February 21
No one escapes fate. But whether you bear what cannot be changed grumbling or with composure — that is up to you alone.
Sententiae (freely rendered)
Listening mode
No one escapes fate. But whether you bear what cannot be changed grumbling or with composure — that is up to you alone.
Anger at something that can no longer be changed often has astonishing stamina. You tell the story for the third time, and each time it sounds a little more like an appeal. As if somewhere there were an office that might still review it.
Perhaps that is the real point of grumbling: it is addressed to someone. It keeps alive the idea that someone is responsible, that things should have turned out differently and so might still turn out differently. As long as you complain, you have not come to terms with it. That can feel like staying loyal to what you had wanted.
To be composed would mean giving up that address. This is harder than it sounds, because the wish then loses its place as well. It wasn't wrong, after all. It just no longer has anyone to turn to.
Sometimes you notice the shift only when you tell the story again and it has grown shorter. No one has told you you were right. You've just stopped waiting for it.
