It’s an odd thing perspective. I just walked into a room and saw two boys sitting in front of a TV and chatting. An innocuous thing really. A modern picture. Not a particularly interesting one. Normal. Dull even. Except that in this instant it made me very upset. I turned the TV off. Spoke some words. And the boys left the room.
And that’s the story.
Of course there is a whole other, big story behind that short sequence of events. A story of people living with other people. But to be honest, that big story is pretty much irrelevant. No, scratch that. It should be pretty irrelevant to my reaction in the little story. In the little story nothing bad was happening. Nobody had died. Nobody was being hurt. Two boys were watching TV. And the only person getting upset was me.
If I told you the big story you might well have some sympathy with my reaction. But I don’t think that is the point.
The point is that I’m an adult, and like every human being ever born I have a finite length of time left on this earth. I owe it to myself to not get upset about two boys watching TV. I owe it to them too.