Into each life, some rain must fall. So said Longfellow in his poem, ‘The Rainy Day’. Adversity does not discriminate, it does not pick and choose its recipients. So, when tough days come your way, as they inevitably will, is there any point in asking “why me”?
It is so easy to get lulled into a false sense of security when everything is going well. But life, well, life is never ever straight forward. Sometimes it doesn’t chuck just a bit of trouble your way, it chucks a bucket load and then some.
2019 was annus horribilis for us. It started out fine and then as the year progressed, my younger daughter’s health spiralled down once again. From pain in the back that was initially dismissed as a Vitamin D deficiency, then attributed to a muscle strain, I saw my active, mostly healthy and happy child become bed-ridden and dependant on crutches, while we ran from pillar to post for a proper diagnosis. This was not her first brush with ill health. She had suffered previously from other issues, nothing life-threatening thankfully, but enough to have affected her self esteem and joie de vivre.
The end of the year saw us turn a corner very cautiously, with hope in our hearts and a little prayer on our lips. Improvement was slow and steady with a few minor setbacks thrown in, but enough for us to see a little light at the end of this long, dark tunnel that we’d been trapped in for quite some time.
Then something else happened. It was a minor allergic reaction to something, but it brought all her previous fears rushing back. For nearly five years, it had been one thing or another, and my poor child was fed up, frustrated and at the end of her tether. She broke down in my arms, sobbing, asking – “Why me?”
I pacified her as best as I could, then calmly, almost clinically, asked her, “Why not you?”
It’s so easy for each of us to feel that we are hard done by, that no one else has the troubles that we do, that our suffering is monumental, that everyone else is living the dream while our lives are a nightmare. But look around, really look around. No one’s life is perfect. That social media perfection is the gloss that hides the daily grind and grime from each other.
Years ago, my mother had taught me a valuable lesson. She’d said, if you have to compare yourself to anyone, then do it with someone far worse off than you, because at that moment you will realise how blessed you really are.
I said the same to my daughter. I spoke about X, a young boy we knew well, who is now a young man, debilitated for the last 11 years, laid low by an unknown virus, unable to walk without aid, eat unassisted and completely unable to vocalise his thoughts or his emotions to his devastated parents. That, I said to her, is a tragedy. Yet, they keep putting one foot in front of the other and carrying on loving and taking care of their precious son.
I didn’t say this to diminish or ignore her suffering in any way, but to demonstrate that the Universe hands out its cards randomly and that what we are dealt with is our lot. We can choose to accept the challenge or be buried under the weight of it.
When life throws you that curveball, instead of asking “why me” which immediately casts you in the role of a victim, ask “why not me?” because that shows that you understand that you are not exempt from life’s woes, but more than up to the challenge of facing them head-on. You are NOT a victim. What you ARE is a survivor.
I’ll close with Longfellow’s poem as a little reminder to us all that rainy days will come, but if we are patient and resilient, the sunshine will follow soon enough.
The Rainy Day
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
– H.W. Longfellow
