Life is Good - Words to Remember
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
I was driving down the road caught up in the hustle and bustle of life when my attention was suddenly drawn to the vehicle moving along in front of me—a big blue van. Written on the back in big fading white letters were three words. No, it wasn’t one of those obnoxious political bumper stickers that spews venom or promotes a personal agenda. The words were simple: “Life is Good.” Three words, one profound meaning, a reminder to make the best of what life brings my way.
I feel sorry for people—including some in the Northeast Kingdom—who walk through life and no matter what, find only the dark lining in every silver cloud. Some people, especially those who have lost a loved one, or who are suffering mental or physical pain, are certain to occasionally, and rightfully, have dark days. But I believe that some healthy people find comfort and solace in the gloom of pessimism and negativism.
Some people accuse me of naively looking at the world through rose-colored glasses, seeing only the good in life. However, I think it is one thing to work to improve the world, but it’s another to ignore all of the good. There is no doubt I have a bad day now and then, and I am far from a perfect person, and sometimes I find myself pitying the plight I find myself in at a particular time. For the most part, though, I believe in the power of positive thinking and the importance of finding the silver lining in every dark cloud of life.
To quote the words of baseball great Lou Gehrig, “I consider myself the luckiest man alive.” Gehrig made this statement in his famous speech that he gave at Yankee Stadium on July 4, 1939 as he left baseball to battle amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), a disease that claimed his life on June 2, 1941. ALS is now more commonly known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease. The following is Lou Gehrig’s speech.
Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about a bad break I got. Yet today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth. I have been in ballparks for 17 years and have never received anything but kindness and encouragement from you fans. Look at these grand men. Which of you wouldn’t consider it the highlight of his career just to associate with them for even one day?
Sure, I’m lucky. Who wouldn’t consider it an honor to have known Jacob Ruppert; also the builder of baseball’s greatest empire, Ed Barrow; to have spent six years with that wonderful little fellow, Miller Huggins; then to have spent the next nine years with that outstanding leader, that smart student of psychology— the best manager in baseball today, Joe McCarthy? Who wouldn’t feel honored to have roomed with such a grand guy as Bill Dickey?
Sure, I’m lucky. When the New York Giants, a team you would give your right arm to beat, and vice versa, sends you a gift— that’s something! When everybody down to the groundskeepers and those boys in white coats remember you with trophies—that’s something!
When you have a wonderful mother-in-law who takes sides with you in squabbles against her own daughter— that’s something! When you have a father and mother who work all their lives so that you can have an education and build your body— it’s a blessing! When you have a wife who has been a tower of strength and shown more courage than you dreamed existed— that’s the finest I know!
So I close in saying that I might have been given a bad break, but I have an awful lot to live for! Thank you.
Wow, that is optimism against even the toughest odds! If Lou Gehrig could face a dreaded disease such as ALS with such optimism, I guess I can face my relatively minor life’s challenges.
Maybe I am not the luckiest man alive, but I sure do feel lucky, not because my wallet is full of money or because I own riches, because I don’t have either. Seldom have I met anybody who has found true happiness in money or possessions. A number of ministers have told me while they comfort people in their final days and hours of life, not once have they ever heard any of them say, “I wish I had made more money during my life.” However, they have told me that some of them regretted not focusing enough time on their families. I have three great kids, and a wife who has not only put up with me for more than two decades, but who has supported me in my personal and professional life. We are a team through good times and bad. I am also blessed with a job as a writer that is amazingly fulfilling because of all the people I have the opportunity to meet. Living in the Northeast Kingdom is also a big bonus. Life is too short for me to worry about things I can’t control and it is certainly too short not to appreciate the people around me.
Although I am a very tolerant person in most cases, one thing I have little tolerance for is negativism. Negativism is like a contagious disease that, if left unchecked, can spread to all aspects of one’s life and to people they come into contact with. It’s a mindset that breeds failure, a self-fulfilling prophesy. Filled with unhappiness, these people often try to drag other people down into their world of doom and gloom.
When I do find myself sinking into the quagmire of negativism, one song that snaps me to is sung by Tim McGraw, “Live Like You Were Dying.” The song is about a man in his early 40s (about the same age as I am) who is diagnosed with a possible terminal disease. With the specter of death looming over him, the person that McGraw is singing about has time to reflect on his life and what he would do if he could live life all over again.
The following is an excerpt from the song:
I went sky diving
I went Rocky Mountain climbing
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named fumanchu
and I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter
and I gave forgiveness I’d been denying
and he said someday I hope you get the chance
to live like you were dying.
He said I was finally the husband
that most the time I wasn’t
and I became a friend a friend would like to have
and all the sudden going fishing
wasn’t such an imposition
and I went three times that year I lost my dad
well I finally read the good book
and I took a good long hard look
at what I’d do if I could do it all again
and then
I went sky diving
I went Rocky Mountain climbing
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named fumanchu
and I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter
and I gave forgiveness I’d been denying
and he said someday I hope you get the chance
to live like you were dying.
So when you are overcome with the little trials in life, remember the message on the back of that big blue van—“Life is Good.”
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