Overcomers are Focused People
Hey everyone!
I have had all these great ideas for blog posts, but there's so many of them that I'll have to s p r e a d them out.
Actually, since I started blogging more regularly, I tend to narrate my life as it happens in exactly the words I would want to write as a blog post. I think that is keeping me from blogging, though, because when I'm done narrating a certain situation to myself, I feel like I've already posted it for everyone to read.
Come on, I know I'm not the only person who does this.
Right?
Anyway, even if I were the only person, that would be ok. I'm used to be strange.
So this post came from a happenstance of a few days ago. Hannah and I were going a little crazy staying in our hut all day, so we decided to take a walk. After climbing up the hill to the Steck's house, and getting distracted from our walk, we ended up remembering that there was a keyboard in the Grade 9 and 10 building. Hannah was aching to play the piano, so we walked over there and she happily began playing away. I also really miss the piano, but I don't settle for such things as little half-length keyboards; it's just not right. I'll just wait until I can play a real piano. For me, it's worth the wait.
I had other things on my mind while she was playing, anyway. There was a closet in that room that was rumored to have violins in it, but the door was locked. I needed to get in the room to assess the condition of the violins so I could see if I could use them to teach a class, but no one had the key. Erick was supposed to have it, but he's in the States, and I don't know how to pick a lock.
It only took me a moment to decided what to do. I tried the doorknob to see how sturdy it was and looked up at how tall the wall was. The roof of that building is maybe thirty feet high, but the walls between classrooms are only about eight or nine feet tall, and there are no ceilings over the individual rooms. Without a second thought, I stepped on a bench, then the locked doorknob, climbed right over the wall, and jumped down into the room. There were lots of violins there, with cobwebs draped over them. I shuddered as I let myself out of the room and brought the cases out to inspect the violins.
A few violins were missing strings, and some had mold growing on them (like so many other things here), but four of them were playable.
It was worth the climb.
I have enough to teach a class. Nay Kaw Lweh will be happy.
He told me he wanted to learn violin "big big", which is the literal translation of their word for "very much". I told him I would teach him "big big".
This thought may not come out so brilliantly, but it occurred to me that I probably would not have had the energy to climb over the wall if there had not been something on the other side that I wanted.
I would not have thought I could do it; therefore I probably wouldn't have tried.
I would have thought about how high and impassible the wall was, instead of imagining how exciting it would be to climb over and let myself out from the inside.
As it was, I was so focused on achieving my goal that the obstacle ended up being more of a fun exercise than a problem.
Here's the core concept: if you have a goal you're set on, obstacles really aren't much of a problem anymore.
The only reason that obstacles become a problem must be because we aren't totally focused on achieving the goal.
Think about that.
I have had all these great ideas for blog posts, but there's so many of them that I'll have to s p r e a d them out.
Actually, since I started blogging more regularly, I tend to narrate my life as it happens in exactly the words I would want to write as a blog post. I think that is keeping me from blogging, though, because when I'm done narrating a certain situation to myself, I feel like I've already posted it for everyone to read.
Come on, I know I'm not the only person who does this.
Right?
Anyway, even if I were the only person, that would be ok. I'm used to be strange.
So this post came from a happenstance of a few days ago. Hannah and I were going a little crazy staying in our hut all day, so we decided to take a walk. After climbing up the hill to the Steck's house, and getting distracted from our walk, we ended up remembering that there was a keyboard in the Grade 9 and 10 building. Hannah was aching to play the piano, so we walked over there and she happily began playing away. I also really miss the piano, but I don't settle for such things as little half-length keyboards; it's just not right. I'll just wait until I can play a real piano. For me, it's worth the wait.
I had other things on my mind while she was playing, anyway. There was a closet in that room that was rumored to have violins in it, but the door was locked. I needed to get in the room to assess the condition of the violins so I could see if I could use them to teach a class, but no one had the key. Erick was supposed to have it, but he's in the States, and I don't know how to pick a lock.
It only took me a moment to decided what to do. I tried the doorknob to see how sturdy it was and looked up at how tall the wall was. The roof of that building is maybe thirty feet high, but the walls between classrooms are only about eight or nine feet tall, and there are no ceilings over the individual rooms. Without a second thought, I stepped on a bench, then the locked doorknob, climbed right over the wall, and jumped down into the room. There were lots of violins there, with cobwebs draped over them. I shuddered as I let myself out of the room and brought the cases out to inspect the violins.
A few violins were missing strings, and some had mold growing on them (like so many other things here), but four of them were playable.
It was worth the climb.
I have enough to teach a class. Nay Kaw Lweh will be happy.
He told me he wanted to learn violin "big big", which is the literal translation of their word for "very much". I told him I would teach him "big big".
This thought may not come out so brilliantly, but it occurred to me that I probably would not have had the energy to climb over the wall if there had not been something on the other side that I wanted.
I would not have thought I could do it; therefore I probably wouldn't have tried.
I would have thought about how high and impassible the wall was, instead of imagining how exciting it would be to climb over and let myself out from the inside.
As it was, I was so focused on achieving my goal that the obstacle ended up being more of a fun exercise than a problem.
Here's the core concept: if you have a goal you're set on, obstacles really aren't much of a problem anymore.
Therefore -
Think about that.
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