Two men,
both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One
man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour
a day to drain the fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the
room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on
his back.
The men talked for hours
on end. They spoke of their wives
and families, their homes,
their jobs, their involvement in the military
service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when
the man in the bed next to the window could sit
up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the
things he could see outside the window.
The man
in the other bed would live for those one-hour periods
where his world would be broadened and enlivened
by all the activity and color of the outside
world. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake, the man had
said. Ducks and swans played on the water while
children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid
flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the
landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the
distance. As the man by the window described all this in
exquisite detail, the man on the other side of
the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque
scene.
One warm
afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing
by. Although the other man could not hear the
band, he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the
window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Unexpectedly, an alien thought entered his head: Why should hehave
all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to
see anything? It didn't seem fair. As the thought
fermented, the man felt ashamed at first. But as
the days passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy eroded
into resentment and soon turned him sour.
He began to brood and found
himself unable to sleep. He should be by that
window - and that thought now controlled his life.
Late one
night, as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the
window began to cough. He was choking on the
fluid in his lungs. The other
man watched in the dimly lit
room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button to
call for help. Listening from across the room, he never moved,
never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse
running. In less than five minutes, the coughing and
choking stopped, along with the sound of
breathing. Now, there was only silence--deathly
silence.
The
following morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their
baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window,
she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it
away--no words, no fuss. As soon as it seemed
appropriate, the man asked if he could be moved
next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch and
after making sure he was comfortable, she left him
alone.
Slowly,
painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take
his first look. Finally, he
would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to slowly
turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank
wall.
Moral of the
story:
The
pursuit of happiness is a matter of choice...it is a positive
attitude we consciously choose to express. It is not a gift that
gets delivered to our doorstep each morning, nor does it come
through the window. And I am certain that our circumstances are
just a small part of what makes us joyful. If we wait for them to
get just right, we will never find lasting joy.
The
pursuit of happiness is an inward journey. Our minds are
like programs, awaiting the
code that will determine behaviors; like bank vaults awaiting our
deposits. If we regularly deposit positive, encouraging, and
uplifting thoughts, if we continue to bite our
lips just before we begin to grumble and
complain, if we shoot down that seemingly harmless negative thought
as it germinates, we will find that there is much to rejoice
about.
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