Marshall Ramsey

I’ve always admired motivational experts. They get up on a stage, do their pitch, sell a few books and retire back to their very motivating life.  I heard Yazoo City’s own Zig Ziglar in San Diego back in the 1990s. Wow. The guy was a m a z i n g .

But I’ve always wondered who motivates the motivational speakers?  What gets them out of bed? And then I start thinking about who and what motivates me.

I’ll admit, I’m the kind of guy who’ll move mountains for bosses who believe in me.  I’ve been fortunate that through most of my career I’ve had bosses who truly  believed in me and my talent.  Bob Witty, Glenda Winders, Dan Turner, Chris Eddings, Shawn McIntosh, Bill Hunsberger, David Petty, Ronnie Agnew and even David Hampton are just a few of the folks early on that made my work what it became.  That really makes me want to out of bed and get to work early. And stay late.

But what happens when that dries up? I can also tell you from experience when your boss and company DON’T believe in you, it rocks you to your core. You don’t believe in me — well, I don’t believe in you.  I’ve had it happen a few times over the past 20 years.  It sucks. Even when you know your work is making a difference, you struggle just putting one foot in front of the other. Well, you can use the community’s belief in you as a a motivator.  You can look at the fact that you still have a job and need to keep your house. You can even use anger as a motivator. But that’s like using sugar to give you energy. Eventually you burn out and break down.

This is 2011. If you’re looking for outside motivation, it’s like looking for agreement in Congress. My advice?

Go deep. Deep inside your heart.

Find what you love. Read the Parable of the Talents.  Make your work about a higher purpose. Do what you love and do it often.  Read books on motivation.  Learn from the masters. Your pride in your work will wake you up before the alarm.  It will make you make good choices.  What you once thought was work will dissolve into something you love like sugar in hot tea. Just remember, you have to learn how to motivate YOURSELF. Put what motivates you safely inside your heart.  Those who want to stop you can never get to it there.  It’s something I’ve learned the hard way.

A self-motivated person will never have to look for motivation again.  It’s always right where you need it. Deep inside you. Good luck and go deep.

It was a split-second decision. I was getting on the Trace: Right was work; left was somewhere more important.

I went left.

The woods were still dark, making the purple and gray sky more dramatic.  But I couldn’t look at it for very long. Driving on the Natchez Trace Parkway when it’s dark is like driving through a petting zoo at 50 mph.

I saw a flashing light ahead.  It was a cyclist — I’ve made that run many times in the morning.  Riding a bike quietly on the Trace along the Ross Barnett Reservoir is nothing short of spectacular. You hear your breath. The wind. The water lapping against the shore. The sound of a rusty 1973 Camaro  as a guy nearly runs you off the road.  I passed the cyclist with more than the required three feet to spare.  Been there pal.

My turn off was up ahead.  I pulled into the Overlook parking lot, pulled into a space and killed my car’s engine.  I grabbed my phone, walked partially down the grassy hill and stopped.  It was dead silent. I stood there, took a few deep breaths and scanned the horizon.  A rain shower toward Highway 43 made a dramatic scene off to the left.    The Reservoir’s water was dark gray. It looked like a giant slab of steel laid down between the trees. The trees, pines, whispered as the wind from the rain storm filtered south and announced that the rain would soon be there.

I thought about today.  My cold. My career. I thought about the people who don’t believe me.  My thoughts were as gray as the water in front of me.

Then it happened.   The sun began to rise.  The clouds turned pink, announcing the promise of another day. Another chance. A gift unwrapping before my very eyes.

I’ve tried to catch as many sunrises as I can since I was diagnosed with malignant melanoma in April of 2001.

I took a picture with my phone, got back into the car and headed to work. Honestly, I don’t know what my future brings. I might not have a future. But I do know that I was given a gift of one more day. One more sunrise.

Now it is up to me to make something of it.