I was feeling sick. I mean really sick. Walking five steps would leave me gasping for air. My throat felt like murder (:bad). My head throbbed like a discotheque.
But I had work to do. Work I didn’t feel like doing, but which my professional self wouldn’t let me off not doing.
Let me share with you a little bit of my work ethos using one of my favourite quotes from Will Smith:
I will not be out-worked, period. You might have more talent than me, you might be smarter than me, you might be sexier than me, you might be all of those things you got it on me in nine categories.
But if we get on the treadmill together, there’s two things: You’re getting off first, or I’m going to die. It’s really that simple.
So I got to work. While working away through my illness though (whatever it was; or actually still is, because I’m still feeling its effects two weeks after), I couldn’t help but think if it was all worth it. This wasn’t change the world stuff; and I wasn’t being compensated enough to make up for that fact.
In fact, I started feeling quite sorry for myself. So sorry that I started googling for help: quotes on self-pity
And came across this little gem from D H Lawrence:
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.
Which reminded me of the Will Smith quote and helped me carry on till most of the stuff I needed to do were done.
On my walk to school yesterday though (I’m back to school for a Masters in Tech, by the way), I passed by a bird. That bird was chasing down a worm, pecking at it. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the worm, though I knew very well it was just the natural order of things.
And I realised that the reason why wild things never felt sorry for themselves could well be the reason why we do: because we are not wild; because we feel pity not just for ourselves, but for our fellow living beings.
How complicated our world is!