A Punch in the Gut
We’ve all gotten them. I got one last week but then I rebounded. Once I caught my breath, it turned out to be a punch in disguise.
Last week I got a punch in the gut about a work project. For my job I was preparing a half-hour presentation for a pension committee, trying to win their business. The head of the committee was a very influential doctor and I knew he had been impressed by a rival firm much bigger and fancier than we are. Minutes before my presentation was set to begin, I received the alarming news that he had been called away for an emergency surgery. Ugh! All that work I had put into this meeting, all the competitive intelligence I had gathered, all the head-to-head data I accumulated versus that rival firm—and he wasn’t going to hear one word of it.
As the meeting went on, I realized how big a loss this was. From the questions the other doctors asked, I could tell that they were not very familiar with my material. They were going to lean heavily on the committee head to make the final decision. Ugh, again.
After the meeting, I stared at my dark computer monitor. Bummer! Then I walked downstairs and told Joyce the bad news. I thought about it all night and it lingered in my gut until the morning.
The next day I emailed my contact at the medical group and asked if I could have ten minutes with the committee head.
No word for two days.
Then I got word that he would talk to me. And when we talked, we hit it off. After me summarizing what I thought the key issues were he said, “It’s like you just read my mind.” Yes! We’re off to a good start. Ten minutes led to fifteen, which led to an hour. I got a full hour, one on one, after all the other presentations, with the committee head. Needless to say, yesterday I got word that we won the case.
How often that happens! Something negative turns positive.
It doesn’t always happen—of course not. I’m not someone who believes that everything happens for a reason. Nor that there is a silver lining in every cloud. Sometimes bad news is just bad; it sucks; it’s the worst. To say otherwise, to me, is just shallow and disrespectful and patronizing to those who are truly suffering.
But sometimes there is a silver lining. Often there is. And for me, it’s often enough that I want to stop overreacting to bad news. I want to stop begrudging prayers God says ‘no’ to.
I want to stop stewing.
I want to stop ruminating.
I don’t want to go dark.
I don’t want to get angry.
I don’t want to Monday-morning-quarterback bad news to death.
I want to take bad news in stride. I love that word, ‘stride’! Stride…stretching those legs…relaxing as you walk…swinging those arms. And I love the phrase, “take it in stride.” That’s the person I want to be, walking with a light touch.
Keep walking, Ken...my monkey brain in full action here…come on, man, don’t lose your cool…keep moving forward…eyes up here!…light touch…you never know…stride, baby, take it in stride.
I think this is a worthy lifegoal. And for me, already six decades in, it will be a big change. And not easy. But I’m ready. I’ve still got a few years ahead of me and I don’t think it’s ever too late.
Because bad news will come. I’ll get plenty of it.
But so will good news. I’ll get plenty of that as well.
I just don’t want either to disrupt my stride too much.
Amen to that!