A weekly blog about relationships, belief, and personal growth, written from a position of hope.
I had forgotten how much I loved the movie Hook, with Robin Williams as Peter Pan, until last weekend. There are countless takeaways, but the one that's on my mind this morning is the idea that Peter's happy thought was what allowed him to fly again, rediscover who he was, and overcome the obstacle before him.
As Lacie and I were driving to the airport, a thought occurred to me. Whenever I'm entering into a particularly hard day, I imagine the evening when I get home, the feeling of accomplishment. I visualize the unwinding, where I feel happy because of my efforts and what I've done. I think of the dinner we will eat, the conversations we will have, the long shower.
Airports can be treacherous, whether it's missed or delayed flights, tedious security checks, lost luggage, or a myriad of other woes. I realized my future visualization, my "happy place," in the short-term circumstance of getting past the airport challenges, was me sitting at my gate, calmly waiting, enjoying my first cup of coffee in the morning.
It sounds hokey, sure, but imagining the end in a positive sense revolutionizes how you approach the present challenges. It's not an excuse to be absent, daydreaming of the future, but a motivation to be totally present. Incentives, goals, why or who you're striving for--it matters.
With work, I imagine the award trip I'm shooting for: the sand in my toes on the first night we arrive, the smell of the salt in the air, the feeling of reaching my goals and knowing I've made those I care about proud. When I have a hard day, I feel the sand, I smell the air, I feel the future satisfaction.
As a believer in a future where Jesus makes all things right, I know there is an extreme visualization. A guaranteed one. The happiest of thoughts I can cling to when the going gets tough, where I find deep, eternal joy.
You haven't missed your calling
From where I sit in this hospital waiting room
Accept the invitation to live
The lighted window
It was worth it
The subtle sounds of a life together
Made for the now-what
When holidays are hard
Sharing in our suffering
To my doubting friend
Ten years down the road
How long, Lord?
A season of doubt