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Marginal

Rediscovering Purpose in the Margins

Marginal Book Cover
Marginal Book Cover

Introducing Marginal

By Mitch Arnold


He wasn’t where he thought he should be – hadn’t been, really, in nearly 20 years. A teacher, coach, father and husband, Kevin Million had tasted success in all of those facets of his life, yet he struggled with feelings of ineptitude, discontent and dissatisfaction. Baseball was supposed to be where he made his mark, yet, even though he coached a high school team to a state championship, the sport had left a stain on his soul.

 

Not until a used copy of The Purpose Driven Life landed on his nightstand did he learn that he was looking in the wrong places. The book would not only guide his search, because its previous owner shared his personal journey in the margins, it also provided him a test case – until the notes in the margin trickled to a stop.

 

Kevin had to know what happened to the man in the margins, and in doing so, he would learn about the man holding the book.

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By Mitch Arnold 22 Sep, 2024
Recently, I was blessed with the opportunity to discuss the topic of fairness with two older men who have suddenly come face-to-face life’s occasionally unfair nature. Both are in their mid seventies, and each is living a retirement that is not what he prepared for, imagined or seemingly deserved. Because both had worked hard and saved responsibly for their retirement, money isn’t an issue for them. Similarly, both had been physically active, exercised regularly and applied the same discipline to their bodies as they did to their retirement savings. One had even run several marathons! Unfortunately, those efforts didn’t prevent them from being stricken with neurological disorders that severely impact their mobility and ability to perform simple daily tasks. Neither did anything to induce their physical struggles. In fact, they did everything they could to enjoy physical health well into their later years; yet, that was taken from them. It’s like obeying the speed limit, but getting a ticket, when everyone else speeds past you. It just isn’t fair. Fairness is something we all expect, but don’t always get. Sure, a lucky break or two is welcome, but we don’t expect luck. We do expect fairness, and it stings when it is taken from us. Unfortunately, when this happens, there is little that we can do about it. When both of these guys retired, because their physical abilities far exceeded those of their peers, their initial retirement years went almost exactly like they had planned. They continued to travel, golf and exercise regularly, never envisioning what was about to happen. Why would they? They had sacrificed, and had earned the lifestyle that they were enjoying. As is my nature, after listening to their struggles, I tried to paint silver linings in the clouds that hung over their heads, and encouraged them to look at the bright side of things. Both told me that they admired how I was able to stay positive in the face of adversity, but that they weren’t there yet. They haven’t yet been able to give up on fairness. Living with significant physical challenges for more than 50 years has taught me that it’s futile to fret over fairness. Put simply, we don’t get to decide what we deserve. We can live perfect lives, follow all the rules and check off all the boxes of virtue, and bad things can still happen. What we do get to decide are our attitudes and how we approach our challenges when bad things happen. We also need to realize that the energy that we spend fretting over fairness is better directed toward improving our situations. The US Navy SEALs know this, and incorporate it into their training. In his New York Times bestseller, “Lone Survivor: The Eyewitness Account of Operation Redwing and the Lost Heroes of SEAL Team 10,” retired Navy SEAL Marcus Luttrell recounts an experience in his SEAL “Hell Week” when one of the trainers randomly selected a trainee and completely trashed the trainee’s quarters when he was out training. This poor trainee had experienced more than 20 straight hours of grueling physical tests, and another 20-plus hours awaited after a couple of hours of sleep. Instead of sleep that night, the trainee had to restore order to his room, though its trashed condition was no fault of his own, before inspection in just two short hours. Imagine the injustice he must have felt. A mentally weak person, under such extreme physical and mental exhaustion, and experiencing such extreme injustice, would have lashed out or simply collapsed. A SEAL can’t do that. If someone makes a terrible mistake on a mission or the enemy foils a near-perfect plan, a SEAL can’t spend time and mental resources being angry at the injustice and feeling sorry for himself. Doing so would get him, and likely others, killed.  Likewise, when things are tough for us, and we are angry because fairness has turned its back on us, we need to summon whatever mental toughness we have in order to resist the urge to feel sorry for ourselves. Only when we quit fretting over fairness can we focus on improving our situations.
By Mitch Arnold 27 Aug, 2024
There are 438 miles between Scottsbluff, NE and my house, and that number doesn’t change whether you take the interstate or a much more rural route on two-lane highways. My navigation system also told me that I would add approximately 47 minutes to my trip, if I stayed off the interstate, so I had a choice to make. Like most, I find rural travel much less stressful than interstate driving. Additionally, I knew that we would enjoy some beautiful scenery if we took the backroads home. Still, facing approximately seven hours behind the wheel on a Sunday, especially after not sleeping particularly well on Friday and Saturday, was daunting, and it was tempting to shorten the trip by sticking to the interstate. We often miss out on life’s simple pleasures, when we rush from one point to another. We speed through meal preparation to minimize our time in the kitchen, costing ourselves a chance to enjoy healthy creative cuisine. We rush through conversations with family and friends, prioritizing function over depth. We aimlessly scroll through our phones, forsaking the opportunity for quiet thought. When we subjugate where we’re at and what’s around us for the expediency of what’s next, we introduce unnecessary stress into our lives. That stress not only has harmful physical effects, it also blinds us to opportunities to savor the moment. Now in my mid-50s, I am much more aware of how the small choices I make in life affect the stress that I feel in life and how that affects those around me. Plus, I want to take a little extra time to savor life’s fleeting moments. Over the years, I’ve learned that time will pass, regardless of our efforts to control it. It’s up to us to use that time in a way that leaves us fulfilled and allows us to be at our best. To that point, it had been 13 years since I had been on those backroads. A little quick math told me that I was 41 back then, and if I wait another 13 years, I’ll be 67 before I touched Highway 2 in Nebraska’s Panhandle. Conversely, it’s hard to even imagine the number of hours I have spent driving on the interstate. In fact, I’ve spent more than 40 hours on interstates on three separate trips out west in just the past two months. While I’m thankful that I can cover 500 or more miles in just one day of driving, it seemed like it was time to actually enjoy some of those hours, so I steered onto Highway 26 and headed east to meet up with Highway 2. Had I chosen the interstate, I would have been surrounded by other vehicles for most of the trip. On this trip, however, there were times that I went 15 to 20 minutes without seeing another car. Rather than speeding down the interstate with white knuckles, while grumbling about orange construction cones and slow drivers in the fast lane, I felt like I was sitting in my recliner enjoying the scenery around me. Ironically, we left Scottsbluff in dense fog, so we didn’t see any of the amazing natural formations just east of town, and then it rained. In fact, it rained for much of the first three hours of the trip, and then intermittently as we neared Omaha. Obviously, that wasn’t how I imagined the trip would go. However, even those less-than-ideal conditions didn’t rattle my inner peace. Because the two-lane highway required less attention and evoked far less agitation than the interstate, I was able to enjoy deep conversations with my wife and adult son, who were along for the ride. Whereas I typically count down miles and minutes on a long interstate drive, I finished the trip relaxed and even took a short side trip through a neighborhood that my son had recently discovered and wanted to show me. When the pace of your life seems harried, and you feel stress creeping in, step back for a minute and consider how you can improve all of that with a simple change or two. While it’s not always possible to choose the less stressful option, when it is, you should always take the backroads home.
By Mitch Arnold 17 Jul, 2024
My five-year-old granddaughter knows the power of words, and she knows that it’s not polite to call other people names or to use her words to taunt them. She knows words can be hurtful and that, if misused, they can contribute to a hostile environment. Her convictions are so strong that she is an eager enforcer of niceness. If I slip up and say something as benign as “stupid,” she is quick to point out that “stupid isn’t a nice word.” We all knew these things at some point. It’s Kindergarten 101 or in my granddaughter’s case, pre-school 101. Unfortunately, we tend to forget the basics, and we ignore the importance of being nice, as the outside world numbs us with vitriol. The eye-opening and sobering assassination attempt on Donald Trump is an unfortunate byproduct of an increasingly hostile environment that we’ve come to accept as normal, and it should awaken those early childhood lessons. It’s so easy to spit ugliness into the world that we often do it without thinking. It’s much more difficult to temper our emotions and be mindful of what type of energy we share. I know, because I’ve struggled with that myself. Several years ago, when my business was struggling and I was upset with the policy decisions of our nation’s leadership, I took it upon myself to actively criticize everything I thought was wrong with the world, and social media gave me a platform to do so. If I saw a meme that captured my anger, I was quick to share it. If someone offered a viewpoint that I disagreed with, I went on the attack, even if I didn’t know them. As if there weren’t enough of them already, I even started a Facebook page on which I posted one-sided political messages daily. While I might have felt some vindication with each post, I accomplished very little else with my efforts. I did manage to get myself unfriended by some and probably muted by others, while I doubt that I affected the friends who shared my political beliefs. Looking back, it all seemed an exercise in futility that contributed very little to constructive dialogue. Thoughtful and balanced political commentary has its place, but the emphasis must be on thoughtful and balanced. If the message is I am right and you are wrong or even worse, my views are beyond reproach and you’re stupid for thinking the way that you do, there is no thought or balance involved, only divisiveness. As we saw with what happened to Trump in Pennsylvania, divisiveness is already a huge problem, and doesn’t need any help in growing. Now, when I feel the urge to share my frustrations or vent my anger, I think about what kind of energy I’m contributing to the world. Is what I’m about to say going to brighten anyone’s day or encourage them to see the world in a better way or is it going to fan flames that are already raging? Am I considering perspectives that might differ from mine or am I asserting myself as infallible? Would I want someone with a different viewpoint stoking my anger with an unthoughtful and unbalanced message from the other side?  There is already plenty of negativity in the world, and that doesn’t benefit anyone, regardless of their political opinions. It seems to me that we would all be better off if we reverted to those timeless lessons we learned in early childhood, and remind ourselves that if what we’re about to say isn’t nice, maybe we shouldn’t say it at all.
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