Skip to main content

Is Your Attitude Worth Catching?

In this episode, Is Your Attitude Worth Catching?

In the quiet of the house, where stillness runs deep,

With no cars on the street, not a honk or a peep.

A soft breeze was drifting, just outside my door,

While the wind chimes were singing their song as before.

I picked up a book, Ryan Holiday's Key,

And sitting right there, it occurred to me:

In this pocket of calm, as I started to read,

This stillness was something I desperately need.

If I’m completely honest, I’ve been wrestling with the noise lately. Some of that, I’ll admit, is self-inflicted—too much exposure to the 24-hour churn of headlines. But some of it has been closer to home.

A few weeks ago, I fell off my bike. Nothing major for the news, but it slowed me down, caused pain, and reminded me that recovery reduces your defenses. When your body’s off, patience follows.

And that’s when the noise gets louder.

We are surrounded by extreme polarization and a kind of cultural exhaustion that seems to hum in the background of everything. Recently, I noticed that just hearing certain political names mentioned in the news triggered a visceral flash of anger in me—the kind that shows up uninvited and, in the moment, feels completely justified.

And that’s the trap.

The 24-hour news cycle—where calm doesn’t trend, nuance is treated like a design flaw, and volume somehow passes for wisdom—has a way of slipping past your defenses. Before long, it’s not just informing you… It’s forming you.

That is the real challenge, isn’t it? Knowing the theory of a positive mindset is easy; holding onto it when your core values feel tested is something else entirely.

I’ve learned I can’t just think my way out of problems. My mind caused the storm; it doesn’t always help to solve it. When frustration hits, I change the channel physically—take a quiet walk, go for a cautious ride, read a Dr. Seuss book, or play a song on guitar—badly but with enthusiasm.

Because sometimes progress isn’t about brilliance—it’s about interruption.

That’s why I write this blog, read a lot, and record these podcasts. It's not because I have all the answers—but because I don’t. The skill of noticing isn’t something I’ve fully mastered; it’s a practice I keep coming back to. It’s my way of daily voting for a bit more clarity, more steadiness, and less noise.

There’s a reason Zig Ziglar talked about a regular “check-up from the neck up.” If attitude really does drive so much of how we experience life, ignoring it isn’t just careless—it’s costly.

It reminds me of a profound piece of wisdom most of us learned long before we ever picked up a book on Stoicism. In Horton Hears a Who!, Dr. Seuss wrote, “A person’s a person, no matter how small.”

Horton the Elephant chose kindness and compassion throughout his journey. He proved that anyone, big or small, can speak out for what is right. He didn't focus on the noise, the jungle's mockery, or the prevailing outrage; he focused on the inherent dignity of a voice others chose to ignore.

Lately, it feels like we’ve become experts at the opposite. We dig for flaws. We polish outrage. We hold up the loudest, angriest voices and call it the whole story.

But when I catch myself falling into that pattern, I have to deliberately pause and shift the lens. The good is still there. It always is. It just doesn’t announce itself with a breaking news banner.

When we choose to look for dignity, for effort, for the quiet good in people—just like Horton tuning in to that tiny, important voice—we take something important back. Not control of the world, perhaps. But control of how we meet it.

These are the questions I’m asking myself this week, and I invite you to sit with them too:

  1. Are the daily inputs I’m consuming feeding my anxiety, or fueling my growth?
  2. Am I spending my energy polishing outrage, or practicing compassion?
  3. If someone “caught” my attitude today, would it make them better?

To protect your stillness is not a quick trick,

It’s a day-after-day kind of habit to stick!

So watch what you carry, the mood that you pack,

Is it one you'd be happy if others caught back?

Let’s make sure it’s bright, like a wonderful song—

An attitude worth catching, and passing along!

I’m Patrick Ball. Stay curious, ask better questions. See you next time!

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Resurrecting the '90s Graphite

Let’s face it, there’s a certain danger in reading John Gierach's Trout Bum . His wit, self-deprecation, and sharp, effortless satire are entirely infectious. If you aren't careful, his words will inspire you to drop everything, wade into a freezing river, and try to outsmart a creature with a brain the size of a lentil. In my case, re-reading Gierach recently didn't send me straight to the river. It sent me digging through the dusty, spider-guarded corners of my garage. In the early 1990s, seeking a natural escape from Manhattan's concrete canyons, I decided to learn to cast a fly rod. I bought an Orvis Rocky Mountain —eight-and-a-half feet, three ounces, built for a five-weight line—and had absolutely no idea how to use it. To avoid aimlessly whipping the water like scrambling eggs, I took fly-fishing lessons from Al Cucci, co-author of Hatches , on the Delaware River. With his guidance, I fished renowned waters: the AuSable in New York and Michigan, and New Jersey...

A B+ Kind of Life

Welcome back to this week's On the Fly . Retirement has taught me something unexpected: life gets a lot more enjoyable when you stop chasing perfection. Lately, I've been having an absolute blast playing executive par-3 courses like Rancho Carlsbad . A short iron, a sunny morning, and nowhere to be except the next tee—that's my kind of day. This Thursday, though, I'm raising the stakes. I'm heading to The Links at Lakehouse in San Marcos, a full-size par-71 course with enough water hazards to keep the local fish well-stocked with my golf balls. After shooting a 64 on a par-3 course, I've set myself a new goal: shoot an 89 before my birthday next August. Why 89? Because on a par-71 course, that's bogey golf—one extra stroke per hole. For non-golfers, think of it this way: par is like earning 100% on a final exam. Bogey golf is a solid B+. You got the job done, learned something, and probably had a lot more fun getting there. The older I get, the more I appre...

From Mailbox to Microphone

In this episode, catching up with Sierra . What happens when you combine a little imagination, modern digital tools, and the willingness to make a glorious, muddy mess? You get our guest’s latest project. I’m Patrick Ball. Welcome back to On the Fly . Today, we are diving into the world of native plants and guerrilla gardening with twelve-year-old creator Sierra. After watching her impressive, self-produced tutorial on how to make ‘Seed Balls,’ I had to know how she did it. It’s incredibly inspiring to watch Sierra evolve from a young artist wielding crayons and stationery into a savvy digital creator. She’s writing scripts, mastering voiceovers, and editing—all to make a positive, green impact on her local community. “She shoots, she scores, and she’s here to tell us all about it.” Please welcome Sierra to On the Fly ! Let’s get into it. Audio interview . . . For more blog posts showcasing Sierra’s talents, see: The Mailbox Surprise . . . and The Summer Surprise I’m Patrick Ball. Sta...

The Birth of a Cubs Legend

In this episode, The 162-Game Exhale — and the Birth of a Cubs Legend There’s a hush in the baseball world on Game 162 — a collective breath drawn in and slowly released. Scoreboards stop flipping. Dugouts empty. For six months, the game has been our steady heartbeat, pulsing from the cherry blossoms of Tokyo in March to the crisp, playoff-charged winds of late September. And now, as the regular season exhales, baseball fans everywhere pause to absorb the story we’ve just lived. For me, that story has been deeply personal. This season unfolded in the rhythms of my daily life. It was the summer soundtrack echoing beneath the constant turmoil of politics and sensational headlines. It was a handful of carefully chosen ballpark pilgrimages stitched together with countless nights in front of MLB.TV. And at the center of it all, for a lifelong Cubs fan like me, it revolved around one name — a young center fielder who turned hope into history: Pete Crow-Armstrong. The 2025 season didn’t begin...