I have been blessed with many things in my life, and I have been empowered with opportunities and help when I needed it, just as I have been lucky enough to receive challenge and adversity when I was sinking into complacency. I haven’t always appreciated especially this latter fact very much, and certainly never while it was going on, but the truth of it is… I know deep down how fortunate that makes me.
I could tell my story in one way and offer plenty of cause for sympathy and compassion. I could tell it in another and make myself a target of derision and contempt. Tell it in a third and I might inspire either pity or admiration in those who’d choose to listen. There is no point to this, save to say that we make ourselves heroes and villains as we need to in life. We all tell our own stories in the way that makes us appear as we need to be seen. Or at least, we try to. The world around us though may not agree. And so, the complications begin…
These past couple of days I feel that my life has been enriched. Little things have made big differences, and it’s been wonderful see the smiles on people’s faces and hear the excitement in their voices … all because of something I did. It’s a good feeling to be able to make others happy and cause positive ripples in their lives, and it’s a feeling that invariably inspires the wish to do more. To me that is a great accomplishment, not in me in particular but in anyone who puts themselves out there to empower and help others…
Still, it is the great irony of life that even in such moments … there are others who would take a different perspective, and protest the things I have neglected, ignored or perhaps postponed in order to do as I did. And they might be both accurate and entitled to their objections.
One story. Two perspectives. Unmet expectations.
I am no hero. I am no villain. And yet I am both.
It is a fragile self-image that insists so stubbornly on itself that it leaves no room to listen. But no more fragile than the one that listens too much.