It is a manic Monday once again. I am five minutes late for work [no excuse except that i am a mother of three school girls that need attending]. I have a thousand things to do today and another thousand more that could go wrong.
But allow me to figure out some semblance of a point here. And that is: i am not that special. Sure the world can be harsh, cruel and unforgiving; and life, ironic. But it does not mean that I should expect to be treated better, with more mercy than i deserve or with deference. I remember somebody accusing me of operating on a false sense of security. He was probably right. Then. Now, i know better. Of course i believe in the fundamental ideal that human beings must be accorded all the respect necessary to their sacredness as creations of God. But who says we are indispensable and immune to the occupational hazards of being human? In the great scheme of things, i am just a dinghy sailing valiantly in the vast ocean–subject to the whims of bad weather, indifference of the waves, twists of fate.
I think it helps to accept one’s misfortunes better by knowing where others’ are coming from and why. This is definitely a first important step, though there are countless unanswered questions out there that might take lifetimes to answer. As for me, I have found the secret of joy. Surprisingly, it is not as mysterious as it seems.