Recently an old friend came to dinner. As she talked about her life I came to this realization: life, no matter where you are in it, is hard.
Whether you are older and wiser or young and reckless, people are hard to love, friends are hard to keep, biting back retorts a challenge.
There’s always a road block, always a speed bump. Money, love, distance, self esteem, everything is a crossroad.
I’ve also realized that there will always be people telling me, “Yeah well think about all those other people suffering, by comparison you’re living easy.” I am one of those people telling others this. I am a person telling myself this. Yet that doesn’t take the sting off of living.
People telling you to stop complaining is much like rubbing salt in a wound, but then again this world complains so incredibly much. I have a family of wasps living in my head constantly reminding me of my complaints, all the negatives I see in the world and others.
Admittedly I am probably more judgmental than I ought to be, maybe a little too cynical, a little too sarcastic, a little too snarky, a little too mocking. Still it’s hard, to be around people who constantly complain, only see issue and always seem to have an issue, or relate everything back to them.
And the worst part is that person is me. Or am I brave enough to step out into the world and proclaim that I am any different than the person standing next to me? That somehow I have defied human nature while they haven’t?
No I am not, because I am not different. The person next to me is having the exact same thoughts, “I am different aren’t I, I can do what I want, because something I can’t quite put my finger on makes me better than the person standing next to me.”
It’s the human survival drive and by extension competitiveness. It’s the need to outlast everyone else, it’s the dopamine release you get when you’re right.
I am no different, life is a crossroad.
I am constantly at a roadblock, a crossroads and I for the life of me can’t figure out how to handle it with grace.