Sometimes a shift in perspective can transform your life and your enjoyment of it, in an instant. We’re all susceptible to feeling like we’re victims of things outside our control, however it is our reactions to such things that largely define our happiness.
I once knew a young man named Jamal, who had a knack for getting into the most ridiculous situations. We’re not talking normal mishaps here—we’re talking cosmic-level nonsense. It seemed like life had singled him out for a comedy of errors. Missed buses, spilled coffee, and pigeons that only targeted his new shirts—Jamal couldn’t catch a break. Every morning, he would look up at the sky and mutter, “Why me, universe? Why me?”
Take, for instance, the time Jamal tried to enjoy a quiet lunch in the park. He opened his sandwich, excited for a peaceful moment with nature, when—BAM!—an enthusiastic squirrel leaped from a tree, knocked his sandwich out of his hands, and scurried away with the prize. As if that wasn’t bad enough, a sudden gust of wind sent his napkins into a nearby fountain. Jamal just sighed, “Figures.”
Feeling like the world had a personal vendetta against him, Jamal began calling himself “The Victim of Circumstance” (it had a certain dramatic flair to it). His friends tried to cheer him up, but he was set in his belief that life was out to get him. Why else would he lose his keys at least twice a week? He was convinced that if he tripped, it was because gravity had taken offense to him specifically.
But then something strange happened.
One day, Jamal was in a rush to get to a job interview when, naturally, his shoe decided to betray him. The sole ripped right in the middle of the sidewalk. Jamal stood there, one shoe flapping like a broken sandal, staring at it with the usual exasperation. “Why is this my life?” he muttered.
Just as he was about to dive headfirst into a pity party, an elderly woman with a cane shuffled by. She stopped, looked at his flappy shoe, and chuckled. “You know, son, at least you have shoes.”
Jamal blinked. He looked down at his ruined shoe and then at the woman, who was wearing well-worn slippers that had clearly seen better decades. It was like a little light bulb went off in his head, but instead of glowing brightly, it flickered awkwardly because, let’s be real—brother Jamal wasn’t quite used to epiphanies.
He smiled sheepishly at the woman and said, “I guess you’re right.”
As she shuffled away, Jamal stood there for a moment, contemplating what had just happened. Maybe—just maybe—he had been looking at things all wrong. Sure, a squirrel once made off with his sandwich, but hey, he wasn’t starving. And yes, his napkins had flown into a fountain, but at least he didn’t fall in with them.
That day, instead of sulking about his bad luck, Jamal started thinking about what he could be grateful for. He had a shoe (well, one functioning shoe), an interview to go to, and apparently, a squirrel with excellent taste in sandwiches. He figured that had to count for something.
Jamal decided to give this gratitude thing a go. The next morning, he woke up, and instead of immediately groaning about the noisy garbage truck outside, he thought, “At least they’re picking up the trash.” Baby steps.
Later, when he spilled coffee on his favorite shirt, instead of cursing the heavens, he shrugged and thought, “Hey, at least it wasn’t hot this time.” And when he missed the bus, he laughed to himself and said, “Guess I get some extra fresh air today.”
As days went by, Jamal found himself smiling more often. The universe didn’t seem like such a prankster anymore. Sure, the squirrels still had it out for him, but now it felt more like a friendly rivalry than a cosmic conspiracy. One time, when a pigeon aimed for his new shirt and missed, Jamal actually celebrated as if he had just won the lottery.
Slowly but surely, Jamal’s perspective shifted. He realized that life wasn’t out to get him—it was just life. Things happened, both good and bad, and it was up to him to decide how he wanted to react. Every time something didn’t go as planned, he practiced gratitude. A missed bus became extra time to call a friend. A broken umbrella on a rainy day became an opportunity to splash around in puddles like a kid.
One day, Jamal ran into the same elderly woman who had sparked his gratitude journey. She smiled at him and asked, “How are the shoes holding up?”
Jamal grinned and replied, “Better than ever, thanks to you.”
He had learned that while he couldn’t always control what happened to him, he could control how he responded. And by choosing gratitude, Jamal transformed his life from a comedy of errors to a joyful adventure, where every mishap had its silver lining—especially if you were paying attention.
And the best part? Jamal never called himself “The Victim of Circumstance” again. Instead, he liked to think of himself as “The Grateful Guy Who Once Lost a Sandwich to a Squirrel—but That’s Okay.”