All too often when we catch ourselves complaining about something trivial, we're reminded of someone who is less fortunate than we are. I dont know about you, but when I was in primary school and complained that my Mum hadn't cut the crusts off my sandwich (or some equally indignificant issue), she would remind me of kids in Africa who didn't have a school lunch. My general response would be to roll my eyes, because as empathetic as I was to my own suffering, my 8-year-old self didn't have starving African children on her radar.
It's not complicated, it's just difficult to master. The art of living, and of living well. I've been drifting for a while now, content with gliding along. Not realising that by doing so, I chose the easy option. To glide, is to move smoothly and with ease, overtaking obstacles and travelling in a fluid motion. But life doesn't work like that, it was never meant to be a simple task. Paths have cracks, roads have blocks and when we're stopped to face them, we're forced to take a different route.