Objects Are Closer Than They Appear

The wheelchair lift on my new van is narrow requiring precise positioning to load. I recently added a small rearview mirror to the chair that assists with backing onto the lift platform. The mirror is convexed. Along with the diminutive size the lift appears feet away then suddenly a collision.

A facsimile of problems I have failed to address in a timely manner. It’s impressive how the subconscious masquerades reality aiding our apprehension to face issues until they blow up in our face. Avoidance only creates mental stress and typically multiplies the severity of a dreaded outcome.

Confronting dilemmas as they arise eliminates damaging mental/physical stress, often reduces destruction, many times the conclusion is far better than what the imagination has manufactured and most important unlocks the shackles holding one from moving forward and living fully.

Forest Park Senior High was a large school consisting of four long corridors that housed tenth, eleventh and twelfth grades. Winter quarter my sophomore year I spent a sleepless night wondering what time my execution would occur, because earlier in the day a rumor reached its destination. Brock Stanton, an upper classman was going to kill me. Brock’s parents must have known he would grow into his name. When you imagine a person named Brock Stanton your mind doesn’t picture a pocket protector using dork does it? Yes, Brock was the typical handsome musclebound jock with a beautiful girlfriend. That beautiful girlfriend just happened to work after school with my Mom She would come up to me in the halls and talk. That exponentially inflated the self-esteem of a lowly tenth grader still learning the ropes, but the consequence was Mr. Stanton thought I was trying to make time with his girl. Two eleventh grade buddies took me to school the day of my termination. During the ride my buddies lamented they would hate to be me. Should have taken the bus. With my stomach in knots before lunch I decide to get this over with and find Brock in the cafeteria. There was an empty seat across from Mr. Olympia. Taking out a highly leveraged loan from the bank of courage I walked down the isle certain to soon meet my maker. Reaching the vacant chair I slammed the tray on the table sending delectable school cuisine flying and yelled LET’S GO BROCK! Maybe the element of surprise working in my favor, but the only result of the encounter was we became friends. Sadly we lost Brock last year.

Summon the courage to face problems, likely it will not be painless, but afford yourself the opportunity to live unshackled. Thanks so much for reading. Have a great day! dj