Craft Perspective to Achieve Inner Peace

Mitch Arnold • April 20, 2024

The winner of the 2024 Masters golf tournament, Scottie Scheffler, is dominating professional golf in a way not seen since Tiger Woods’ peak years. Including the Masters, he has won three of the last four tournaments, and has been 100 strokes better than the world’s second-ranked golfer over the last two years. What he said after his most recent win revealed his not-so-guarded secret.


"Because, like I said, winning this golf tournament does not change my identity. My identity is secure, and I cannot emphasize that enough." He continued, “"I believe that today's plans were already laid out many years ago, and I could do nothing to mess up those plans. I have been given a gift of this talent, and I use it for God's glory. That's pretty much it."


That strong sense of self was critical to his success, especially when he temporarily lost the lead in the first few holes on the tournament’s final day. Many of the world’s top golfers have collapsed when entering the final round of the Masters with the lead, the pressure and fear of losing throwing them off just enough to allow the elite competition behind them to surge ahead. That didn’t happen to Scheffler, because he had crafted his perspective to find inner peace.


Imagine if we approached life’s challenges with a similar mindset – “. . . today's plans were already laid out many years ago, and I could do nothing to mess up those plans.” Easier said than done, I know, but it’s worth trying.


Despite being more than 25 years his senior, I’m still working on achieving the constant inner peace that Scottie Scheffler seems to have, and I suspect that I’m not alone. We forget that we don’t control as much as we think we do or might want to control, and we let minor challenges derail our perspectives. We can avoid all of that if we carefully craft our perspectives.


The first step to doing that is to trust yourself, and the first step to trusting yourself is to prepare yourself for success. Scheffler didn’t just show up at Augusta and start swinging a club. He had spent thousands of hours over his 27 years preparing for big moments like the final round of the Masters. He knows that he has done everything he can to be as good as he possibly can. When he temporarily lost the lead, he knew that all he needed to do was trust himself and his preparation.


The second step to building a carefully crafted perspective is to accept that you can’t control everything. Scheffler knew that the accuracy of his shots would be affected by elements beyond his control, like wind gusts and bad bounces. He also knew that his fellow competitors were extremely talented, and had worked hard to put themselves in contention to win the tournament. Any one of them was capable of playing the round of their lives and overtaking him. He couldn’t control that.


The final and probably most important step in building a carefully crafted perspective is to have faith that a higher power is orchestrating everything for an ideal outcome that we might not understand, but will have to accept. Having faith like that frees us from the fear of failure. If failure happens, it doesn’t change who we are.



Scottie Scheffler showed us how to succeed by remaining calm under enormous pressure. If we want to have success and find inner peace in our own lives, it’s up to us to craft our perspectives in a similar way. If we do that, there’s no way we can lose.

Surviving a Collision with a Garbage Truck

By Mitch Arnold • June 29, 2025
I got hit by a garbage truck the other day, but was able to recover quickly, because it wasn’t the first time it happened, and it won’t be the last. It’s an unfortunate reality that everyone will occasionally run into a garbage truck through no fault of their own. (see ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck” below) One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly. So I asked, ‘Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!’ This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck.’ He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it! Sometimes they’ll dump it on you. Don’t take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don’t take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. The garbage truck in my latest collision was a prospect who I had never talked to, before picking up the phone and calling him about a position I was helping a client fill. Within seconds of introducing myself, his aggressive tone began to dominate. He demanded that I tell him who my client was and how much they were going to pay. I assured him that I would answer those questions once we determined that his background was a good fit and that he was interested in learning more. Finally, I offered to arrange a call at his convenience, when we could discuss the opportunity further. We never got to that point. After sending him some information on the opportunity, he repeated his earlier demands, this time through text messaging. In our exchange, I was able to determine that his background wasn’t a fit, so I thanked him for his time and asked if he could confidentially refer anyone. He responded by calling me a “god-awful recruiter.” I know that I’m a pretty good recruiter, and was fairly certain that he was a miserable person (garbage truck), but I held off on sharing those opinions with him. Instead, I just backed away, recalling “The Law of the Garbage Truck.” I wasn’t going to spend any more mental energy on him than I already had, and I surely wasn’t going to dump his garbage on someone else. Furthermore, I knew that my faith in humanity would soon be restored when I visited the gym over the lunch hour for my daily workout. Knowing that there are already too many garbage trucks wandering around out there, I try to be just the opposite, and the gym gives me a place to put that effort into practice. Because I appreciate friendly, positive people, I try to be one myself. I attempt to learn the names of the people I routinely see, like the front desk people, custodian and regular members, and I try to make connections with those who are receptive. And, I try to do that all with a smile, regardless of how I feel, even if I’m still stinging from a garbage truck collision. Per usual, the gym atmosphere didn’t disappoint. I exchanged pleasantries with people who expect me to be there at the same time almost every day, and enjoyed conversations that completely erased the garbage truck from my memory. Getting older has taught me that kindness pays dividends, and that even when it can’t save you from garbage truck collisions, it can certainly make them easier to recover from. Take the time to create a refuge of kindness that you can rely on when something like a garbage truck threatens to ruin your day. It’s worth the effort.

Acceptance vs. Resistance

By Mitch Arnold • May 28, 2025
I bought my first and only motorcycle in 1993. It probably wasn’t a good idea then, and it’s a much worse idea now, but that didn’t stop me from recently considering doing it again. I was only 23 years old and still in my invincible era, when I strapped on my helmet and rode off on my own two wheels for the first time. Understandably, a few naysayers shook their heads and voiced their opinions about me endangering a body that was already fraught with challenges; however, like I did often back then, I ignored their concerns, and was able to ride with no problems. To me, the motorcycle represented freedom. I loved being able to enjoy the open road. I even rode it on a thousand-plus mile round-trip journey to Sturgis for the annual motorcycle rally. Getting kind of smug, I began to envision myself as a life-long biker, but two years later, life intervened. I was moving half-way across the country and getting married, so the motorcycle had to go. In fact, I sold it to pay for an engagement ring, promising myself that I would buy another one when I was established and had the finances to do so. Things didn’t work out the way that I had planned. Fatherhood and home ownership ate up my finances and time, and a second motorcycle kept getting pushed down the line of priorities. Meanwhile, despite my best efforts, my body aged more quickly than I had hoped it would. For most of my life, my resistance to my physical limitations has enabled me to get the most out of imperfect body. Tell me that I couldn’t do something, and you could bet that I was going to try, if only to prove to myself that I could. That resistance allowed me to overcome significant challenges and to succeed when success didn’t seem likely. Lately though, as my limitations have grown and my sense of self-preservation has become stronger, I’ve been trending toward acceptance. Both acceptance and resistance are natural responses to change, and change happens to all of us, especially as we age. While resistance can challenge the status quo, sparking innovation and resilience, acceptance often opens the door to growth, fostering a sense of peace and adaptability. That’s where I’m at now, at least most of the time. Still, when my uncle told me that he was selling his motorcycle, those thoughts of acceptance were elbowed aside by thoughts of resistance. I began to rationalize motorcycle ownership and to imagine myself in the seat again, handlebars in my grip. I could now afford the bike of my dreams, and even had a spot in the garage to park it. I didn’t plan to ride it to Sturgis again, but I thought it would be fun to ride it to the gym and on quiet Sunday mornings, like I used to do. When I researched parking a motorcycle in a handicapped space, I should have realized the insanity of the idea, but resistance tamped down logic. My wife, to her credit, let me play those scenarios out in my head and gave me room to dream, knowing that logic would eventually prevail. And, it did. One slip-up on a bike, and I would suddenly and dramatically limit what I could do with the rest of my life. Accepting that reality was important, and I’m happy that I was able to do it. Being able to accept who I am – all of it, even the limitations – has given me peace and perspective. It’s not always easy to accept limitations and new realities, but it’s crucial if we want to live a life without regret, and I’m finally there.
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