I had a moment of clarity recently. Call it a sudden truth, or insofar an epiphany, but I am my father's son.
You see, I learned the value of complaining early on as a young man. It's zero by the way. I remember the day too.
One fall afternoon after a particularly challenging day at school and after-school activities, my dad asked me how my day was. I literally launched into this diatribe that he quickly grew tired of listening to and frustrated with it.
I continued at length. Finally, he abruptly cuts me off. "Son. Instead of dwelling on all the wrongs done to you, and counting them up." I can tell he's completely exasperated with me. "Why don't you use your high-powered perception, and fond ability to count up your blessings?"
I fall silent as I tally up my blessings.
He groans, "Out loud, Los. What's your blessings? What's your first one?"
Me: "Well, I'm alive. And I have everything I started with so that's blessing one. My health, all my fingers and toes. I could be dead."
He frowns: "And?"
Me: "I have family that loves me, a roof over my head, food in my belly, clothes on my back, friends to kick it with. That's just to name a few off the top of my head."
He replies calmly: "Ok. So the next time I hear you gearing up to complain, I'm gonna pose this to you. I invite you to travel downtown Seattle, locate the first homeless person, and ask them if you would like to exchange their problems for yours. I'll guarantee to you that you won't have an issue whatsoever finding someone to take you up on the offer."
Me: "Is this a lesson in the quote I could complain but who would listen category?"
He smiles: "Absolutely. With all the love in my heart, I say this to you. Please shut the fuck up, you're complaining is giving my headache!"
My point, you ask?
Like my father years ago had a headache from my complaining, I, too, felt a headache coming on as I heard complaining from co-workers, family, friends and loved ones.
Maybe I should walk them through the same exercise?
This has been my C Note.
'los; out
You see, I learned the value of complaining early on as a young man. It's zero by the way. I remember the day too.
One fall afternoon after a particularly challenging day at school and after-school activities, my dad asked me how my day was. I literally launched into this diatribe that he quickly grew tired of listening to and frustrated with it.
I continued at length. Finally, he abruptly cuts me off. "Son. Instead of dwelling on all the wrongs done to you, and counting them up." I can tell he's completely exasperated with me. "Why don't you use your high-powered perception, and fond ability to count up your blessings?"
I fall silent as I tally up my blessings.
He groans, "Out loud, Los. What's your blessings? What's your first one?"
Me: "Well, I'm alive. And I have everything I started with so that's blessing one. My health, all my fingers and toes. I could be dead."
He frowns: "And?"
Me: "I have family that loves me, a roof over my head, food in my belly, clothes on my back, friends to kick it with. That's just to name a few off the top of my head."
He replies calmly: "Ok. So the next time I hear you gearing up to complain, I'm gonna pose this to you. I invite you to travel downtown Seattle, locate the first homeless person, and ask them if you would like to exchange their problems for yours. I'll guarantee to you that you won't have an issue whatsoever finding someone to take you up on the offer."
Me: "Is this a lesson in the quote I could complain but who would listen category?"
He smiles: "Absolutely. With all the love in my heart, I say this to you. Please shut the fuck up, you're complaining is giving my headache!"
My point, you ask?
Like my father years ago had a headache from my complaining, I, too, felt a headache coming on as I heard complaining from co-workers, family, friends and loved ones.
Maybe I should walk them through the same exercise?
This has been my C Note.
'los; out
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