In elementary school P.E. class, we did calisthenics. Spread out so that we were “double arms distance” from one another, fingertips just barely touching, we would do jumping jacks and toe touches. Everyone was told to spread out and make room for themselves. The object lesson at the age of 10 was that each of us needs enough room to do what is necessary. The assignment and it’s instruction continue to apply. Life has its demands. To be successful in life’s endeavors, we must stake our claim on the necessary space to get the job done. If you are 6 feet tall, how can you do jumping jacks in a space the size of a port o’ potty? Great and painful comedy skits have been done as homage to the foolhardy attempt to complete a task in a tiny space. I think of Inspector Clouseau. I also think of the timid, wallflower girl, who shrinks away from belting out the National Anthem because she simply too afraid to elbow her way forward to the microphone. Does she wait for someone to hand her the mic? Life occasionally affords such gracious courtesies, but usually, you cut your own path. Hitch a dream to the pack mule of self-assurance and you end up in paradise…a paradise of your own creation. There is no need for cut throat competition or back stabbing, the instructor said…spread out, double-arms distance. There is room for everyone….but no one can do your jumping jacks for you.