I might make a serious case for why I get upset or discouraged.
All the reasons are true.
But if I look closely, I often find that I’m retelling the same story—the same lines I spoke when I was nine or seven, just repeated now in a higher register of language, played out on a more sophisticated stage, joined by older cast members.
The same worries, the same fears, the same reasons for delight.
In some ways, we’re all just children trying to tell the story we want to live in. When I see it that way, being compassionate becomes easier, the solutions that much simpler to find.