As the third part in this series, it’s time to land the plane. What better way than through a story.
One day two neighbors got into a fight. It had been a long time coming.
The neighbor on the left was a man of great ambition. He was up before dawn and stuck to a strict schedule. He crushed it at work and loved to talk about his accomplishments. He mowed his grass religiously.
The neighbor on the right was lazy by comparison. Actually, that’s exactly why the neighbor on the left hated him so much. He never mowed his grass and only finally did mow it when the HOA threatened, for the third time, to fine him. When his neighbor, or anyone else, complained, he stiffened his neck and vowed to never mow it ever again.
You can see why they hated each other.
One day a storm came through the neighborhood that quickly turned into a tornado which touched down right in the center of their neighborhood and wiped out every house except those two houses, leaving their finely kept (and unkept) lawns virtually untouched.
As the storm subsided the two lucky neighbors came out the front door to see the wreckage. Their kids clung to their legs and their wives pressed tightly into their chests.
The neighbors looked at the demolished houses all around them, then at each other, before finally kissing their wives and kids and running into the wreckage to find survivors.
The left neighbor dug and heaved at fallen wood members and the right neighbor clawed away pieces of roof and doors and windows, yelling for any response.
Hours passed and the emergency teams arrived, but the neighbors continued until the sky was dark and their backs sore and hands bloody.
Finally the official in charge of the rescue operation stopped them in their path and asked them forcefully to go home and rest.
The left neighbor went home and looked at his house, seeing it as if for the first time: the clean lawn, the finely painted trim details and the pressure washed driveway. He turned slowly and looked at his neighbor’s house.
It looked strangely perfect against the backdrop of wreckage.
As he looked he made eye contact with his neighbor, and unlike normal, neither looked away, locked in each other’s gaze as if a plant was looking at a vacuum.
The left neighbor was first to break the silence. “Thanks for your help,” he said. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Of course,” right neighbor said. “Just think of all those families.”
“I know...”
“So what now, you know? Go back in and watch TV?”
The left neighbor looked at his watch. “It is almost midnight.”
“I had no idea.”
Before they went inside, the neighbors shook hands and even hugged, sniffling as they walked back to their homes.
Sure, they were usually enemies, but today, they were brothers.
This is what purpose will do.
Procrastination and punchlists nowhere to be found that night in the neighborhood.
Because the only way to absolute victory in the battle between Passion and Resistance is purpose.
That night, it didn’t matter who’s yard looked better.
It was close to a life-changing experience.