 |
|
|
Cross the Line
Have you ever watched a runner stop and decide to sit down a few hundred
yards from the finish line? Would you remember if you did? Or can you conjure marathon memories, Olympians staggering down the final
stretch, falling, struggling to their feet, stumbling, tumbling and willing their bodies upright to somehow finish despite
the anguish.
When was the last time you witnessed a racehorse drop out of the pack and
decide to search for grazing grass? Okay, so maybe those examples fall into the extreme category. Few of us
make the Olympics or gallop like champions. Did you catch the painter packing his brushes after donning half the house
with a coat of green? Does the carpenter hammer only two thirds of a nail?
How would you feel if your coiffeur decided to style the left but not the
right side of your mane? When did we begin to condone the notion that starting without finishing
makes the grade? It doesn’t. Looking around today, I’m a little worried. "It’s okay if young Johnny doesn’t finish his homework. He
had a tough day." "Don’t make her clean her room now. She’s tired and needs to
rest." "You can turn in your report next week. I know this quarter has been extra
stressful at the office." Gimme’ a break.
No, don’t—and that’s the point. Too many excuses out there. We expend more effort justifying our failures than mustering the oomph
to complete the task at hand. Too much whining.
Most of life’s defeats happen to people who don’t realise how
close they come to tasting success when they quit. If we could just try one more time, make one more call, give it one more
shot. When we forsake and renounce anything at the mid-point, we miss out in
two ways. First, no completion, no glory. Second, not as obvious, we abdicate the lesson. We spurn the chance to
learn the very piece we need to succeed next go around. The road to success runs through the land of failure.
To succeed quickly, double your failure rate, double the speed of your
learning curve, suck each lesson dry and plug yourself back into the game. No one crests any pinnacle without struggles. Nothing great comes easily. Nothing at all stems from surrendering in the middle of the battle—except
defeat and the nagging question that lingers in the aftermath: "What if I had kept on fighting?" That’s A View from the Ridge.
Author Ridgely Goldsborough publishes The Daily Column; humorous
and inspirational stories designed to touch our hearts. Please take a moment to subscribe at no charge at |
||
|
|
