Monday / April 30 / 2012
There’s always a way out
My co-worker (and WonderTwin) John Marcantonio called an impromptu meeting in the sales suite last week. Like dutiful colleagues, we all traipsed our way in, not once asking, “why?!” (we never ask). Without saying a word, he played us the following 40-second commercial…
Our response (following the outbreak of laughter) was to comment on the commercial’s cleverness. Very clever indeed.
It got me thinking how we navigate through life’s toughest challenges and how there’s always a way out. The lesson goes deeper, however, when you consider how “the way out” is often nothing you could have fathomed (and I mean NOTHING!)
Put yourself in the fly’s shoes (assuming flies wear shoes, which of course they do not — but just go with me for a minute).
You’re out one day, enjoying the fresh air in the great outdoors when suddenly, like an ice cold bucket of water to the face, you get swallowed into a dark, dismal pit that literally brings you down. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t plan for this. And yet here you are.
How do you navigate your way out? IS there a way out? Imagine the fear, the confusion, the hopelessness. The overwhelming feeling of defeat. Is this it?
How often have you felt this way? I know I’ve had my fair share.
Granted, the fly probably needed to take a moment to feel sorry for himself and wallow in self-pity (I certainly would have — and I think that’s healthy). The real question when you’re in this situation is, will you choose to stay in a state of defeatism or will you persevere? The outcomes differ vastly.
In this scenario (our scenario), the fly chooses to persevere. I can imagine him in the bowels of the runner’s belly emphatically plotting, “Come hell or high water, I will find a way out of here.”
The truth is, we all know the fly has very little chance of escaping his situation, no matter how strongly he feels about trying or succeeding. But then again… what does he have to lose?
Granted, I’m guessing our fly had no idea how truly “crappy” the way out would be. But it also didn’t matter. Once he set his mind to reverse the horrible sentence he’d been handed, he learned he was more willing to battle a journey through the intestines of life than to just give up.
We’ll never fully understand the fly’s gruesome journey — just as no one will ever fully understand yours. But we can learn from one another and we can share in each other’s pains, joys, and journeys by engaging in raw, honest relationships. Let’s start there.
Who knew we’d find such a powerful Life Lesson from a tenacious, determined fly. Thank you, Mr. Fly (…or Miss).