Every now and then, you run into people who seem to thrive on misery. It's one of the saddest things of all. They seem to seek out any and everything that will grow their misery, as if it's their food of choice. Nothing makes them happy. Nothing lifts them up. Even worse is when you run into such a person who has a gift, and all they do is bitch about how painful it is to use it. I've never understood people like this. And I've run into more than my share. (even just three is more than one needs to meet, particularly if one is a Lover of Life)
I ran into one such person yesterday. She lives down the road from me, and has asked me numerous times to stop by and visit. Perhaps my Intuition kept me away for as long as it did. Because each time she'd invite me, I'd make up some excuse why I couldn't. Lies to keep from hurting her feelings. NOT my favorite thing to do. In any case, I kept putting her off. She kept asking. Yesterday, I acquiesced.
The moment I walked through the front door, I knew it was a mistake. I could feel the misery in her home. It was like a dark, heavy, foul-smelling blanket that covered every inch of her space. What could have been a lovely place was filled with regret and anger. She is a painter. Her paintings are quite good. But the whole while she was walking me through, telling of each work, she had nothing good to say about any of it. She spoke of how "hard" it is to create, and sell, and "get people to understand". She bitched the entire time I was there. When she showed me some of her works on her computer, I commented that one was so realistic it looked like a photograph. I meant it as a compliment. BOYHOWDY! Was that ever the wrong thing to say! She launched into a rant about how photographers are NOT artists. Neither are dancers, actors, singers, musicians, or writers. "Art", she said, "is all about pain. So how can you call a photographer an artist when all he does is push a button?"
It took all the restraint I'm known not to have to keep from reading her the Riot Act. It was such a shock to hear her words, I could hardly believe she wasn't teasing me. I had to look in her eyes to be sure. Rather than argue with her, I said, "Well, I suppose it's a matter of opinion. Everyone is entitled to theirs, regardless of how wrong it might be." I don't think she really heard what I said, because she kept right on with her rant. Happily for me, I'd set an alarm on my phone before I went over there. I adjusted the tone to ring like an old-fashioned telephone. I set it for one hour. Right about the time I was losing patience, the alarm rang. I took my phone from my pocket, asked her to excuse me for a moment, and walked into the other room where I pretended to be on the phone. I went back into the dining room and told her I had to go. I thanked her and headed for the door.
As I walked out she said, "I'm glad you came over, even if I don't agree with you." I thanked her again and left. As soon as I was out of sight of her house, I did my Happy Dance. I was (and still am) so incredibly grateful for my Life. And my attitude. And my beautiful, deliciously happy world. I was singing "THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!" all the way back to my house. When I walked through the door, Sophie greeted me as she always does; with full-blown Joy. I jumped onto the bed with her and rolled around for the next ten minutes, laughing and giggling and spilling gratitude all over the place. Oh how thankful I am to NOT be like that.
Today, while I was working on one of my own pieces, I thought about her. I sent a silent prayer out for her. I prayed she might one day see just how blessed she is. And be grateful for those blessings. I prayed she might find her way to more Joy, however small it may be. I said my prayers for her, and then one of my own:
Thank you, Sweet Mother, for ALL the riches in my world. I'm so happy to be happy. I won't dismiss my Intuition next time. I promise!
I guess that sometimes, it's good to have those kinds of encounters. They make for more appreciation. And...a reminder of how not to be!
As always ~
I choose Joy.
GiddyUP, Darlin's ~~~
I ran into one such person yesterday. She lives down the road from me, and has asked me numerous times to stop by and visit. Perhaps my Intuition kept me away for as long as it did. Because each time she'd invite me, I'd make up some excuse why I couldn't. Lies to keep from hurting her feelings. NOT my favorite thing to do. In any case, I kept putting her off. She kept asking. Yesterday, I acquiesced.
The moment I walked through the front door, I knew it was a mistake. I could feel the misery in her home. It was like a dark, heavy, foul-smelling blanket that covered every inch of her space. What could have been a lovely place was filled with regret and anger. She is a painter. Her paintings are quite good. But the whole while she was walking me through, telling of each work, she had nothing good to say about any of it. She spoke of how "hard" it is to create, and sell, and "get people to understand". She bitched the entire time I was there. When she showed me some of her works on her computer, I commented that one was so realistic it looked like a photograph. I meant it as a compliment. BOYHOWDY! Was that ever the wrong thing to say! She launched into a rant about how photographers are NOT artists. Neither are dancers, actors, singers, musicians, or writers. "Art", she said, "is all about pain. So how can you call a photographer an artist when all he does is push a button?"
It took all the restraint I'm known not to have to keep from reading her the Riot Act. It was such a shock to hear her words, I could hardly believe she wasn't teasing me. I had to look in her eyes to be sure. Rather than argue with her, I said, "Well, I suppose it's a matter of opinion. Everyone is entitled to theirs, regardless of how wrong it might be." I don't think she really heard what I said, because she kept right on with her rant. Happily for me, I'd set an alarm on my phone before I went over there. I adjusted the tone to ring like an old-fashioned telephone. I set it for one hour. Right about the time I was losing patience, the alarm rang. I took my phone from my pocket, asked her to excuse me for a moment, and walked into the other room where I pretended to be on the phone. I went back into the dining room and told her I had to go. I thanked her and headed for the door.
As I walked out she said, "I'm glad you came over, even if I don't agree with you." I thanked her again and left. As soon as I was out of sight of her house, I did my Happy Dance. I was (and still am) so incredibly grateful for my Life. And my attitude. And my beautiful, deliciously happy world. I was singing "THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!" all the way back to my house. When I walked through the door, Sophie greeted me as she always does; with full-blown Joy. I jumped onto the bed with her and rolled around for the next ten minutes, laughing and giggling and spilling gratitude all over the place. Oh how thankful I am to NOT be like that.
Today, while I was working on one of my own pieces, I thought about her. I sent a silent prayer out for her. I prayed she might one day see just how blessed she is. And be grateful for those blessings. I prayed she might find her way to more Joy, however small it may be. I said my prayers for her, and then one of my own:
Thank you, Sweet Mother, for ALL the riches in my world. I'm so happy to be happy. I won't dismiss my Intuition next time. I promise!
I guess that sometimes, it's good to have those kinds of encounters. They make for more appreciation. And...a reminder of how not to be!
As always ~
I choose Joy.
GiddyUP, Darlin's ~~~
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