Yesterday, I drove to Augusta to take my dad to the doctor. He had some diagnostic tests done. Things don’t look so good for him but the jury is still out on that. On the way back home, I thought about the hour long stretch of interstate between my new home and Augusta. I’ve driven that stretch four times since arriving in GA only four days ago. My first thought was that I might come to hate that stretch because it looks like I’ll be driving it a lot. My second thought was that I might come to love that stretch because it’s a direct connection to my dad.
I realized in that drive how very important and powerful my thoughts are. My thoughts so often determine my experience. I can frame the drive from Lake Oconee to Augusta as a dreary pain, or I can frame it as a gift that allows me to connect with my father. I’m choosing the latter…at least for today.
I have these kinds of choices all day long, everyday. I reckon it’s the glass half empty, half full story. I get to choose, and my choice will determine much of my experience. I can’t make my dad well by changing my thoughts, but I can change how I move through the experience with him and the rest of my daily life.
