The burden of wishful thinking.

When tragedies occur around the world, I try not to get too upset. Because they are events over which I have absolutely no control. No sense in becoming distraught. Or grief-stricken. Stuff happens. Like madmen that go on killing rampages. I can’t do anything about it. So I get on with the rest of my life. The best I can. And pretty much put those things out of my mind. Of course, if there are outcomes that I can effect in positive ways – and I don’t – that’s something else. Might leave me with misgivings. Yes, qualms of conscience. I draw lines. Allow some things to bother me. But not others. Used to be that I spent far too much time lamenting events over which I had no control. Some mighty serious stuff. But trivialities, too. Such as the outcome of a ball game.  I was burdening myself with wishful thinking. Oh, I still wish. For many, many things.  But hey, it’s all right if the wish-provider denies most everything. I can still manage. And more or less live happily ever after. –Jim Broede