The Futility of Fretting Over Fairness

Mitch Arnold • September 22, 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.

Surviving a Collision with a Garbage Truck

By Mitch Arnold • June 29, 2025
I got hit by a garbage truck the other day, but was able to recover quickly, because it wasn’t the first time it happened, and it won’t be the last. It’s an unfortunate reality that everyone will occasionally run into a garbage truck through no fault of their own. (see ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck” below) One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly. So I asked, ‘Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!’ This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck.’ He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it! Sometimes they’ll dump it on you. Don’t take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don’t take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. The garbage truck in my latest collision was a prospect who I had never talked to, before picking up the phone and calling him about a position I was helping a client fill. Within seconds of introducing myself, his aggressive tone began to dominate. He demanded that I tell him who my client was and how much they were going to pay. I assured him that I would answer those questions once we determined that his background was a good fit and that he was interested in learning more. Finally, I offered to arrange a call at his convenience, when we could discuss the opportunity further. We never got to that point. After sending him some information on the opportunity, he repeated his earlier demands, this time through text messaging. In our exchange, I was able to determine that his background wasn’t a fit, so I thanked him for his time and asked if he could confidentially refer anyone. He responded by calling me a “god-awful recruiter.” I know that I’m a pretty good recruiter, and was fairly certain that he was a miserable person (garbage truck), but I held off on sharing those opinions with him. Instead, I just backed away, recalling “The Law of the Garbage Truck.” I wasn’t going to spend any more mental energy on him than I already had, and I surely wasn’t going to dump his garbage on someone else. Furthermore, I knew that my faith in humanity would soon be restored when I visited the gym over the lunch hour for my daily workout. Knowing that there are already too many garbage trucks wandering around out there, I try to be just the opposite, and the gym gives me a place to put that effort into practice. Because I appreciate friendly, positive people, I try to be one myself. I attempt to learn the names of the people I routinely see, like the front desk people, custodian and regular members, and I try to make connections with those who are receptive. And, I try to do that all with a smile, regardless of how I feel, even if I’m still stinging from a garbage truck collision. Per usual, the gym atmosphere didn’t disappoint. I exchanged pleasantries with people who expect me to be there at the same time almost every day, and enjoyed conversations that completely erased the garbage truck from my memory. Getting older has taught me that kindness pays dividends, and that even when it can’t save you from garbage truck collisions, it can certainly make them easier to recover from. Take the time to create a refuge of kindness that you can rely on when something like a garbage truck threatens to ruin your day. It’s worth the effort.

Acceptance vs. Resistance

By Mitch Arnold • May 28, 2025
I bought my first and only motorcycle in 1993. It probably wasn’t a good idea then, and it’s a much worse idea now, but that didn’t stop me from recently considering doing it again. I was only 23 years old and still in my invincible era, when I strapped on my helmet and rode off on my own two wheels for the first time. Understandably, a few naysayers shook their heads and voiced their opinions about me endangering a body that was already fraught with challenges; however, like I did often back then, I ignored their concerns, and was able to ride with no problems. To me, the motorcycle represented freedom. I loved being able to enjoy the open road. I even rode it on a thousand-plus mile round-trip journey to Sturgis for the annual motorcycle rally. Getting kind of smug, I began to envision myself as a life-long biker, but two years later, life intervened. I was moving half-way across the country and getting married, so the motorcycle had to go. In fact, I sold it to pay for an engagement ring, promising myself that I would buy another one when I was established and had the finances to do so. Things didn’t work out the way that I had planned. Fatherhood and home ownership ate up my finances and time, and a second motorcycle kept getting pushed down the line of priorities. Meanwhile, despite my best efforts, my body aged more quickly than I had hoped it would. For most of my life, my resistance to my physical limitations has enabled me to get the most out of imperfect body. Tell me that I couldn’t do something, and you could bet that I was going to try, if only to prove to myself that I could. That resistance allowed me to overcome significant challenges and to succeed when success didn’t seem likely. Lately though, as my limitations have grown and my sense of self-preservation has become stronger, I’ve been trending toward acceptance. Both acceptance and resistance are natural responses to change, and change happens to all of us, especially as we age. While resistance can challenge the status quo, sparking innovation and resilience, acceptance often opens the door to growth, fostering a sense of peace and adaptability. That’s where I’m at now, at least most of the time. Still, when my uncle told me that he was selling his motorcycle, those thoughts of acceptance were elbowed aside by thoughts of resistance. I began to rationalize motorcycle ownership and to imagine myself in the seat again, handlebars in my grip. I could now afford the bike of my dreams, and even had a spot in the garage to park it. I didn’t plan to ride it to Sturgis again, but I thought it would be fun to ride it to the gym and on quiet Sunday mornings, like I used to do. When I researched parking a motorcycle in a handicapped space, I should have realized the insanity of the idea, but resistance tamped down logic. My wife, to her credit, let me play those scenarios out in my head and gave me room to dream, knowing that logic would eventually prevail. And, it did. One slip-up on a bike, and I would suddenly and dramatically limit what I could do with the rest of my life. Accepting that reality was important, and I’m happy that I was able to do it. Being able to accept who I am – all of it, even the limitations – has given me peace and perspective. It’s not always easy to accept limitations and new realities, but it’s crucial if we want to live a life without regret, and I’m finally there.
More Posts