Bad humor is an evasion of reality; good humor is an acceptance of it. – Malcolm Muggeridge
A little bit of mercy makes the world less cold and more just. – Pope Francis
The following is a continuation of my memoir as seen in my last blog.
Patience and humility became my constant companions. It was not their job to make me virtuous; it was their job to get me through the day. Trying to live one day at a time helped, but it was not always enough. Sometimes it was necessary to live one hour or one minute at a time. It was then that I enlisted good humor and mercy to aid in my cause.
Good humor was more than a sense of humor. It was cheerfulness and a willingness to help or cooperate with others, regardless of my personal desires or moods.
But when I was impatient, desperate to be in control, mistrustful, or insecure, I often could not change the way I felt. The harder I struggled against these feelings, the stronger they became.
When all else failed, I threw up my hands in frustrated surrender. It was not the best choice, but sometimes it was the only choice.
Mercy was having a heart, giving somebody a break, and, most of all, forgiving. And forgetting.
When I gave people a hard time, offended them, or worse, I tried to apologize immediately. If I did not, I often found myself preferring to stick red-hot needles in my eyes rather than asking for their forgiveness.
When someone offended me, I tried to forgive; I also tried to forget.
If I did not, I often relived and embellished the offense and felt angrier than I was in the first place. I found myself in my own little hell, where feelings of resentment, hatred, and revenge held me hostage in the darkness. –Excerpt from “I’m Afraid”
I offer these thoughts for your consideration.
Welcome to my world!
The saga continues in my next blog.