I met a woman a few days ago whose picture may appear next to the word miserable in Webster’s dictionary. And if you don’t find her there, then you’ll definitely see her in booth thirteen of the swap-meet where they sell cheerless objects under overcast skies to embittered buyers.
And it was a privilege.
Yep, meeting martyrs and not-so-silent-sufferers is a privilege. They are such a wonderful reminder of who we don’t want to become in this very short gift of life.
How people choose to live their lives has always fascinated me. It’s one of the reasons I love to travel.
I’ve had the pleasure of meeting wine & cheese makers and surfers who happen to be neuro-surgeons.
I’ve formed friendships with Broadway performers, craft-beer brewery owners, lawyers, and photographers.
I’ve benefited from fascinating conversations with children’s book authors, professional chefs, cancer researchers, and aerospace engineers.
The roles we choose to play are darn near endless and filled with possibility. And just as intriguing as the myriad of characters we might choose from is how we choose to play them.
From optimistic go-getters and triumphant bad-asses to victims and miserable martyrs [so aggrieved by life that they are an occasional annoyance and very good lesson in ours], we set the tone and tenor of our lives.
Irrespective of how our story starts, we choose how it transpires.
Story arcs and subplots, hero or victim, we write these scenes and choose how we walk through them.
We script the narrative of our lives.