Love Self

Don’t Lose Your Whistle

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I hope you realize that if comfort is your joy, the moment comfort leaves, you will no longer have joy. It doesn’t take much to become uncomfortable; it often happens in a moment’s notice. In a world that has news broadcasted 24/7, we have the luxury of repeatedly hearing how bad everything is. There were times when I did not realize I was supposed to be upset. But thankfully the news was there to remind me why I should be. I grew tired of the emotional roller and decided to take a break from the ride.

Reasons to become upset will certainly come. If you were invested in the stock market, today your lip may have quivered, followed by a twisted-up face. People are worried about all kinds of things; the list would be too long to name all the reasons. My take on it this year is to not give in to the pressure when unwelcome news comes. I know it will be difficult but at the same time, it will be worth it. I am not an old dog that must sit on a rusty nail. Like you, I am a remarkable human being with the intelligence to change what I can and accept what I cannot.

Complaining is the quickest way to give up your joy in times of discomfort. It weakens the mental state and robs us of joy that gives us strength. In dark times, it is tempting to give in to doubt. If you need a little help with it, look around. I remember once I was feeling the doom and gloom. It was a rainy day, the sky darkened with gray. The wind was blowing hard and lots of rain pouring down. I was walking in the yard and I saw a bird nest, lying on the ground. I felt bad for the bird that lived in it, having lost its home.

I wondered if there were more that had lost their homes too. I was already sad as it was, but it furthered saddened me to see their dismal situation. But eventually the rain stopped, the gray sky gave way to a slighter brighter tone. Soon, whistles filled the air, and the birds came back out. I wondered why they whistled so heartily. Had they so quickly forgotten what happened? Hadn’t one of them lost their nest, if not more? Yet the whistling continued.

Who would have thought cheerful little birds would remind me not to lose my whistle?

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