Think Results NOW: You Are What You Think book 1 – #6: Wasted Life Needs You To Give It Meaning

You Are What You Think book 1

Article #6

My life is an Excellent Adventure from using “You Are What You Think”

Wasted Life Needs You To Give It Meaning

THIS IS THE story of a wasted life.

Maybe, I say maybe because, although the man died recently, it is possible the last chapter hasn’t been written yet.

SOMEONE READING this story might be instrumental in giving some meaning to a life which by his own admission was entirely without meaning or purpose.

His name was Al. His last name didn’t matter to anyone.

He had spent the greater part of his life in prison, and had completely lost contact with everyone from the outside world.

AL WAS ABOUT sixty, but looked much older. He was tall and thin, and slightly stooped over. His face was heavily lined and his teeth were crooked.

However, there was still evidence that he might have been quite handsome in his earlier days.

I first met him when he started attending the monthly classes I conduct at Folsom State Prison.

OCCASIONALLY I ASK the men what started them on the path that led to prison.

One would expect them to give as causes poverty, a poor early environment, being brought up in the ghetto, or by parents who drank, etc.

This isn’t the case. The majority of the convicts come up with essentially the same answer:

AT SOME POINT in their early youth there was a time that they desperately needed someone to whom they could turn for advice and understanding; someone who would listen to them

They turned to their parents, but their parents were too busy. When they turned elsewhere, it invariably turned out to be the wrong source.

On this occasion, I was surprised when Al stood up and expressed a desire to tell his story. He was usually very quiet, and had little to say.

“I’M NOT TRYING to kid anyone,” he began, “least of all myself. Perhaps I would have ended up in prison anyway.

“However, up to the time I was 12 years old, I hadn’t even given a thought to committing a crime.

“My father was a good man, but extremely ambitious. He made a lot of money and was always looking for ways to make more. As a consequence, he had little time to spend with me.

“IN FACT, WHENEVER I think about him, the first words that come to my mind are, “Some other time, son.”

“This particular summer,” Al continued, “he had been promising for many weeks to take me to my first big league ball game. Each time something came up at the last minute to prevent our going.

“This time, however, it looked like we were finally going to make it. We already had tickets for next day’s game, which was a Saturday.

“ALL WEEK I DAD dreamed that the mighty Babe Ruth was going to hit one of his famous home runs just for me.

“When my father came home from work that Friday night, I knew before he said a word that I was in for another disappointment.”

“I’m sorry, but a big deal has come up and I’ll have to attend to it tomorrow. We’ll have to make it some other time, son.”

AS THE GRIZZLED old veteran of many prisons came to this point in his story from the distant past, tears came to his eyes, and he was forced to pause. I glanced at the other convicts in the room and I could see from their reaction that many of them were remembering similar experiences from their childhood.

Al went on with his story: “I turned and walked out so my father wouldn’t see the tears. I hadn’t gone far when I ran into a group of older boys I knew slightly.

“THEY WERE ABOUT to steal a car and do some joy-riding.

“They asked me to join them and I agreed, feeling that nobody cared what I did, anyway.

“We got caught, and my father made things so bad at home that I ran away a short time later. I’ve been in and out of prisons, mostly in, ever since.

“I’VE OFTEN WONDERED,” concluded Al, “if the money my father made that day made up for all the suffering and heartache it caused so many people.”

Al asked if he could speak with me privately for a few minutes after the meeting.

“I don’t think I’m going to be around much longer,” he said. “My life has been entirely wasted and without meaning, and no one will care when I die, but I am going to ask a favor of you.

“SOME DAY YOU might get a chance to tell my story. If you do, it might cause a parent somewhere who is on the verge of saying “some other time, son” to stop. He might remember the story of old Al and the lost years and instead say, “sure, son, let’s go !”

Al died shortly after that, and I am keeping my promise.

Was his life in vain or did it have a purpose after all ?

IT ALL DEPENDS which four words you choose.