Stress Management and The Most Valuable Gift Of All

Stress Management and The Most Valuable Gift Of All

It has been a long week. At the beginning of this week, I felt like I was saturating from too much stress at work. I guess that’s one problem that that I need to find the cure to. I’ve not exactly been that good in handling stress. Most of the time when push comes to shove, I would freeze and find myself lost in thought and action. I guess my problem lies in the fact that when faced with a situation or a problem, I tend to focus too much on the problem itself, rather than looking through it for the solution. I keep having to remind myself of the good message that I picked up from the movie Patch Adams, when the genius professor who was admitted to the asylum for the mentally insane (probably for being too genius) showed Hunter Adams (played by Robin Williams) what the problem was with most people’s perception; when faced with a situation or problem, too often we are stuck without a solution, or maybe we take too much time to find a solution which could turn out to be simple, because our minds are too burdened by the problem at hand. This is something I need to change and work on.

Anyhow, while in my effort to distract myself from the loads of work and pressing datelines at the office, I took some time to look through some forwarded e-mails that I received and kept in my archive files. I came across the following story while I was at it. It serves as a good reminder to all of us that sometimes the most precious gift that we can give to our loved ones is the simplest of things. Our company and our time. Too often, we become too engrossed in the rat race that we are in that we forget the things that are more important to us than our work. Our loved ones.

Make sure you make the time for them. Leave the office early, or take a few days off work and make that long-postponed visit to your hometown to see your old folks. Believe me, the time you make for those you love is the most precious gift you can give them. Well, even J Lo says that her Love Don’t Cost a Thing…

It is kinda long, but worth the read. Hope you’ll enjoy the story.

Thanks For Your Time

A young man learns what's most important in life from the guy next door.

It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could
stop him.

Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.

"Jack, did you hear me?"

"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.

"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him.

"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.

"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said.

"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important...Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown.

Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.

The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time.

Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture....Jack stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.

"The box is gone," he said.

"What box? " Mom asked.

"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was the thing I value most,'" Jack said.

It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.

"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."

It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox.

"Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read.

Early the next day Jack retrieved the package.

The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention.

"Mr. Harold Belser" it read.

Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope.

Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.

"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter.

His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover.

Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold
Belser."

"The thing he valued most...was...my time."

Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days.

"Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.

"I need some time to spend with my son," he said.

"Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!"

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the
moments that take our breath away."

Have a great day and thank you for your time...