One of my fabulous NYC friends, one who is always posting photos of herself at places like the Emmys award shows, who has toured around with Presidents of the USA and been on TV plenty of times, is a working writer ... clever enough to name ice cream flavors for Ben & Jerry's ... she just posted to facebook asking for advice about how to stop making herself miserable by comparing herself to the "fabulous" people she knows.
I felt like telling her ... come live in my house for a while for a bit of perspective. Should I be miserable because I take joy in cleaning the litterbox with Kisa, the grumpy cat who is transformed into a puddle of purr during litterbox cleaning time? Or scrubbing the pooticules off of eggs? Or singing the Bone Song with Gust?
If at our age (nearly 50) there is nothing genuine in the life you've arranged for yourself that gives you real satisfaction and a sense of inner peace solid enough to bolster you against a fair amount of external noise, then you need to take a good, hard look at your own choices.
I felt like telling her ... come live in my house for a while for a bit of perspective. Should I be miserable because I take joy in cleaning the litterbox with Kisa, the grumpy cat who is transformed into a puddle of purr during litterbox cleaning time? Or scrubbing the pooticules off of eggs? Or singing the Bone Song with Gust?
If at our age (nearly 50) there is nothing genuine in the life you've arranged for yourself that gives you real satisfaction and a sense of inner peace solid enough to bolster you against a fair amount of external noise, then you need to take a good, hard look at your own choices.