I wrote the following as a guest blogger for a friend back in early April. I'm feeling lazy (and may be getting sick) so I'm just going to copy and paste it.
Love,
Janel
I'm an A-type, firstborn female, and sometimes I overreact. I've always had a tend to dress up my bad situations with a little dramatic flair. Throughout my few years of life, I have started to realize I shouldn't react quite so violently... things could always get worse.
When I was four years old, I was in acrobatics class. The only thing I remember from this portion of my pre-elementary days is standing in line to do a somersault. I pushed the other little kids as we stood in line at acrobatics class; my mom told me if I continued to push them, even when provoked (which I was, sorely!), I couldn't go to acrobatics anymore. Needless to say, they shoved me and I pushed them back.
My mother kept her word and delivered the punishment for breaking the ultimatum: my days as a four-year old prodigy acrobatic star were done. Irrevocably. I responded in turn: "This is the worst day of my life!"
This was a very true statement. I had lived less than 1,500 days. In those 1,500 days, the only similarly negative event had been the birth of Shaun, the younger rival for my parents' attention. And being expelled from acrobatics was MUCH worse than getting a new playmate slash competition in the form of a brother.
In the following years, there have been successive "worst days." High school breakups, Carolina's 8-20 basketball season, a horribly painful college breakup, 2 friends' deaths... all rank way above seeing the last day of my acrobatics career, and each in turn were the "worst day of my life."
Today I got back from San Antonio after seeing my beloved Tar Heels collapse under the pressure of the Final Four and just hand the win to Kansas. It felt like a "worst day." But after Jason's death only a year ago and Eve's death just a month ago, I'm able to see a little bit more clearly why this wasn't the worst day of my life (so far).
The Heels will take the court again. They'll lose again. I will feel dead inside for a short period; Roy will tear up again; the team may embarrass themselves again. But we'll cut down other nets; Adam Lucas will write an article that pretty much sums up the whole Tar Heel Nation's ecstasy; Carolina will be #1 again. And to think-- I got to go to the Final Four! I stayed in the team hotel, met Alex Stepheson's father, ate lunch across from Mr Hansbrough, and rode the elevator with Coach Williams's wife.
The ending of "Spamalot" features the whole company singing, "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life." During the first rendition of the song, Patsy and King Arthur are lost in a dark and very expensive forest. After my few years of experience and watching my basketball team lose miserably and inexplicably, I agree with their summation of things: "Life's a piece of shit, when you look at it/Life's a laugh and death's a joke it's true/You'll see it's all a show-- keep 'em laughing as you go/Just remember that the last laugh is on you."
So... that is my charge to you. It may sound negative, but try to remember-- it could always be worse! (... And beginning to pay more attention to those around you and less attention to yourself is a great way to help put things in perspective. And for better or worse, nothing helps you forget your own pain than busying yourself helping somebody else...)
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