“Not complaining, “ was the sound bite today from my buddies working on the sewer and drains on the way to the beach. The weather has been phenomenal for outside jobs, particularly for these men standing and directing traffic.
How easy it is to complain about the weather; we do it all the time when it obstructs our plans—a picnic, a flight, driving just about anywhere, skiing or surfing. I’m not talking about natural disasters; I’m talking about what I want on a given day for my plans. And that makes sense; why not wish for just the right weather to support what we want to do?
But how can we get to a place were ‘not complaining’ becomes our mantra for whatever kind of weather appears? Or more to the point, how can we stop thinking about complaining as even a possibility. The weather is what it is.
Back to the men on the road. I confess, I got off on a tangent. These men were not even thinking of complaining. “Not complaining” was their way of expressing gratitude.
How easy it is to complain about the weather; we do it all the time when it obstructs our plans—a picnic, a flight, driving just about anywhere, skiing or surfing. I’m not talking about natural disasters; I’m talking about what I want on a given day for my plans. And that makes sense; why not wish for just the right weather to support what we want to do?
But how can we get to a place were ‘not complaining’ becomes our mantra for whatever kind of weather appears? Or more to the point, how can we stop thinking about complaining as even a possibility. The weather is what it is.
Back to the men on the road. I confess, I got off on a tangent. These men were not even thinking of complaining. “Not complaining” was their way of expressing gratitude.
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