I’ve been a little under the weather the last few days.  That means staying in bed a lot later than normal and sitting around the house the rest of the day.

The natural result is that I have been feeling a bit down this week.

In an effort to budge myself from my easy chair yesterday (and, coincidentally, out of my moodiness), I suggested to the Lovely Lady that I might go write a line or two.  Her response surprised me a little.

“Are you going to write about sad stuff and make everybody else feel the same as you’re feeling?”

Misery loves company.

It was a favorite maxim for the red-headed lady who raised me.  Chiefly, it was her favorite go-to to remind her children that peer pressure would bring them to an unhappy end.  Troublemakers attract troublemakers.  Abusers of substances do their best to draw others into their addictions.

Even the Apostle, my namesake, quoted a Greek playwright in 1 Corinthians 15, suggesting peer pressure can be damaging.

I wonder.

What if I’m the bad?  What if the one bad apple that spoils the whole barrel is me? 

Perhaps I’m being a bit extreme in applying the truisms.  I only started out to remind myself not to make people around me miserable.  I never intended to accuse myself of being rotten to the core. 

I’ve always thought of myself as the influenced.  What if I’m really the influencer?

And yet, today, as I started down to the coffee shop, I couldn’t help myself.  I gazed at the tulip tree on the corner, remembering it a mere two days ago.  Brilliant in its blazing purple and pink decorations, it was the gleaming harbinger of spring.  My heart had almost sung at its appearance just hours before.

Now? 

It stands—dejected and brown—savaged by the cold front that howled through the day before yesterday.  What kind of song can be heard when the petals hang sagging and rotting on the branches?

I did the only thing that could be done.

I took a photo to share with my friends and acquaintances.  Surely, you will want to share in my disappointment.

Misery loves company.

Peer pressure.  Do you feel miserable yet?

This afternoon, I walked up to the nearby university to collect the Lovely Lady from work.  As we walked back home (along the very same sidewalk near which the tulip tree stands), she pointed out the green and growing flowers along the way.  She mentioned the warmer temperature today and we talked about the happy interactions we each had this morning.

That’s odd.  I felt joyful, almost grateful, as we neared our home.  The bright daffodils in the yard, most of them planted decades ago by a wonderful man who had a big influence in both our lives, finished the job as we wandered up the cul-de-sac.

As it turns out, joy and gratitude love company, too.  Just as much as misery does.  Maybe more.

Peer pressure.

The daffodils planted by my father-in-law over fifty years ago still have the power to lift the spirit.  Especially when viewed in the company of one who knows and loves me.

It works with friends.  And, siblings.  And, maybe even dogs.

I took the photo of the daffodils because I just had to show you.  Fabulous, aren’t they?  So much better than misery.

His promises are still sure.  Springtime and Harvest still roll around at His behest.

One day, He will wipe away our tears and we’ll live in the light.

Encourage one another.

Peer pressure.

 

“We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.”
(Albert Schweitzer)

“So encourage each other and build each other up, just as you are already doing.”
(1 Thessalonians 5:11, NLT)

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2024. All Rights Reserved.