Words Matter

Mitch Arnold • July 17, 2024

My five-year-old granddaughter knows the power of words, and she knows that it’s not polite to call other people names or to use her words to taunt them. She knows words can be hurtful and that, if misused, they can contribute to a hostile environment. Her convictions are so strong that she is an eager enforcer of niceness. If I slip up and say something as benign as “stupid,” she is quick to point out that “stupid isn’t a nice word.”


We all knew these things at some point. It’s Kindergarten 101 or in my granddaughter’s case, pre-school 101. Unfortunately, we tend to forget the basics, and we ignore the importance of being nice, as the outside world numbs us with vitriol.


The eye-opening and sobering assassination attempt on Donald Trump is an unfortunate byproduct of an increasingly hostile environment that we’ve come to accept as normal, and it should awaken those early childhood lessons.


It’s so easy to spit ugliness into the world that we often do it without thinking. It’s much more difficult to temper our emotions and be mindful of what type of energy we share. I know, because I’ve struggled with that myself.


Several years ago, when my business was struggling and I was upset with the policy decisions of our nation’s leadership, I took it upon myself to actively criticize everything I thought was wrong with the world, and social media gave me a platform to do so. If I saw a meme that captured my anger, I was quick to share it. If someone offered a viewpoint that I disagreed with, I went on the attack, even if I didn’t know them. As if there weren’t enough of them already, I even started a Facebook page on which I posted one-sided political messages daily.


While I might have felt some vindication with each post, I accomplished very little else with my efforts. I did manage to get myself unfriended by some and probably muted by others, while I doubt that I affected the friends who shared my political beliefs. Looking back, it all seemed an exercise in futility that contributed very little to constructive dialogue.


Thoughtful and balanced political commentary has its place, but the emphasis must be on thoughtful and balanced. If the message is I am right and you are wrong or even worse, my views are beyond reproach and you’re stupid for thinking the way that you do, there is no thought or balance involved, only divisiveness. As we saw with what happened to Trump in Pennsylvania, divisiveness is already a huge problem, and doesn’t need any help in growing.


Now, when I feel the urge to share my frustrations or vent my anger, I think about what kind of energy I’m contributing to the world. Is what I’m about to say going to brighten anyone’s day or encourage them to see the world in a better way or is it going to fan flames that are already raging? Am I considering perspectives that might differ from mine or am I asserting myself as infallible? Would I want someone with a different viewpoint stoking my anger with an unthoughtful and unbalanced message from the other side?



There is already plenty of negativity in the world, and that doesn’t benefit anyone, regardless of their political opinions. It seems to me that we would all be better off if we reverted to those timeless lessons we learned in early childhood, and remind ourselves that if what we’re about to say isn’t nice, maybe we shouldn’t say it at all.

Cherish Your Memories and Applaud the Success of Others

By Mitch Arnold • September 27, 2026
Recently, one of my friends completed a hike of the Appalachian Trail, 2198 miles of mountain paths from Georgia to Maine. He hiked almost continuously from March 31 to September 17, wearing the shoes of his son who passed away unexpectedly late last year. Not only is my friend an intensely driven and passionate individual, he is also a talented photographer who has crafted a career around his art. He used that talent to document his journey, capturing views that most eyes will never see and small wonders that most would miss. As I followed his adventures online, I felt wonder and awe, as well as gratitude that I could witness something that I will never see in person. Life is like that. Few of us will ever do everything we want to do, and we’ll watch from the sidelines as others enjoy something that we can only dream of. The trick is to do that without jealousy and envy, which are the thieves of gratitude and peace, and it’s something that I occasionally struggle with. Sometimes it seems that almost everywhere I look I am reminded of things beyond my reach. From my social media feeds to the walls in my house, reminders of dreams cut short threaten to haunt me, if I let them. With the help of some enthusiastic friends and the patience of an accommodating wife, I enjoyed several good years of pursuing my passion for hunting. Before my disability took that away from me, I was blessed to hunt in Africa and Canada, as well as many amazing places in the United States. The trophies that hang on my wall fill me with memories that I am thankful to have, but there are also blank spots that I had envisioned filling with more trophies. They remind me that I can no longer hunt like that. My social media feeds reinforce that frustration. Not only do I see friends enjoying their hunts and outfitters with whom I have hunted guiding smiling clients to their dreams, I am also a member of several online communities who share the same passion. There, I see trophy rooms that I dreamed of having and hunts I dreamed of experiencing. Where I once looked for inspiration and ideas, I now see a fantasy world. Then, there are the travel posts, like my friend’s trek on the Appalachian Trail. I see people standing on mountain tops, rafting on rivers and exploring the coastline of Greece – all things that I wish that I could do. Sadly, that world no longer exists for me, and that makes it all the more important that I be grateful for what I have and rejoice in the successes of others. I am learning to look past the blank spots on my walls and instead focus on the trophies that I am very fortunate to have. Why spend time and emotion on what I don’t have when I can appreciate all that I do have? Likewise, why waste energy on jealousy and envy when I can look with wonder and awe on the experiences of others?  No matter who you are, what you have and what you have been blessed to experience, there is someone who would like to walk in your shoes, if only occasionally, and they would be truly puzzled if you weren’t filled with gratitude. Just as important, experience as much of this life as you possibly can and share your experiences with others. Lastly, don’t torment yourself by worrying about things beyond your reach. Be thankful and rejoice in your life and the lives around you.

But, Could It Be Better?

By 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.