Let’s talk about possibilities, shall we?
I started an exercise program this morning. Nothing super exciting. Just a half an hour every morning in the apartment complex’s small gym. A little bit of walking the treadmill, a few minutes on the cycle, and, when they set them up, some time with free weights.
The thing is, I’m a bit… well, not to put too fine a point on it… overweight. There, I said it. I’m fat. And I don’t want to be anymore. Fat, that is.
Part of the reason is, like many things in our lives, my past. The past influences many things in our lives, for better or worse. I’ve had my share of past events influencing my life for the worse, believe me. Now it’s time for the past to influence me in a positive way.
In the late 70’s, I joined the Army. (Yes, I’m really that old…) Now, it’s important to realize that I was not, in any shape or form, an athelete before I joined up. My idea of exercise was getting out of bed in the morning. Still is, until my new exercise routine takes root.
So, here I am, fresh off the bus, as they say, and nowhere near as “in shape” as many of my fellow trainees. And we’re off… for a mile long run. The only time that I had ever run a mile before was when the local bullies were running after me, and that was fueled by adrenaline and fear. So, I did the only thing I could think of to make it through the run. I asked the Drill Instructor to put me at the lead position of the formation.
Why? Because I’m one stubborn SOB, that’s why. The best way to get me to do something is to tell me I can’t do it. Then, I’ll do it, just to prove you wrong. So I knew that being at the front meant not only that I was leading, but that the thought of all those others behind me would motivate me to not quit, no matter what.
And it worked. I made it. Turns out that was good, because later I was part of a unit that began every day with a twenty mile run. Yes, that’s not a typo. A twenty mile run. Every day. And I even, sort of, enjoyed it.
If you would have told that pimply-faced 18 year old that, in less than a year, he would be running twenty miles a day, he would have thought you were crazy. He would have put that thought into the “no can do” category. He would have filed it under “can’t”.
But I could. I did. Not only twenty mile runs, but functioning in temperatures of 60 below zero, or in weather of 110 above, in full chemical gear, which is like wearing twenty raincoats at one time with a couple more draped over your head. Or, going 72 hours without sleeping. Or … or… or… all the other crazy things I did that I never thought I’d be able to do.
Part of the way my past has influenced me is that I never heard the word “can”. (Well, that’s probably an exaggeration, but… in principle, true.) I heard the word “can’t”. “You can’t do that.” “You can’t succeed.” “You can’t make something of yourself.” “Why can’t you be like…” Can’t. Can’t. Can’t.
I had a great deal of things filed under the category of “can’t.”
But, after my military basic training, I began training for a unit that was a little (OK, a lot..) above the “ordinary.” (No, it wasn’t the Seals. I was ARMY… being all I could be…) It took dedication. It took resolve. It took pride, intregrity, and guts. (I suppose that made me a “pig”?) It took determination. And even with those things, at least 50% of the people trying failed. Not failed because they couldn’t pass a test. They failed because they quit. They failed because they filed the experience under the “can’t” category.
I almost did that myself. I was full of “can’t’s”. And I almost “can'ted” myself out the door. But then a kind hearted instructor took me aside and said something that changed my life. It’s still changing my life. Maybe it can change yours.
He said, “Son, I hear you say “I can’t” too much. You end up doing it, but this “I can’t” attitude is going to be the death of you. Here’s a word of advice. KNOCK THE T OFF THE “CAN’T…”
Knock the T off the can’t? What does that spell? CAN
CAN.
I CAN run that hill. I CAN swim that river. I CAN make it 3 days without rest. I CAN find my way back from the woods using only a compass and a map. I CAN. I CAN. I CAN…
Fast forward about 30 years later. Here I am, a veteran with “Severe PTSD with Major Depressive Disorder.” Here I am, with a Tramautic Brain Injury. Here I am, with severe back and knee injuries that DO limit me. I have to set reminders on my phone for me to take a shower. To take pills. To write these blog posts. But I do it. I do it… because I CAN. I do it because I knocked the T off the CAN’T.
I have no idea what you may be going through at this point in your life. I have no idea what your past has been like. I have no idea how deep the pain of the past and the fear of the future runs in you. I have no idea.
But I DO have an idea. Here it is. KNOCK THE T OFF THE “CAN’T” (I bet you knew I was going to say that, right?)
Whatever circumstances you face that beg you to quit and whimper “I can’t”… whatever pains from your past threaten to pull you down into a deep, dark pit of despair… whatever fears of the future make you want to pull the shades and hide in your room… look those in the eyes, look YOURSELF in the eye… (Yes, that requires a mirror, unless you’re truly special…) and KNOCK THE T OFF THE “CAN’T”. Tell youself “I CAN.”
There’s a favorite line from a movie that I just love. It’s maybe a bit racist, but maybe not… in any case, I don’t intend a racist meaning by it. It’s a line uttered by Johnny Depp to Danny Trejo… “Are you a MexiCAN’T or a MexiCAN?” The question applies to all of us, regardless of whether or not our nationality ends with a CAN… what is the defining word of our lives? Am I an AmeriCAN or an AmeriCANT?
CAN’T?
Or CAN?
Knock the T off the “can’t”… and see how high you can soar.
Be blessed.
