There’s a deep spiritual feeling within me that says good deeds lose their purity if they're shared. But then there’s the world we live in, a world where you have to "sell yourself" to get anywhere. This constant tension leaves me wondering: when is it genuinely helpful to speak up, and when is it just my ego taking over? The line between the two feels impossibly thin.
It’s especially hard when you’re struggling. Everyone, whether they mean to or not, talks as if they’re the expert and you’re completely clueless. You could argue, but it just seems better to stay quiet and listen. I’ve lived this so many times in doctor’s waiting rooms—with my dad, for myself, and now for my son. Complete strangers feel entitled to offer advice. My mind screams, "Do you know anything about my life?" But I just offer a gentle smile, because saying what I really feel would be too rude.
Sometimes, I just want to ask whoever made me this way: did they understand my strengths and weaknesses? If they didn't give me the strength to handle this pain, why give me the pain that makes me question everything about myself and feel so rebellious? Even with these tumultuous thoughts, I sit there, a smile fixed on my face, accepting that even this difficult, unwanted pain is simply part of my path. And I breathe a sigh of relief when another day is done.
No comments:
Post a Comment