"The Window" (Author unknown)
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One
man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour a day to drain the
fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window.
The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and
families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military
service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when
the man in the bed next to the window could sit up, he would pass the
time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside
the window.
The man in the other bed would live for those one-hour periods where
his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and
color of the outside world.
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake, the man had said.
Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model
boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every color of the
rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the
city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window
described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of
the the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by.
Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his
mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive
words. Unexpectedly, an alien thought entered his head: Why should he
have all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see
anything?
It didn't seem fair. As the thought fermented, the man felt ashamed
at first. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights,
his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to
brood and found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window
- - and that thought now controlled his life.
Late one night, as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the
window began to cough. He was choking on the fluid in his lungs. The
other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling man by the
window groped for the button to call for help. Listening from across
the room, he never moved, never pushed his own button which would have
brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes, the coughing
and choking stopped, along with the sound of breathing. Now, there
was only silence-deathly silence.
The following morning the day nurse arrived to bring water for their
baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window,
she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it away-no
works, no fuss. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the man asked if he
could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the
switch and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his
first look. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it all himself.
He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.
It faced a blank wall.
Moral of the story:
The pursuit of happiness is a matter of choice...it is a positive
attitude we consciously choose to express. It is not a gift that gets
delivered to our doorstep each morning, nor does it come through the
window. And I am certain that our circumstances are just a small part
of what makes us joyful. If we wait for them to get just right, we
will never find lasting joy.
The pursuit of happiness is an inward journey. Our minds are like
programs, awaiting the code that will determine behaviors; like bank
vaults awaiting our deposits. If we regularly deposit positive,
encouraging, and uplifting thoughts, if we continue to bite our lips
just before we begin to grumble and complain, if we shoot down that
seemingly harmless negative thought as it germinates, germinates, we
will find there is much to rejoice about.
----
adam@cs.caltech.edu
Think where man's glory most begins and ends,
and say my glory was I had such a friend.
-- William Butler Yeats