Have you ever seen an anthill? Ever wonder why they build hills? Me neither, until now.

Apparently, the hills aren’t built for a purpose; they’re a byproduct of a mission. The ants are digging subterranean tunnels and the dirt that makes up the hills is carried out and deposited at the entrance forming a mound that resembles the opening of a volcano.

I’m guessing that you’ve seen people step on those hills in an effort to destroy them and get rid of the ants. Ever wonder what goes through an ant’s mind when what they’ve created gets trashed and scattered? Nothing! They just go to work, and dig another tunnel, and make another hill.

Have any of your hills been destroyed? I’ve had many of mine stomped on and swept away – too many to count. But unlike the ant, I would sit and brood with “woe is me” thoughts coloring my mood. But somewhere in the back of my mind was an old Sinatra song called “High Hopes.“ Here are some of the lyrics:

Next time you’re found, with your chin on the ground

There a lot to be learned, so look around

Just what makes that little old ant

Think he’ll move that rubber tree plant

Anyone knows an ant, can’t

Move a rubber tree plant

But he’s got high hopes, he’s got high hopes

He’s got high apple pie, in the sky hopes

So any time you’re gettin’ low

‘stead of lettin’ go

Just remember that ant

Oops, there goes another rubber tree plant

What I’ve come to learn is the longer you lament, the longer you delay progress. Yes, it’s human conditioning to experience disappointment and frustration when our hill is flattened. But the quicker we move out of that mindset, the sooner we’re on to building our next hill.

We can all learn a lesson from that little old ant: When we keep our brooding to a minimum, we minimize the delay of creating a brand new day.

All the best,

John

Listen to the recorded version.