You’re walking down the street and find a $100 dollar bill on the sidewalk. Do you ask yourself “What did I do to deserve this?” What about when you receive a good diagnosis from your doctor?
I didn’t think so.
Why, then, do you do so when your car gets a flat en route to an important meeting or you wake up with sore throat?
Is misfortune to befall only the unjust? Are good people to go from success to success? Why must so many decent people walk miles for clean drinking water? Why is Donald Trump so successful?
The ability to rise above life’s vagaries – it’s thrills, disappointments, satisfactions and savage unfairnesses – affect every single one of us on a daily basis. A certain degree of calm is required to be effective, not to mention to remain sane. And calm isn’t possible if you don’t appreciate that truth we constantly remind our children: that life isn’t fair. If it was you’d be subsisting on tree bark like North Koreans or have a life expectancy of 46, as in Sierra Leone.
If it was, you wouldn’t have it so good.
Return to daviDDeeble.com or learn how a head injury instigated my transition from a conventional- to comedic juggler.
Well-raised individuals are instructed from an early age to say it. It can be heartfelt or empty ritual. But rarely do we think of saying “thank you” it as a form of self-expression, like an unbearable itch that has to be scratched. Not merely an obligation but a primal urge to convey one’s feelings.
We should recognize that “thank you” can be fraught with so much meaning from time to time. And such instances aren’t engendered only by surgeons who save our lives or soldiers who do our fighting.
This came to mind tonight as I popped into Starbucks to get one of their free Pick Of The Week apps for my young son, which are normally displayed next to the cream, sugar, napkins, etc. No sooner did I realized that none were on display that a barista called out to me from behind the counter.
“May I help you?” he said. I explained what I was looking for and he had one of his colleagues assist me (it turned out they didn’t have any at that time).
What impressed me wasn’t so much that he volunteered his assistance so much as his lack of hesitation. He was like the person who doesn’t wait to see how much someone struggles opening a door before lending assistance.
I returned to my son impressed with this barista but also feeling the need to express to him my gratitude for his proactive approach.
Sometimes thank you should represent more than a friendly way of saying “this conversation is over”. More, even, than “I’m grateful to you”. Sometimes “Thank you” should mean “There’s something I have to tell you”.
Thoughts or comments? Leave them in the section below.
Return to www.daviDDeeble.com or watch the kind of technical difficulty all entertainers welcome.
When I was 13-years old I won the International Jugglers Association’s junior championships. This was a big deal to me but meant nothing to the world outside of the juggling community. My parents, however, made sure that our local newspaper, the Long Beach Press-Telegram, new about it. They even made sure that my best friend and 2nd-place finisher Rick Coleman was mentioned as well as our mutual coach and friend, Randy Pryor.
For 44 years they’ve been doing things like that for me. The only thing I can say with absolute confidence is that I have caused them much more grief than they have caused me – and all they do is love me up.
Thank you, mom and dad. I am proud to call you my friends, not just my parents.
Bill and Norma Deeble where they met and have spent much of their lives together – on a golf course.