It’s so tempting to spend time dwelling–well, carping really–on all of your issues. Why your life is screwed up. Why things never seem to go right. Why there’s never enough time to get all those tasks around the house finished so you have time to do what you want. As we used to say in college, BBATTB. (Bitch, bitch, all the time bitch)

Thankfully, we also have opportunities for a little perspective. Mine came today in the form of a phone call from a lost student. This is a girl who had it all–slim, gorgeous hair, smart, witty, the works–and also had nothing–screwed up family life, custody issues, parent on drugs, too much responsibility at an early age. Mr. Man and I both adored her, so we were wrecked when, at the end of her senior year, she just disappeared. No graduation day, no celebrations, no fanfare. Just gone.

Out of curiosity, I hunted her up on Facebook. It took a while for us to connect, but when she did, I found out what hardship really looks like. Take all of those issues above and add a mystery illness that turns out to be Guillian-Barré Syndrome. What began as tingling and numbness in her feet ended with her in the hospital for three months, intubated because she lacked the muscle tone to breathe on her own. This lovely girl, tall and beautiful enough to model, has to use a walker to get across the room and is a veritable shut-in. She’s one of the lucky ones who will regain most of her mobility, but it’ll take months of physical therapy appointments–painful, frustrating appointments three times a week–before she can walk at a pace that would, frankly, annoy most of us with too much to do and a tendency toward irritability (my hand’s up with yours there, honey).

And yet somehow, I could hear her smiling. She sees her blessings for what they are. And although she gets upset about what happened and wishes things were different, she’s taking her small victories where she can. It’ll be a long journey back to something resembling normal, but I have no doubt she’ll get there.

After that, my messy house and my family’s inability to pick up their dirty socks just seemed like a petty thing to be worried about. It’s all in your perspective, darlings.

Artwork by the amazing M. C. Escher.