A Consolation Prize
Sometimes, the unfairness of life chaps my hide.
Some are born to grow up to be beautiful, rich, talented, naturally skinny. Things come easily to others, they are given gifts of a sommelier’s taste buds, or an eye for fashion, or right or left legs meant for kicking, or brains that work on intuitive leaps others cannot keep up with. Some people come to their charm honestly, their smiles are easy — they go with the flow, they fall asleep quickly, they know what to do in every situation, they keep their heads when others lose theirs. There are those who are simply lucky or unfazed, or both.
And sometimes, the unfairness of life actually makes me happy.
The unfairness of life also makes for a more even playing field. Everyone (even the beautiful, talented, and gifted) loses people they love, because everyone is mortal. In the end, everybody dies. Ultimately, the choices we make in life are up to us. We can choose to give to charity, give of our time, do good, sacrifice for the greater good, or be selfish. We can choose to go to war or to make peace. We can cultivate our characters, no matter the circumstances of our birth, and that makes me happy.
But one thing I do wish we could receive, is a consolation prize. For horrible losses, nothing can be of equal value, but I am thinking some sort of a gift to salve the pain is definitely in…
