Chad Hymas tells about his experience and accident. More than that, he gives us nitty-gritty, real-world details on how to live life when bad things happen to good people. This is more than a book that is just inspirational. It is a book that will give you the power — and the how-to — to get things done in your own life. Watch this video as I walk through the book with you citing specific incidents from the book that Chad shared with you. You will be a better person because you read this book. Enjoy the video as we take a walk through “Doing What Must Be Done” by Chad Hymas.
So here are 10 of the most commonly highlighted, referenced or shared quotations from Chad’ book…
The most difficult thing is the decision to act; the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own
are never destroyed by circumstance. They live or die in your heart. My dreams come true not in spite of my circumstance but because of
give in to your deprivations. Live up to your expectations.
Freedom isn’t free. We believe freedom is our right, but it comes with a price. We may have to deal with despair, and
The miracles of our lives do not come about by grand events, but by the little things we have chosen to do… The biggest problems come about, because I avoid the little things too long… The difficult takes time; the impossible just takes a little longer.”
my life is not determined by what happens to me, but by how I respond to what happens. It is not about what life brings to me, but rather what I bring to life.
Thoughts are powerful. A change in our thinking changes our lives. Whether mystical or natural, one new thought can cause a chain reaction, creating new events and new outcomes. New thinking creates new assumptions. New assumptions create different feelings and attitudes. New attitudes create a new approach to old challenges. A new approach creates newcircumstances.
man is but the product of his thoughts… what he thinks, he becomes.
To regret the experience is to regret the lesson –
But spending too much time in regret denies us the opportunity of getting the most out of our experience – devastating though the experience may seem.
framing any decision we face by asking ourselves, ‘Will it bring me happiness?’
happiness is determined more by one’s state of mind than by external events.
The second, and more reliable, method is not to have what we want but rather to want and appreciate what we have.
If you maintain a feeling of compassion, loving kindness, then something automatically opens your inner door. Through that, you can communicate much more easily with other people. And that feeling of warmth creates a kind of openness. You’ll find that all human beings are just like you, so you’ll be able to relate to them more easily.
identify and cultivate positive mental states; identify and eliminate negative mental states.
Our feelings of contentment are strongly influenced by our tendency to compare.
In fact, whether we are feeling happy or unhappy at any given moment often has very little to do with our absolute conditions, but rather, it is a function of how we perceive our situation, how satisfied we are with what we have.
The Dalai Lama’s model of intimacy is based on a willingness to open ourselves to many others, to family, friends, and even strangers, forming genuine and deep bonds based on our common humanity.
‘Compassion can be roughly defined in terms of a state of mind that is nonviolent, nonharming, and nonaggressive. It is a mental attitude based on the wish for others to be free of their suffering and is associated with a sense of commitment, responsibility, and respect towards others.
You can relate to them because you are still a human being, within the human community. You share that bond. And that human bond is enough to give rise to a sense of worth, and dignity. That bond can become a source of consolation in the event that you lose everything else.’
Ambivalence over the name of the third season of the year reflects its status as a relatively new concept. As natural as it seems today, people haven’t always thought of the year in terms of four seasons.
Fifteen hundred years ago, the Anglo-Saxons marked the passage of time with just one season: winter, a concept considered equivalent to hardship or adversity that metaphorically represented the year in its entirety. For example, in the Old English epic poem “Beowulf,” the title character rescues a kingdom that had been terrorized by a monster for “12 winters.”
According to “Folk Taxonomies in Early English” (Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2003) byEarl R. Anderson, the importance of winter in marking the passage of time is evidenced by the constancy of its name over time and across many languages. “Winter” probably derives from a root word meaning “wet” that traces back more than 5,000 years.
Summer is also a time-honored concept, though perhaps never quite as weighty a one as winter, and this is evidenced by greater ambivalence over its name. In Old English, the word “gear” connoted the warmer part of the year. This word gave way to the Germanic “sumer,” which is related to the word for “half.” Eventually, speakers of Middle English (the language used from the 11th to 15th centuries) conceived of the year in terms of halves: “sumer,” the warm half, and “winter,” the cold half. This two-season frame of reference dominated Western thinking as late as the 18th century. [What Causes Earth’s Seasons?]
Incidentally, Chinese culture also had a two-season framework, but there, the major seasonal polarity was autumn (symbolizing adversity) and spring (symbolizing regeneration), with little importance given to the extremes of summer and winter.
In the West, the transitional seasons, being more trivial, were “not fully lexicalized in the language” until much later, Anderson wrote. Lexicalization is the realization of an idea in a single word.
In 12th- and 13th-century Middle English, spring was called “lent” or “lenten” (but this also meant the religious observance), and fall, when it was considered a season at all, was called “haerfest” (which also meant the act of taking in crops). In the 14th and 15th centuries, “lenten” gave way to a panoply of terms, including “spring,” “spryngyng tyme,” “ver” (Latin for “green”), “primetemps” (French for “new time”), as well as more complicated descriptive phrases. By the 17th century, “spring” had won out.
In terms of seasons, the period spanning the transition from summer to winter had the weakest credentials of all, and so it got lexicalized last. “Autumn,” a Latin word, first appears in English in the late 14th century, and gradually gained on “harvest.” In the 17th century, “fall” came into use, almost certainly as a poetic complement to “spring,” and it competed with the other terms.
Finally, in the 18th century, “harvest” had lost its seasonal meaning altogether, and “fall” and “autumn” emerged as the two accepted names for the third season. But by the 19th century, “fall” had become an “Americanism”: a word primarily used in the United States and one that was frowned upon by British lexicographers.
The persistence of two terms for the third season in the United States, while somewhat of a mystery, may have something to do with the spread of English to the American continent at the very epoch when “fall” began jockeying for position with “autumn”: the 17th century. At that time, both terms were adopted stateside, and the younger, more poetic “fall” gained the upper hand. Back in Britain, however, “autumn” won out. The continued acceptance of “autumn” in the United States may reflect the influence, or at least the proximity, of English culture and literature.
According to Slate, British lexicographers begrudgingly admit that the United States got the better end of the stick. In “The King’s English” (1908), H.W. Fowler wrote, “Fall is better on the merits thanautumn, in every way: it is short, Saxon (like the other three season names), picturesque; it reveals its derivation to every one who uses it, not to the scholar only, like autumn.”
By Natalie Wolchover | LiveScience.com