JOY OF ACCOMPLISHMENT

It is FREQUENTLY claimed that modern living is becoming increasingly hurried, harried – even frenzied – a picture of nervous tension and insecurity. In our world today, this insecurity is not an economic one. To some extent, of course, poverty and unemployment will always be with us; but it has never affected so small a fraction of the people. What then, is the cause of this frenzy?
Some wealthy sentimentalists, who glamorize the past without giving up their modern conveniences, blame the machine age for reducing workers to soulless cogs and for taking the joy of accomplishment out of labour. True enough; when a medieval cobbler made a pair of shoes with his unaided hands, they were entirely his won achievement. If he was a master of his craft, he could take pride in his work and rejoice in it, just as, according to the Bible, the Lord rejoiced after finishing the work of creation because “He saw that it was good.”
But this same cobbler had to work from dawn to dusk, just to keep body and soul together. Not only his shoemaking but the obtaining of raw material and the selling of his finished wares took long hours. And, as to his apprentices, they were unpaid, half starved, slaves. Nowadays, machines have eliminated most physical drudgery; transportation and communication are fast and easy: and division of labour increases efficiency. Within the writer’s won work experience the work week has been reduced from forty-eight hours to thirty-five or less – not counting the increased number of paid holidays and vacation time.
The only difficulty created by the concentration of work locations is the greater distance between home and factory office Aside from “rush hour traffic.” The frantic rush is directed more to places of entertainment them to serious pursuits.
Any compulsive action, be it drink, drugs, or just driving around at breakneck speed, indicates a lack, aching void, that is covered and dulled but needed healed by the misdirected passion. However, it seems doubtful that the dissatisfaction is due to the “soulless” monotony of industrial work. In the first place brain workers are just restless as manual workers, and in the second place one finds good, careful workers as sloppy ones even at conveyor belts. The good workers are usually the more contented ones, quite aside from their greater chance to be promoted.
Modern “capitalism” also offers indirect rewards Union workers can afford to feed, clothe, and house their families comfortably; to drive good cars and to send their children to institutes of higher learning. This too is an accomplishment worth rejoicing at.
Admittedly, a man’s soul may be starved in the midst of material comfort and drive him to seek satisfaction after working hours. From drink to drag races, from the building of one’s own summer cottage or speedboat to active sports, such are the activities lumped together as the frantic rush of our time. Frequently, these pursuits are neither frantic nor aimless. Proficiency in amateur sports or craftsmanship may be an accomplishment giving as much joy as professional excellence, and sometimes a successful hobby turns into a new and more congenial profession.
Those who recognize that their restlessness is not due to mere boredom but to an inner hungry may seeker knowledge instead of diversion The United State offers free libraries, evening classes, and extension courses to such seekers. An increasing number of workers, housewives, and oldsters are thus gaining access to the accumulated knowledge of the Age. Such studies bring various rewards. Some students look for increased earning capacity; others take pride in titles and diplomas; some seek knowledge for its own sake. Some of these true seekers may find that no amount of book knowledge appeases their inner hunger – just as the legendary Dr. Faustus confessed that his thorough mastery of all arts and sciences left him no wiser than before.
As you choose the way you will live this day, remember this. Accomplishment is truly a joy that's worth experiencing over and over again.

The joy of accomplishment is in the doing. There is nothing that can match the feeling of knowing that you are making a difference.

Working to get something done enables you to discover and develop your own unique strengths. It is a highly fulfilling way to spend your time.

Accomplishment never gets old or tiresome. For each accomplishment opens the door to a whole new level of exciting possibilities.

Right now, there are all kinds of things that can be done to add value to your world. Decide to be the person who will step forward to do them.

Though the outer rewards of accomplishment are many, accomplishment is also its own reward. Choose today to make the effort, to persist with purpose and commitment, and know the special joy that accomplishment brings.

Don't be afraid to give something for nothing

ONE DAY, at a great hospital, I watched a work of human devotion – doctors, nurses, and therapists lab technician to salvage the badly wounded of war. I was impressed. I must have had stars in my eyes when I met a neighbour and told him what I had seen.
He brought me down to earth fast. “Yes, but did you also look into the waste and incompetence there?” he demanded, “Why, you should hear some of the stories I’ve heard…..”
“Maybe I should, but now, if you don’t mind. I’m not an investigating commission, just a citizen who has seen something worthy of praise. Don’t I have the right to approve?”
“See here,” I accused him. “You act as though being enthusiastic is a sin or a crime.”
He smiled condescendingly. “Just don’t let it make a fool of you. Don’t be taken in. Remember, nothing’s as good as it seems.”
He spoke, I have since realized, not for himself but for our times. We are in the days of “yes, but,” the era of refusal to praise.
Great things are happening in every aspect of our lives; yet it is fashionable to minimize them. When you mention our shining achievements in science, someone will counter with, “Yes, but we’ve also developed the H-bomb.” Speak of what we have done in medicine and the retort is likely to be, “Yes, but you heard about the after-effects of the antibiotics?”
Something has gone sour only in America but elsewhere as well. We have lost the habit of the kind word. It is a state of mind which may well examine, not merely as a sign of national bad temper but of poor mental health.
How did we get to the point when we shun enthusiasm, distrust a normal pride? I believe it began in the 1920 when the dream of a world made safe for democracy was shattered. Out of the great disillusion came sordid skepticism. The word “debunk” was coined, became part of our language and thinking. With glee we dragged our heroes down smashing their toys. We asked about everything. “What’s wrong with the picture?”
There are imperfections in every picture. But there is often beauty and grandeur as well, which we have a right to admire without glancing furtively over our shoulders to make sure we’re not being taken in. For that is our dread – may we may be trapped by our own enthusiasms.
It is certainly true that time after time we have been taken in. Promoters have heaped their superlatives on much that is flashy and cheap: fads, ideas, personalities have been given such dazzling acclaim that often it is hard to tell true from false. And men we have trusted have proved to have feet of clay.
We do well to be cautious. But, having found what to us is admirable, why not have the courage to stay that it is? On the contrary, it seems popular to spread “the low-down,” the inside story about everything. That proves we’re in the know, a step ahead of the gullible who merely accept and admire.
I was speaking recently with a friend about a famous American who had been the head of an important educational institution.
“He was in a fog all the time he was there,” my friend said. “Never once knew the score.”
I didn’t agree. I told him one single thing which that man done, with-fanfare – a constructive achievement which had benefited all education.
He raised his eyebrows. “Come, come now. Has his publicity man been talking to you?”
Part of our population blindly accepts the propagandist’s picture of public figures – and another part just as blindly rejects.
A Swiss journalist who had reported world news in every country of Europe all through the 1950’s made a surprising observation to me. “I have met the heads of every government,” he said, “and have talked with all of them. I found each one entirely sincere, believing he was doing the best that the country could be done for his country.”
That isn’t the portrait at which we have become accustomed to look. The fumblings, the failures are held up to view, not the man-killing burdens, the grave decisions, and the straining sincerity. The man in the street – he who never had to make a big decision and therefore never had the chance to make a big mistake – plays grandstand quarterback to history. To him, no man in public life and authority remains a hero or even an honest tryer.
Then there’s Big Business. That too, gets its share of the sour grimaces. Is it cold, heartless, and impersonal? A small boy who wished to transport his dog on a train which had no baggage car thinks otherwise. His proudest possession is a railroad pass, written out for “Brownie” by a vice-president of the railroad.
And take that gross gross current slander against the whole human race, that no one does anything for anyone without an ulterior motive. A friend of mine befriended a stranger, an attractive, sensitive girl who was alone in the city and was in serious trouble. Her friendship consisted of standing by, feeding the girl now and then, seeing her frequently. The girl was grateful.
When her father finally came, she told him about her friend and was shocked at his answer. “Why did that do that? What does she expect to get out of it? No one ever does anything for you for nothing, you know.”
Few things are more rare than the man or woman who is wholly evil.
Every case of double-dealing and callousness can be matched by one, at least, of kindness and helpfulness. Is it naïve to mention them or to refuse to join the wailing chorus that calls the youth of today the “beat-up generation,” when it isn’t that at all?
“I wouldn’t exactly call myself. “I did my stint in the war like most of the guys. I came home; got married. We had our first baby when I got my job. We have since bought a nice house – not a mansion but it’s better one than my parents ever had. We’ve got two children, a car, and we figure we’re doing all right.”
Match him against the young woman whom I found with her head in her hands, whimpering. “It’s all so confused and hopeless. Your generation has left us a horrible mess.”
The last fifty years have not been altogether one of defeat and despair. There has been betterment. Our aged people enjoy the dignity of Social Security earned in their taxpaying lives. The right of each man to freedom from hunger has become part of our creed. Children no longer toil of factories and mines; their fathers work hours a week. Our schools and our health have improved; our homes are more comfortable.
True, criticism is healthy; but praise is even more so. Like the sun, it brings needed warmth in which we expand and grow. We begin to believe in ourselves because others believe in us and, as a consequence, we gain strength and faith.
Praise is the hand up the ladder. Without it we stumble and halt in half-achievements or defeat. It is the balm which takes off the rough edges of living and gives our existence grace and meaning.