I don’t want anyone to think that all I do is fixing other people’s lives. I have a lot to work on, too. To illustrate my point, I’ll tell you how I lost my identity, and how difficult it was for me to recover it.
Have you ever, by any chance, happen to lose your ID, or another important document? It has happened to me recently. I lost my ID card, and couldn’t remember where. The initial impulse was to start fussing over it. I know, there’s no point. Desperation and guilt can hardly solve anything either. It was an opportunity for me to practice what I preach: Is there a lesson to learn? Is this situation teaching me something?
I tried to be logical about it: what does the ID card mean to me? It’s my identity on paper. And, I’ve lost it. What’s the substance of my identity? How do I perceive myself, and how do others perceive me? The first thing that came to mind was that I worked hard to help people. Am I off the track, perhaps? Am I no longer aware of my own substance? I started to think about past events, trying to detect the underlying cause.
I remembered the situation preceding the loss of the ID card. I was with friends. I acted strange that day: my selfish ego was out of control and I was quite insensitive to the people closest to me. The memory gave me goose bumps, as I could hardly recognise myself. They were just trying to make themselves at home, in the most beautiful display of intimacy and respect to our relationship, but I didn’t see it that way. Shortly after, I called and apologized in a friendly conversation. In my head, I had previously spoken to them with an open heart, capturing the situation through their eyes, sympathising with them, and calmly going through it all over again, to learn my lesson properly.
The next day it came back to me that I must have misplaced my ID while I was quickly flipping through some papers at the bank. Those were some receipts, and I was standing behind the counter, so no one in the line of counter staff could see it and react. I walked to the bank, and reclaimed my “lost identity.”
Every problem, every pain, sickness even, can offer us an opportunity to learn. A problem solved, a recovery or at least improvement are all signals from the universe that we have. We are healthy, happy and smiling before and after, the hard part is only until we figure out the lesson. It’s the game of life, and that’s how you should take it. Play with your problems, and learn from them.
Next time you open the door and see a problem knocking, let it in as an old friend, have a talk, and say your goodbyes, like the good friends you are.
I don’t want anyone to think that all I do is fixing other people’s lives. I have a lot to work on, too. To illustrate my point, I’ll tell you how I lost my identity, and how difficult it was for me to recover it.
Have you ever, by any chance, happen to lose your ID, or another important document? It has happened to me recently. I lost my ID card, and couldn’t remember where. The initial impulse was to start fussing over it. I know, there’s no point. Desperation and guilt can hardly solve anything either. It was an opportunity for me to practice what I preach: Is there a lesson to learn? Is this situation teaching me something?
I tried to be logical about it: what does the ID card mean to me? It’s my identity on paper. And, I’ve lost it. What’s the substance of my identity? How do I perceive myself, and how do others perceive me? The first thing that came to mind was that I worked hard to help people. Am I off the track, perhaps? Am I no longer aware of my own substance? I started to think about past events, trying to detect the underlying cause.
I remembered the situation preceding the loss of the ID card. I was with friends. I acted strange that day: my selfish ego was out of control and I was quite insensitive to the people closest to me. The memory gave me goose bumps, as I could hardly recognise myself. They were just trying to make themselves at home, in the most beautiful display of intimacy and respect to our relationship, but I didn’t see it that way. Shortly after, I called and apologized in a friendly conversation. In my head, I had previously spoken to them with an open heart, capturing the situation through their eyes, sympathising with them, and calmly going through it all over again, to learn my lesson properly.
The next day it came back to me that I must have misplaced my ID while I was quickly flipping through some papers at the bank. Those were some receipts, and I was standing behind the counter, so no one in the line of counter staff could see it and react. I walked to the bank, and reclaimed my “lost identity.”
Every problem, every pain, sickness even, can offer us an opportunity to learn. A problem solved, a recovery or at least improvement are all signals from the universe that we have. We are healthy, happy and smiling before and after, the hard part is only until we figure out the lesson. It’s the game of life, and that’s how you should take it. Play with your problems, and learn from them.
Next time you open the door and see a problem knocking, let it in as an old friend, have a talk, and say your goodbyes, like the good friends you are.