The very same day—after I’d retained my balance—I wondered at my ability to feel anguish at such a minor occurrence. It was too easy. Which is the primary virtue of living in the developed world.
Right now, I have a sweet setup. Family, friends, a partner, a house, a job, activities I do and things I know I want to experience in the future. I don’t have to scratch around in the gutter for sustenance. I don’t have to sleep under the stars with only crumpled newspaper and ragged clothing for insulation. I’m not ostracised because of my appearance, my health, my personality, or my socio-economic status. And because of all that, I can attach significance to inconsequential things. Because of my fortuitous birth in this society, at this particular time, I’m capable of fretting about the difficulty I have typing something on my laptop and posting it on my website. Because of my position, I can devote all of my bandwidth to things a large portion of the world’s population would kill to be able to worry about.
It’s not wrong, or even right. It just is. But thinking about it does modify my perception; it reminds me to be a little more grateful, a little more humble, a little more patient, and to try a lot harder.