I've set my iPhone "lock screen" image to be that of Luke, looking at his mechanical right hand with his light saber gripped in the left. To the average person observing my phone ringing or my unlocking it, I will appear to be just some über geek Star Wars fan. For myself, the image represents something grander. A goal. An objective. A mindset and a way I want to look at everything I do at home, work, and in the world.
It need not be the "Star Wars" image. It could be Oskar Schindler watching the body of the girl in the red dress from Schindler's list, or Timothy Hutton and Donald Sutherland sitting on the back porch of their home in the final scene of Ordinary People. What the image represents to me is the decision point and retaining my conscious desire to be a specific type of person, and live to a specific set of ideals.
When I see this image of Luke looking at his hand, I am reminded that I have an opportunity, if not the incredible gift, of being able to choose my path. I am prone to some level of irritation on a daily basis. I am tested at home, at work, on my commute, in conversation with my wife, in my own internal dialog, to either stay focused on effecting a change for the better, or to going down a knee-jerk reactive path of being defensive or frustrated or annoyed. All by circumstances that my defensiveness, frustration or annoyance will do nothing to improve, and everything to exacerbate.
When I get delayed at a light and miss my train, when I get interrupted at work every time I start trying to recover from the last interruption, or when I find that all three of my hammers at home have been used and misplaced by my son, I can get red-faced, mutter profanity, storm about in a rage,... or I can take it in stride. Because it happens. Daily. To all of us.
Instead of being upset about missing a train I should enjoy the chance I have to take a moment and relax until the next one. Instead of being bothered by being in demand throughout a workday I should recognize that's part of my role. And instead of being bothered by my son's use of and loss of my hammers I should teach him responsibility while being thrilled that he has the interest to build, and more often then not, something he's building out of a desire to impress me and receive my approval.
I don't want to spend time being or teaching negativity. It's everywhere and easily fallen into. But when I step back and look at the path to the Dark Side, it's a far less rewarding and far more difficult path to walk than is the path of being positive, calm, and accepting of the things we have control over.