From Victory to Frustration in 3 Seconds

Count them the way we were taught. 1001…1002…1003. Three seconds. Not enough time to account for their importance, but a lot can happen in those simple three seconds. We quickly move from our victorious celebration to a frustrating mess. Let’s time it. It took just three seconds.

Of course, once the frustration sets in, it may take hours to get out of the dumps and move back into the victor’s circle. That is an option. Choose not to stay in the frustrating moment!

It began one night earlier this week—a rare whole night’s rest. I even slept 30 minutes past my normal up and at ’em time. That should have been the first clue. Things were going well, and hindsight only shows that must mean the other shoe was dropping soon. About 45 minutes into the morning, the bottom drops out, and where I was feeling good, I now have to think deeper of climbing back to “top of the morning, to you!”

It’s immaterial what happened. It was all me and no one else involved.

Well, maybe I can blame some overzealous puppies, or the rain made the chicken yard a gooey mess. Pitch an arm back to toss a rock for Gunny, and the eggs in the pocket shatter. Then Chewy wouldn’t get out of the way so I could dump the mess into the sink before dribbling shells and raw eggs across the floor. Move Chewy! Now, rinse out my clothes before tossing them into the washer. Oh. Wait. Gotta fold some clothes and move some from the washer.

Whoa! Hold ‘dem ponies! My morning wasn’t made for this!

Finally, grab my mind and bring it to the restful state it was in a couple or 15 minutes ago. It’s time to think through my day, plan my exit strategy, make a delivery, call a couple of folks, and get myself ready for a webinar for my book writing process.

I now understand why writers retreat so they can focus on just one thing. Writing.

Imagine Job For A Moment

We’ve studied Job ad nauseum. He, who was minding his own business, suddenly faced one round of bad news after another, and before the day is gone, he’s lost everything. Wait. There are still more shoes to drop! Next, he loses his health, thus his reputation, even his friends. Imagine someone who has bottomed out. Do you want to be around them? Their ill-fortune may rub off on you!

How did Job respond? After the bad news and before his health dilemma set it:

In all this Job did not sin nor charge God with wrong.
Job 1:22 NKJV

After his health issues and his wife encouraging him to “curse God, and die!” we ask, now, how will Job handle the challenge? What will you say now, Job?

But he said to her, “You speak as one of the foolish women speaks.
Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?”
In all this Job did not sin with his lips.
Job 2:10 NKJV

He faced the immediacy of loss and not one time is found to have blamed nor accused God, nor anyone else, much less himself. Count them. 1001, 1002, 1003... Not one time did he let his internal frustrations wipe him out of the competition of proving his trust in God!

What About Us?

We get so frustrated, and we let loose with both barrels! Flash! Scorch ’em! Burn, baby, burn! There! Calories burned! Cooldown period. This day is toast. Try again tomorrow.

I’m reminded of ABC’s Wide World of Sports show that came on sometime Saturday
back in the days of growing up. “The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.”
(Go ahead, click on the link and watch it on YouTube.)

But what if you don’t have time to put the moment off another day. It would be best to handle it, them, you, me, and us. Now. That’s why we must learn to control our frustrations. There’s no time like the present to handle what should not be put off another day because you lose your cool.

Count them. 1001, 1002, 1003. Maybe the key is to handle the Three Seconds a better way. Use those precious moments to collect yourself. Some may count to ten, but that may be too long. When we need to respond or react, the time is to manage it now!

I don’t blame the puppies, but they introduce a part of life we are not ready for. Chewy in the house and her pups upstairs in a room. Just three weeks old… Count them. 1001, 1002, 1003…1004, 1005, 1006, 1007, 1008. Yes. Eight beautiful replications of their parents. They are not to blame. Chewy was meant to be an inside dog. Not when she has nearly four fenced acres to menace and maintain. Clothes in the dryer? It’s not their fault. Washer? Again. Not their fault. No one is to blame. Life is blazingly fast right now, and we are doing the best we can! Add to that a vanishing head cold (no C-19). The tractor is going to maintenance a week early.

I mean, once you start a list, it seems never to end!

So. Backup. Manage. Corral. Don’t let a single second lose you to the flash o the moment. Count 1001,1002,1003 – breath deeply, regain your calm, and do what you know you need to do!

Before you lose control, consider your blessings. Count them one by one. 1001, 1002, 1003…1099!

It’s that simple!