At some point during those pain-ridden weeks in the hospital, I realized that it didn’t matter “why” this happened. And “why me?” Asking those questions repeatedly was futile. I needed to heal and move on with my life. Being a “why baby” wasn’t helping.
During my rehabilitation, I met a man named Bob who was paralyzed in a car accident. He became so depressed that he shot himself. The suicide attempt didn’t kill him, but took away his sight. After he lost his vision, Bob’s attitude changed. He told me that despite my circumstances, I would survive and lead a great life.
Attitude is a position, not a mood. Having a good attitude means we operate from a position that everything will work out. Having a bad attitude means we tend to operate from a position where nothing works out. My mother reinforced this concept, telling me: “Just because you can’t stand up doesn’t mean you can’t stand out.”