I do not think it at all bad if anyone encounters trouble in his life.
This is not to say that I enjoy watching other people suffer. I once saw someone who had an accident on the street, an accident which he used as a basis for his personal injury claims. Unfortunately for him, his claims lost because the defendant was the local government, and well, nobody wins against the government.
But there was something else that he won though. He won his right to live. After the event, this man discovered that he had been taking his life for granted. He saw that more than caring for his family, his work, and his friends, he was only breathing and passing through his very existence. A sort of auto-pilot mode, if that makes sense. Not anymore.
As soon as he recovered from his shattered kneecaps, he asked himself what it was that he really wanted. He found out that he wanted to be community worker. So he quit his job writing speeches for sleazy politicians and applied for an opening at a non-profit organization specializing in giving free medical assistance to the poor. A sort of dignified charity work. He went there and won the position. Perhaps he also won his freedom. A passport out of the live he never wanted to live.
Troubles, as I see it, are not necessarily a bad thing. They are merely the short circuits which jolt the faulty wiring of our lives, reminding us that somewhere something needs to be fixed. And by us. Thus, troubles are the helpers we never positively acknowledge, and even detract. The tragedy of man lies in his inability to see who are his real friends and enemies.
Another time, I saw a person who was too shy to be around women. In his apprehension before going on the first date of his entire adult life, he crashed his vehicle and incurred whiplash. The person he crashed onto also incurred whiplash and filed personal injury claims against him. Mr. Shy Guy was forced to settle—and to cancel his date. But afterwards, realizing that his date still wanted to continue their forfeited night out, his confidence grew. It was as if, having encountered the worst thing that could have happened, and still be in “the game,” as he used to tell me, he discovered that maybe his car crash wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
That was what I was telling him all along. Troubles are the mirrors of our soul and the gateways of chance. They show us who we are not and who we can be.
This is not to say that I enjoy watching other people suffer. I once saw someone who had an accident on the street, an accident which he used as a basis for his personal injury claims. Unfortunately for him, his claims lost because the defendant was the local government, and well, nobody wins against the government.
But there was something else that he won though. He won his right to live. After the event, this man discovered that he had been taking his life for granted. He saw that more than caring for his family, his work, and his friends, he was only breathing and passing through his very existence. A sort of auto-pilot mode, if that makes sense. Not anymore.
As soon as he recovered from his shattered kneecaps, he asked himself what it was that he really wanted. He found out that he wanted to be community worker. So he quit his job writing speeches for sleazy politicians and applied for an opening at a non-profit organization specializing in giving free medical assistance to the poor. A sort of dignified charity work. He went there and won the position. Perhaps he also won his freedom. A passport out of the live he never wanted to live.
Troubles, as I see it, are not necessarily a bad thing. They are merely the short circuits which jolt the faulty wiring of our lives, reminding us that somewhere something needs to be fixed. And by us. Thus, troubles are the helpers we never positively acknowledge, and even detract. The tragedy of man lies in his inability to see who are his real friends and enemies.
Another time, I saw a person who was too shy to be around women. In his apprehension before going on the first date of his entire adult life, he crashed his vehicle and incurred whiplash. The person he crashed onto also incurred whiplash and filed personal injury claims against him. Mr. Shy Guy was forced to settle—and to cancel his date. But afterwards, realizing that his date still wanted to continue their forfeited night out, his confidence grew. It was as if, having encountered the worst thing that could have happened, and still be in “the game,” as he used to tell me, he discovered that maybe his car crash wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
That was what I was telling him all along. Troubles are the mirrors of our soul and the gateways of chance. They show us who we are not and who we can be.
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