At my father’s funeral, I told the story of how he taught me to waterski and how it taught me how to reframe life’s challenges. If you ever hear me speak, I tell that story and call it “Grab the rope.”
Here it is in a nutshell:
When I was 8, dad wanted me to learn to waterski. So he put me on a boat and drove me five miles downriver from my grandparent’s cabin on Fort Loudon Lake near Knoxville, Tennessee. After several unsuccessful attempts at getting up, I finally did. When I did, dad turned the boat and slung me outside of the wake. He then turned in a tight circle so I was really flying. Then I hit a stick. I did several cartwheels and a ski whacked me in the head. Dad checked to make sure I was still alive and then made me grab the rope and try again. He wanted to make my story about getting back up, not falling down. Twenty-five years later, he made me get out and walk after my malignant melanoma surgery. He told me that he wanted to make sure my story was about “beating cancer,” not “having cancer.”
That is who my dad was. I’ve used that technique to reframe challenges over the years and try to find chances to learn and grow from life’s “bad moments.”
But there is one part of the story I’ve left out: It’s having the wisdom of knowing when to let go of the rope. If you’ve ever waterskied, you know what I’m talking about. It’s when you get pulled forward in front of your skis and find yourself just being drug face-first behind the boat. I drank so much of the Tennessee River that day that I grew gills. Eventually, I knew when it was time to let go. I think it saved me from drowning.
Letting go is a skill that I’m just now learning later in life. Look, I’ve had a VERY good career. But much of that career has been fueled by anxiety and fear — if you are in the media business, you’ll understand that. The stress has taken its toll over the years — it’s time to rethink how I do things. I’ve prayed for the wisdom to know when to grab the rope and when to let it go. This year has been a wonderfully creative year. I’m doing some of my best work. But I’m really working hard to enjoy all aspects of my life. That’s because your art is a reflection of you. And if you’re broke, your creativity will be, too.
If dad were here, he’d smile and say, “Now you understand.” I’d love to go waterskiing with him. And I’m sure he’d still be skiing if he were with us. He skied at 78, three years before he died. Dave Ramsey was truly an amazing man.