Encore: Beware of People Wielding Ice Picks

People with ice picks.

You know who I’m talking about. You’re blissful, you’re content. Life is good. You’re in a little bubble of satisfaction and happiness when all of a sudden someone comes along and either with truth or with malice intentional or otherwise , stabs your bubble of happiness

with a big ugly ice pick.

Case in point: You’re a little kid. It’s Christmas. You’re giddy with the excitement of the holiday, and presents, and Santa Claus. You’re setting out the cookies and milk, making sure not to forget the carrots for the reindeer . Suddenly, out of nowhere, an older sibling comes along, grabs a cookie off the plate and says, “you know there’s no such thing as Santa Claus right?”.

POP!

And there’s bubble sud shrapnel everywhere.

Another. You’re in junior high. The boy you’re crushing on purposely sits by you a lunch. He tells you you look “pretty” today and then flirtingly steals a carrot out of your lunch bag. The bell rings, and a ”friend” comes up to you and says, “you know he’s got a girlfriend right?”

POP

Again, sudsy bits in your hair and eyes, speckling the area around you.

Later. Your friend is getting married. You hate weddings. Someone you’re dating has agreed to go with you. Thank god. You buy a new dress, you give the contact lenses a go and you feel pretty and witty and wise. When all of a sudden, your date calls with a lame excuse and you have to go to a wedding solo.

POP.

Finally, You apply for a job. It sounds exciting and promising and a wonderful opportunity for you to shine in your expertise. You believe you’re the perfect candidate. Then it’s announced that the “position has already been filled. Try again next time.” And POP! This time soap gets in your eye. Stinging with indignation and feelings of injustice.

POP POP POP.

Life can teach us to fortify our sphere of happiness. It’s all about perspective. Truth may change your circumstances, but it can’t change our outlook. No Santa still means presents. A boy made you feel pretty. You didn’t have to “brown bag” it when there was a “buffet” at the wedding. And not getting the position made you appreciate the job you had to the point where you did it even better, and made you all the more fulfilled because of it.

So now, when those ice pick wielders come near you

they can stab away at your armoured bubble of security and confidence in vain.

And the big ugly ice pick

is nothing but ice itself.

Melting in futility.

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