When I said goodbye to my cousin and his girls last Saturday as they were flying back to Melbourne, D said something to I which stuck with me. She was insisting on having her own way, so he took her aside and said: "It's not all about you."
This sentence came back to me when I got irritated with T yesterday whose inconsiderate and unreasonable (according to me) act had inconvenienced me. It's not all about you. Why get angry over something so minor? Even if she was wrong in doing so, why create a scene and insist on things being done properly? Find some other means to get what you want. Don't get mad, get creative. It's not the end of the world. Being right does not mean I should be unpleasant, exacting, or calculating.
It got me thinking, do I have an overly inflated sense of entitlement, something I abhor in others? Sadly I do.
Being a true blue Singaporean, I am guilty of expecting things to happen exactly when I am ready for them to happen. My bus must appear when I arrive at the bus stop. I want to be served nownownow. Why are you walking so slowly, impeding my way? Why am I waiting? Where's the much touted efficiency?
This impatience is due, in part, to me cutting things fine and being in a perpetual time crunch. It is also due to me giving in to the rhythm of harried city living that infects everyone. We are all rushing somewhere, we all have big, important things to do, so get out of the way or be mowed over.
Because my world matters most, forget being considerate, kind, or generous. I am intolerant of others, especially when they do things differently, and I demand perfection, perfect control in all situations. When things do not go my way, I gripe and play the blame game. What is wrong with everyone? Why are these people put on this earth to aggravate me? I don't care, I want it done my way.
My skewed sense of entitlement has led me to forgo being generous in many ways as I am deaf and blind to everything but my own needs. I sacrifice really listening to people, to God, and connecting to the Creator of heaven and earth in a way that would enrich me and help me be a better person. What I really want.
I have failed to be rich soil for the Word to fall on and reap a hundredfold (yesterday's Gospel). And yet, the sower keeps sowing over the rocky and thorny bits of my heart, for which I am grateful. His generosity is the redemption of my obdurate ways.
This week I resolve to listen more to His Word and give it room to grow and bear fruit. When I am tempted to insist that my way is best, or whine when something does not go my way precisely, I will tell myself what D told seven-year-old I, it's not all about you. As the song goes, it's all about you, Jesus.
This sentence came back to me when I got irritated with T yesterday whose inconsiderate and unreasonable (according to me) act had inconvenienced me. It's not all about you. Why get angry over something so minor? Even if she was wrong in doing so, why create a scene and insist on things being done properly? Find some other means to get what you want. Don't get mad, get creative. It's not the end of the world. Being right does not mean I should be unpleasant, exacting, or calculating.
It got me thinking, do I have an overly inflated sense of entitlement, something I abhor in others? Sadly I do.
Being a true blue Singaporean, I am guilty of expecting things to happen exactly when I am ready for them to happen. My bus must appear when I arrive at the bus stop. I want to be served nownownow. Why are you walking so slowly, impeding my way? Why am I waiting? Where's the much touted efficiency?
This impatience is due, in part, to me cutting things fine and being in a perpetual time crunch. It is also due to me giving in to the rhythm of harried city living that infects everyone. We are all rushing somewhere, we all have big, important things to do, so get out of the way or be mowed over.
Because my world matters most, forget being considerate, kind, or generous. I am intolerant of others, especially when they do things differently, and I demand perfection, perfect control in all situations. When things do not go my way, I gripe and play the blame game. What is wrong with everyone? Why are these people put on this earth to aggravate me? I don't care, I want it done my way.
My skewed sense of entitlement has led me to forgo being generous in many ways as I am deaf and blind to everything but my own needs. I sacrifice really listening to people, to God, and connecting to the Creator of heaven and earth in a way that would enrich me and help me be a better person. What I really want.
I have failed to be rich soil for the Word to fall on and reap a hundredfold (yesterday's Gospel). And yet, the sower keeps sowing over the rocky and thorny bits of my heart, for which I am grateful. His generosity is the redemption of my obdurate ways.
This week I resolve to listen more to His Word and give it room to grow and bear fruit. When I am tempted to insist that my way is best, or whine when something does not go my way precisely, I will tell myself what D told seven-year-old I, it's not all about you. As the song goes, it's all about you, Jesus.
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