Marshall Ramsey

She had a picture of the Grand Canyon hanging over her desk.   It was huge, taking up most of her office wall. On a table beneath it were pictures of her family and a few other photos from her favorite places.  Important photos. But there was no doubt: The Grand Canyon was the dominant feature of her office.

It was a conversation starter. Co-workers would walk into the room and ask why she had such an odd picture hanging in her office.  She smiled and said that she had taken the photo on a family vacation a few years ago and that it was meaningful to her heart.  But what she didn’t mention was why it was so important to her.

The Grand Canyon is 277 miles long, up to 18 miles wide and attains a depth of over a mile.  It’s one of the wonders of the world which was carved by the rushing Colorado River over a span of nearly two-billion years.  It’s not an overnight success.

And neither was she.  Her path to success had taken time. Lots of time. With successes and many, many failures along the way. Her ambition was like the river, carving her destiny and encountering numerous obstacles.  But the force of her will couldn’t be stopped. It just flowed and created amazing things from the beginning to the end. She knew that still water just stagnated.  It was rushing rivers that created wonders.

The Grand Canyon was like her:  Time and effort had created something amazing. Every day she’d walk into her office, look at that amazing photo and remember that great things don’t happen overnight.

And then, she’d get to work creating her own wonder of the world: Her life.

Where the fog met his self-doubt, there was a counterclockwise swirl of hopelessness and gloom. He sat in his empty office building, looking out at the gray world.  Papers were strewn everywhere on his desk; it had the air of place where no one cared. He didn’t at the moment. The world had lost faith in him (or so he thought). And he was about to lose faith in the world.

It was a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. The world just didn’t need one more person who didn’t care. And he was at the tipping point of joining that undistinguished and depressing club.

But when he was about to be smothered by his own gloom, a single sunbeam broke through the low-lying clouds. Its warm rays illuminated his heart with hope. He knew what it was going to take to change: Action. Caring for others.  Things he could control. He watched the dense fog burn off and then got to work.

When others lose faith in you, it’s a problem. When you lose faith in yourself, it’s a tragedy.