I have never been to the Grand Canyon.
I’ve been in Arizona for almost four years now and soon will be leaving this beautiful state — I’m graduating! Hallelujah! — in just five short weeks.
One of the seven wonders of the natural world is half a day’s drive away, and I have yet to go.
It was never the right time. The first two years at school I didn’t have a car, and my road-trip options were severely and justifiably hampered.
As to the last two years: I had a paper due, or sleep to catch up on, or the weekend came and went too quickly, or plans to make with friends, or other fun trips to make or a myriad of prior commitments.
I do not want to be the person who wishes she had done this or that, and says wistfully, “I always wanted to [blank], but I never got around to it.”
What about you? What dreams and goals do you have? What’s stopping you?
There will never be a right time to study abroad. Or get another degree. Or travel to serve the poor, impoverished or imprisoned. Or get married. Or have kids. (And there’s no guarantee they’ll come when you want them, even if there were a perfect time). Or take that vacation. Or get out of that awful job.
Similarly, there will never be a good time to learn a new language. Or run a half-
marathon. Or learn a new instrument. Or read another book off of your endless summer reading list. Or serve others. Or learn [insert skill here]. Or change the world, or your community, or your friends. Or …
There will always be other things demanding your
attention, time and money. Other things you could do instead.
Let me ask you: Have you ever met anyone who regretted finally going skydiving or visiting a foreign country or re-learning an instrument he or she last played in high school or going on a mission trip?
Probably not.
A story from the East Coast involves a “Good Samaritan” who is not likely to regret taking action.
Rumors from The Charlotte Observer in North Carolina suggest that an unidentified group of individuals has taken the initiative to directly stimulate the local economy — in the form of anonymously given $10 bills.
The money arrives in a crisp white envelope with the “stimulus grant” and a letter attached inside: “We need your help and ask that you either spend the grant in the way you feel will best help stimulate the economy or give the grant to someone else you feel can best use it.”
It is unsigned and finishes, “Have a great day!”
I imagine this person will not regret the personal loss of the money, nor lament the time he or she spent making and delivering the envelopes, nor wish he had been watching television or browsing the Web instead.
Instead, I imagine he or she will likely be spurred to continue such laudable actions.
Let’s not settle for mediocrity or comfort. Let’s be persons of action and initiative.
I’ll start by camping on the rim of a big hole in the ground. How about you?
Andrea has never been to Boston in the fall. Points to you if you tell her what song that’s from at andrea.summers@asu.edu.
