But, Could It Be Better?

Mitch Arnold • July 26, 2026

When facing challenging situations, my go-to response is often “it could be worse.” It’s raining: it could be worse. We could be scooping this stuff. It’s hot outside: it could be worse. At least we have air conditioning. The “it could be worse” response is a simple and common way of putting things into perspective, summoning at least a modicum of gratitude and showing the absurdity of petty complaining. Unfortunately, it can also blind us to the potential of “it could be better.”


I say it aloud frequently when I am with people, but I also mutter “it could be worse,” to myself when I am alone and struggling with my mobility.  That simple phrase has brought me peace and acceptance, as I have experienced progressive physical challenges throughout most of my entire adult life. While things could definitely be worse, and I’m right to summon gratitude when negativity creeps in, I was recently reminded that sometimes things could be better, and if that’s possible, I should do everything I can to make them better.


For more than 40 years, I have lifted weights five to six times per week, and that has allowed me to maintain a fairly active lifestyle, but lifting alone isn’t cutting it anymore. Despite frequent exercise, I have struggled to get around more than usual for the past year or so, and that has made my world even smaller. Despite this, I persisted with a positive attitude and told myself, “it could be worse.” Not until the discomfort and limitations began to prevent me from doing things I should be doing, like meeting friends for breakfast, did I consider the possibility that things could be better.


Making sure that I realized this was my wife Lynda who had been on me to try physical therapy, since my primary physician wrote a prescription for it a year and a half ago. I resisted because, though I am positive about almost everything else, I was pessimistic about what modern medicine could do for me. I had done physical therapy as a child, and have undergone several medical procedures that did little to improve my condition and seemed to provide only frustration. How was this going to be different?


But it was. After only two sessions and a daily regimen of stretching and purposeful movement over the past four weeks, plus the strength training, I have already improved my mobility. Stairs are easier and walking, less painful and troublesome. That has greatly helped my energy level, focus and confidence. Even when I fell and sprained my ankle a couple of days ago, the recovery was easier.


While things could definitely be better, they could also be much worse, as they were for me a month or so ago. Had I not relented and at least considered the possibility that things could be better, I would have continued being unnecessarily limited.


Are you unnecessarily limited? If you are going through a difficult period in your life – maybe your job or a relationship isn’t as fulfilling as it once was – consider the possibility that things could be better. Always lean into gratitude for what you have, but don’t let resignation obscure options for improvement.

Don’t Skimp on Experience

By Mitch Arnold • May 25, 2026
Recently, as occasionally happens when I watch the golfers on the course behind my home, I caught myself thinking about what it would be like to be out there again. Only this time, I also thought about the cost of golf, and began calculating how much I’ve saved by not golfing over the past 20-some years. Of course, I would rather golf than have the money I saved by not golfing, but due to a physical disability that increasingly limits my life, that isn’t an option. Thus, instead of fretting about something I can’t change, I comforted myself with math and tested my mastery of the positive explanatory style . With green fees, cart and the obligatory cold beverages, I estimated that each round would have cost me around $75. If I got out twice per month over five months of relatively nice Nebraska weather, I would golf approximately ten rounds per year, for a cost of $750. Multiply that by 20 years, and I’ve saved $15,000 or the cost of a pretty nice motorcycle. I used to ride motorcycles too, but haven’t been able to do that in more than 30 years. If I were still riding motorcycles, I figure that I would have probably had at least two during that time. Factoring in taxes, insurance and maintenance, I estimate that I’ve saved nearly $50,000 by not riding motorcycles for the past three decades. I also haven’t used a comb or paid for a haircut in nearly 30 years. However, unlike golf and motorcycles, that has nothing to do with my disability and everything to do with my genetics. Still, by avoiding monthly haircuts at $20 a pop, I’ve been able to save over $7000. I share this exercise with you not to try to talk you out of spending money on the things that bring you happiness, quite the opposite actually. You should absolutely do the things you love while you still can. In almost all cases, the money you spend on experiences is an investment in your life, and you owe it to yourself to get the most out of life that you can. Most of us, at some point in our lives, will lose the ability to do the things that once brought us happiness, and all that we will have left will be the memories. When that happens, we should cherish the memories of all that we have experienced, and look for other outlets to enhance our lives. Travel now fills the gaps once occupied by golf and motorcycles. With the help of my wife and some incredibly supportive friends, I’ve been able to visit some remarkable places like Charleston and Nashville, and enjoy unforgettable experiences, like a Green Bay Packers football game and the NCAA Final Four. Admittedly, travel gets a little more difficult each year, but that only increases my urgency to do more of it and enhances my gratitude of what I can still do, because I know that, some day, if I live long enough, I’ll be calculating the money I’m saving by not travelling. Television writer and producer Taylor Sheridan agrees, as you can see in this clip from the Paramount+ series, The Madison. https://www.youtube.com/shorts/tydIBHknM_s Don’t wait until everything is in order to invest in experiences. Accept the golf invitation. Buy the motorcycle. Take the trip. Prioritize making memories while you still can, because some day, those memories are going to be more valuable than whatever you have in the bank.

Looking Past Flying Frauds and Gym Goons

By Mitch Arnold • April 19, 2026
I’ve seen miracles occur at 30,000 feet, and have been told by many Southwest Airlines agents that it’s fairly common to see people use a wheelchair to get on the plane and then walk away with no problem when the plane lands. Though I’ve tried many times, I’ve yet to experience that miracle myself. Perhaps there is another explanation. Though I try to stay upbeat and positive, and to believe that most people are genuinely good, flying tests that effort. Too often, the people who pre-board with me and jockey for the best seats in the plane upfront don’t really need to be there, and are oblivious to the needs and challenges of those who do. Many are not above exaggerating their limitations, and some are even capable of faking a disability, as long as they are first on and first off the plane. Once, on a flight to Las Vegas, I saw a young woman make a big fuss about an injured ankle that was haphazardly wrapped and even ask for an extra seat to prop up her leg. It was easy for me to see because she was in the row in front of me, where it would have been much easier for me to get up after the flight. Later that afternoon, I saw her in Bellagio, walking with not even a limp, and I tried to lock eyes with her from my wheelchair. Though I didn’t say a thing, the recognition in her face told me that my message was delivered. Most people are far more gracious and generous than these flying frauds, but there is enough of the selfish behavior that Southwest noticed, and has tried to address by eliminating open seating. Unfortunately, that makes traveling more difficult for people like me. I still get to pre-board, but I now must stand and shuffle my way to an assigned seat farther toward the back of the plane. Almost always in our society, a very small percentage of people, like the flying frauds, cause problems that adversely affect everyone else. Unfortunately, their behavior tends to distract us from truly good people. I was reminded of that at the gym the other day. I typically exercise over the noon hour during the week, and I keep my routine intense but relatively brief. My goal is to do 32 sets of weight-training exercises, over eight different stations, in 32 to 35 minutes. That means that I’m constantly moving, and don’t have time to look at my phone. At that time of day, there are many other professionals also using their lunch hour to exercise, and they follow a similar schedule to maximize results in a compressed period of time, but there are exceptions. Some people will monopolize a piece of equipment for more than 30 minutes, checking their phones between each set, oblivious to anyone else who might want to use the equipment that they’re on. On this day, a guy that I have confronted in the past about this started on a machine as I was only two sets into my workout. I tried to be cordial and wait my turn, but nearly 30 minutes and 26 sets later, when I was done with all of my other stations, he was still there, looking at his phone. Even when I tried to speed him up by asking how much longer he would be, he didn’t budge. I left the gym angry that day, though every other person I encountered was smiling and kind. That’s not how I like to live, and I was disappointed in myself for letting negative emotions dominate my thoughts. I let a very minor irritation distract me from all that was good around me, and I focused on something I couldn’t control instead of appreciating all that I could.  There are always going to be people who get under our skin, if we let them. Our job is to look past them and direct our attention to the vast majority of people who are good. It’s a much more peaceful way to live. Unfortunately, we occasionally need flying frauds and gym goons to remind us of that.