Perspective and a man named Jim

The idea that perspective is harder to come by or grasp while fighting your own battle is bullshit. 

Sure, it's easy for me to get caught up in my own little world--to forget temporarily that other people in this world, even people I know, would love to switch places with me. Easy to focus on negatives, to get lost in my "problems."

Thankfully, it's also easy to be slapped in the face with a dose of reality. 

I have it so god damn good. 

There's a man named Jim in Texas. He's a good friend of one of my brothers. I don't know him or his wife that well personally, but I know enough about them both to respect them greatly. 

I know enough about Jim to call him a seriously bad mofo. One of the toughest people I know. Miles tougher than I am. 

This is Jim

I know enough about him to call him a hero, and someone I look up to. 

He's been battling Leukemia for years, and is in Texas taking part in a clinical trial that will bring him back to health--but that's the least interesting thing about him. 

He's a Spartan. A great friend. Has two beautiful kids and a lovely wife. I've been the recipient of their generosity. My family has too, as I'm positive they attended one of the many events held for my Mother. They are positive, enthusiastic, tough in the face of challenges--and toughest in the face of the hill they're going to climb now.

I don't know him all that well, but I know all I need to. 

The man is strong, and he can't lose. 

I'm not trying to preach or be virtuous--which I'm certainly not. I'm talking to myself here too.

It isn't that you don't have problems, or that your problems aren't significant. You do, and they are. It just doesn't hurt, occasionally, to be reminded that someone out there doesn't have it as good as you do at the moment. 

And they are the one still smiling.

Go get em, man.