A joy shared is a joy doubled...
We all know the famous quote. But not many know that it has another part. "...grief halved." In fact, I did a quick search, on just "joy shared joy doubled" returns over 1,1 million hits, but add the word "halved" and it dwindles to 824. Crazy.
Okay, "A joy shared is a joy doubled, grief halved." This has been one of my favorite quotes in my entire lifetime.
I don't like grieving. I don't like things that make you grief. I'm not much of an adviser (except perhaps in puzzle RPGs), therefore I strife to become a good listener. If I can't offer a thought, at least I listen :)
Joys, everybody likes. And if one's having a joygasm, I'll follow in their wake. Even if their joy has nothing to do with me, at least I'm happy because they're happy. Happiness is contagious.
But that's not what I'm going to blog about today. I bet it's been covered many, many times. I'm going to go at it at a different angle. One that's probably already done anyway :D
Consider this: you were walking down a somewhat busy street, with you and everyone else minding their own business. If you suddenly got a call telling you some glorifying news (winning a lottery, your child's born, Ben finally proposes to Gwen), you won't have trouble sharing your joys to complete strangers. Shaking their hands, hugging them, and on extreme cases, even kissing them. Why?
Consider this: you were walking down a somewhat busy street, with you and everyone else minding their own business. If you suddenly got a call telling you some horrible news (house burnt down, your child's dead, Ben convicted of Gwen's murder), you will probably huddle your emotions until you find a familiar face before breaking down into tears. Why?
My theory is this: grief is harder to share than joy. To grieve is a sign of weakness from the olden days when men lived in caves. To feel grief, one must have at least a degree of empathy, something considered a burden in those olden days. Grief slows you down, and in those olden days, you need to move fast if you want to keep your dinner from making you their dinner.
These days, there are no more excuses not to share grief. However, the idea that grief is bad had been ingrained to our DNA. It hurts to feel grief, even if it's other people's, one that has nothing to do with us. Grief accumulates in our hearts, and with time may become harmful. But when shared, it is relieved. Thus, the quote remains true, grief shared is grief halved.
Joy on the other hand, is a sign of strength, even in the olden days when men lived in caves. To feel joy, one must simply accomplish or receive something that was previously unattainable yet desired. Joy encourages you to move faster, and the faster you chase your dinner, the more joy you receive from capturing it.
These days, joy is shared everywhere, anywhere, sometimes unconsciously. Do you tip your hat politely to a lady on the street? Do you smile to the grocer as he gives you your change? Little things like that are joy shared. Joy accumulates in our hearts, and with time grows powerful. And when seeded in others' hearts, it grows there too. Thus, the quote remains true, joy shared is joy doubled.
Due to grief's being seen as a weakness, people rarely share their grief with strangers. As I pointed out earlier, people would readily share joy, but rarely grief. Therefore, it is a great honor for me if my acquaintances began to share me their grief because, in my view, it is the point where they see me as a friend. As someone who they can trust with their grief. And although I may not be able to help much, I'd love to lend an ear, a shoulder to cry on, or to give a gentle pat on the back, if not for anything, at least for the courage to share their grief.
A dear friend of mine shared a bit of their grief to me today. You know who you are. Although it's only the tip of what I presume to be a much larger grief, I'd love to hear the rest of it. I can lend you a listening ear, where you can spew anything you want without prejudice, or a perspective ear, where you will hear my thoughts on things you say. But be warned, my perspective ear will want details, and may or may not side with you in your grief. If you want to keep me as the nicest guy you've never met, you'd want the listening ear, but where's the fun in that? :) I hid your identity in this post, but if you don't care less, you may comment while signed on. Otherwise, there's that little link that says Logout.
A quick note on our last chat, you know how I got to work at 8.30am and leaves at 8pm? Eleven and a half hours of work. I checked the log and our chat took 7.5 hours of it :D Mondays should be more like this.
In closing, I'd like to remind everybody that a joy shared is a joy doubled, trouble halved. So whether you are joyous or grieving, share it!
Cheers (that's me sharing joys),
SQ
P.S.: The pic here is my Uni's mascot. Apparently, we ought to be busy bees in learning stuff and whatnot. Meh, he looks joyous, so...
Okay, "A joy shared is a joy doubled, grief halved." This has been one of my favorite quotes in my entire lifetime.
I don't like grieving. I don't like things that make you grief. I'm not much of an adviser (except perhaps in puzzle RPGs), therefore I strife to become a good listener. If I can't offer a thought, at least I listen :)
Joys, everybody likes. And if one's having a joygasm, I'll follow in their wake. Even if their joy has nothing to do with me, at least I'm happy because they're happy. Happiness is contagious.
But that's not what I'm going to blog about today. I bet it's been covered many, many times. I'm going to go at it at a different angle. One that's probably already done anyway :D
Consider this: you were walking down a somewhat busy street, with you and everyone else minding their own business. If you suddenly got a call telling you some glorifying news (winning a lottery, your child's born, Ben finally proposes to Gwen), you won't have trouble sharing your joys to complete strangers. Shaking their hands, hugging them, and on extreme cases, even kissing them. Why?
Consider this: you were walking down a somewhat busy street, with you and everyone else minding their own business. If you suddenly got a call telling you some horrible news (house burnt down, your child's dead, Ben convicted of Gwen's murder), you will probably huddle your emotions until you find a familiar face before breaking down into tears. Why?
My theory is this: grief is harder to share than joy. To grieve is a sign of weakness from the olden days when men lived in caves. To feel grief, one must have at least a degree of empathy, something considered a burden in those olden days. Grief slows you down, and in those olden days, you need to move fast if you want to keep your dinner from making you their dinner.
These days, there are no more excuses not to share grief. However, the idea that grief is bad had been ingrained to our DNA. It hurts to feel grief, even if it's other people's, one that has nothing to do with us. Grief accumulates in our hearts, and with time may become harmful. But when shared, it is relieved. Thus, the quote remains true, grief shared is grief halved.
Joy on the other hand, is a sign of strength, even in the olden days when men lived in caves. To feel joy, one must simply accomplish or receive something that was previously unattainable yet desired. Joy encourages you to move faster, and the faster you chase your dinner, the more joy you receive from capturing it.
These days, joy is shared everywhere, anywhere, sometimes unconsciously. Do you tip your hat politely to a lady on the street? Do you smile to the grocer as he gives you your change? Little things like that are joy shared. Joy accumulates in our hearts, and with time grows powerful. And when seeded in others' hearts, it grows there too. Thus, the quote remains true, joy shared is joy doubled.
Due to grief's being seen as a weakness, people rarely share their grief with strangers. As I pointed out earlier, people would readily share joy, but rarely grief. Therefore, it is a great honor for me if my acquaintances began to share me their grief because, in my view, it is the point where they see me as a friend. As someone who they can trust with their grief. And although I may not be able to help much, I'd love to lend an ear, a shoulder to cry on, or to give a gentle pat on the back, if not for anything, at least for the courage to share their grief.
A dear friend of mine shared a bit of their grief to me today. You know who you are. Although it's only the tip of what I presume to be a much larger grief, I'd love to hear the rest of it. I can lend you a listening ear, where you can spew anything you want without prejudice, or a perspective ear, where you will hear my thoughts on things you say. But be warned, my perspective ear will want details, and may or may not side with you in your grief. If you want to keep me as the nicest guy you've never met, you'd want the listening ear, but where's the fun in that? :) I hid your identity in this post, but if you don't care less, you may comment while signed on. Otherwise, there's that little link that says Logout.
A quick note on our last chat, you know how I got to work at 8.30am and leaves at 8pm? Eleven and a half hours of work. I checked the log and our chat took 7.5 hours of it :D Mondays should be more like this.
In closing, I'd like to remind everybody that a joy shared is a joy doubled, trouble halved. So whether you are joyous or grieving, share it!
Cheers (that's me sharing joys),
SQ
P.S.: The pic here is my Uni's mascot. Apparently, we ought to be busy bees in learning stuff and whatnot. Meh, he looks joyous, so...