Curing Self-Pity

Today I had a severe case of feeling sorry for myself. As the time approached to leave for work, I thought, "I cannot do this." Standing in front of my mirror for a last-minute check, I thought again, "I just can't...."

So I got in my car and did because that's what adults do, right? At least the ones who want to keep their jobs! Once in the car, I started thinking "feel-sorry-for-myself" thoughts, until finally the tears started rolling.

Bleary-eyed, I pulled up to the stoplight behind a big pick-up truck in the left-turn lane. Apparently, he thought the oncoming traffic took too long to hit the accelerator, because he turned left in front of them. At the next stop light, he pulled up beside me. He wasn't looking at me, so I took that opportunity to study him. What was his hurry? Where was he going? He seemed preoccupied; he wasn't dressed up; he wasn't tuned in to anything around him -- he kept looking straight ahead, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. Was he a dad heading to school to pick up a sick child? Was he on an off-site job, missing his family and wishing he were home? Suddenly, instead of being irritated with his brash behavior, I felt an overwhelming need to pray for him.

Traffic patterns changed, and I found myself behind a vehicle with handicapped plates, going too slow in the left lane and driving dangerously close to the center line. Again, the irritation began..."Why are you just hanging out in the left lane? Some of us have places to be, chickie." I hate to admit that I might have actually said that out loud.

Somehow, compassion started to well up inside me again, and I wondered what the handicap was and if the driver was in pain; maybe she was on her own with no family nearby to look after her. And again, I found myself praying for her safety and well-being.

I began to study the inhabitants of each vehicle, and found myself experiencing a rainbow of emotions on behalf of the drivers who shared the road with me that morning. I believe they all got the benefit of prayer.

Then I noticed something:  I wasn't crying anymore. I wasn't feeling sorry for myself anymore. I had found a cure for the morning blahs:  Focus on others. Pray for them.

Sounds simplistic, but it got me through my morning. Maybe it won't work every time, I don't know, but it worked for me.

And, trust me, I have lots of self-pity moments.