be willing to visit, perhaps take a vacation, but not much more than
that.
I believe it’s
all in one’s perception. But even deeper
than that. More than that.
I think our view
of the world, our view of events, and all that is within our world . . . all
that surrounds and all that is within the events of our world are colored by
our perceptions, our experiences, and our thoughts within those moments.
I come from a
very humble background of growing up in a large family. We lived on the river. It was quiet and peaceful and well, lethargic. Kind of boring, in retrospect. Kim grew up in a town that has a smaller population
than the school I’m principal of. Her
big getaway was when her family drove ten miles to “the city” which by many standards
is small. I like the hustle of the city,
of noise and crush of crowds, and the gray concrete and steel of a city
skyline. Kim wants nothing to do with
it.
Because of my
poor background, my heart wrenches when I see poverty, especially as that
poverty affects children and families. I
immediately empathize with them. I feel
their pain, their anguish. My stomach
hurts with their hunger. I’m anxious
over their worry, especially as parents try so very hard to provide for their
children. Like my dad and mom did for
us. I grew up in poverty. I experienced that life. I know it.
I feel it. It’s in my blood, my
heart and my soul.
You see, my eyes
are different from yours. We see life
differently, experience life differently, and feel life differently because our
experiences, while perhaps similar, aren’t the same. They can’t be, because what life presented me
with was different from what life presented you.
And even more
than that.
The way I
reacted to what was presented to me was perhaps different from the way you
reacted to what life presented you. And
that reaction was based upon my own . . . and your own . . . unique experiences
in life.
The Very Bottom Line?
Who are we to
judge others . . . each other? Who are we to question the reasons, the
reactions, the motives of one’s actions, each other’s actions? One’s words, each other’s words?
The Very Bottom
Line?
Viktor Frankl
wrote that “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is the power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our
freedom.”
The Very Bottom
Line?
“In our response
lies our growth and our freedom.”
As the Knight in
“Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” states, “Choose wisely!” Yes, we must choose wisely because the choice
we make sets in motion an everlasting ripple throughout time and space affecting
not only ourselves, but each other.
Something to think about . . .
Live Your Life,
and Make A Difference!
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Thank you for your comment. I welcome your thought. Joe