The Pity Party was not well-attended

Journey  by unknown artist  shineystarstalkingto me.blogspot.com

 

 

NaBloPoMo prompt for today:

 What is the most important lesson you learned as a child, and who taught it to you?

 

We were playing softball on the front lawn of the McDonough’s house one summer afternoon.

I was about nine.  I was up at bat.  I swung the bat hard  without checking ; the younger brother of my friend Maureen was right behind me, and I hit him in the head.

Other than a bruise, he turned out to be alright. I, on the other hand, kept beating myself up over the whole episode.  I was cringing with misery.

Maureen confronted me.  She jabbed her finger at me and declared: “Stop feeling sorry for yourself!”

It was as though she had doused me with cold water.

I WAS feeling sorry for myself; I indulged in that quite a bit, young as I was.

I’ve never forgotten that lesson, though it took me until after high school to let go of the reflex.

After all these years, I still catch myself at it , but I remember those words.

 

Vincent Van Gogh   Facing Eternity  ( he must have had trouble with it, too)

 

I remember this observation by D.H.Lawrence: