You know the kind.
The "wo is me, my life is so hard, omg what is life" sort of moment. We all have them.
Mine, however, was triggered by the most trivial of trivials: an intramural volleyball game. You see, I pride myself in the time and energy I have invested over the years in avidly supporting my friends in their intramural endeavors. Flag football? Tell me what field you're playing on. Basketball? Do you need someone to run the scoreboard? Ultimate frisbee? I hate it, but you know I'm there. I love watching my friends play, I love being psycho on the sidelines, I love making the occasional snide comment to the refs just to keep things interesting (lol). However, in some way unbeknownst to me, I seemed to have incidentally and unfortunately developed the idea that Intramural Support Karma is a thing, or at least should be. You'd think I was pulling teeth to get someone to simply come line judge a game (volleyball teams must provide their own line judge every game). So to hope someone would come and simply support? Preposterous! It is that sort of thinking that spiraled me into thoughts such as:
"I swear he is only my friend when convenient to his time and schedule."
"When was the last time she actually reached out to me to hang out?"
"I know she's married, but there has got to be some time to squeeze me in, right?"
"Sure, we're hunky dory when we see each other, but we practically never do see each other."
Toxic, right? I know. Thankfully, I don't usually think this way, but that night, boy was I on a roll down a steep and rugged cliff!
Well, it was no coincidence that during my "moment," I happened to be nerding out and watching what are to be considered some of the best advertisements of the last 10 years (domestic as well as foreign). It was then I stumbled upon this gem:
Now, I am by no means comparing myself to that man. His genuine and pure desire to help, lift, love, and serve surpasses my own by immeasurable quantities. I am, however, contrasting that man's mindset to my own. I don't know how accurately the subtitles convey what the ad's script is designed to portray, but you get the message, right? He's not looking for anything in return - and good thing, because in most of the scenarios, he received nothing.
When you saw that little girl, now in new clothes running to her mom after school, how did you feel? Yeah, I choked up too. I know this ad is for Thai Life Insurance, but isn't there so much truth and transparency to it? That man may not have received anything in return, but I love the translated subtitles that said he witnessed happiness. What if that were our goal and our greatest desire? Not to get our friends to come cheer us on at our intramural games, but to keep going to theirs because you want to watch them thriving at something they love. The emotions that are sparked by making someone else happy and witnessing that joy far outshines having someone on your own sideline.
And so, here I sit: on the couch in my apartment at 9pm on a Thursday night while one roommate is with her fiancé, another on a date, and the third having a blast in St. George; yet here I sit grateful for that "wo is me" moment a couple days ago so that tonight, rather than boiling over the fact that things like Intramural Support Karma are probably never going to be a thing, I can rejoice in the happiness that I get to witness around me every single day in the lives of people I truly love. And to my friends out there: thank you for letting me be the psycho on your sideline.
No comments:
Post a Comment