It Couldn't Be Done

When most people say, "It can't be done," what they really mean is, "I don't know how to do it." In today's world of limitless possibilities, proclaiming, "It can't be done" generally puts one behind the eight-ball. Worse yet, when we settle for "It can't be done," we stop looking for answers.

This poem is for all of those out there who have survived the naysayers and made things happen:

Somebody said that it couldn’t be done,
But, he with a chuckle replied
That "maybe it couldn’t," but he would be one
Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.


Somebody scoffed: "Oh, you’ll never do that;
At least no one has done it";
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.


There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle it in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
That "couldn’t be done," and you’ll do it.
—Edgar Albert Guest, 1917

What was true in 1917 is even truer today!

While they were saying among themselves it cannot be done, it was done.
                                            —Helen Keller

When have you been told, "It couldn't be done" but you did it?