A hospice nurse asked me if my mother had always been a stoic. I snort-laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe for nearly two minutes. My mother? Stoic? This was the woman who once grounded me for rolling my eyes, slammed kitchen drawers like they owed her money, and delivered sarcasm along with a swift wooden spoon. And as the youngest of three, I got the “lite” version according to my siblings; but still, no one who knew her would’ve mistaken her for Marcus Aurelius’ understudy.
And yet, there she was at the end of her life: calm, still, often peaceful. Stoic.
That nurse unknowingly handed me a life lesson with her question.
People change. Circumstances shift. And life?
Life isn’t unfair. It’s just INDIFFERENT.
It doesn’t wake up plotting against us, nor does it sprinkle fairy dust to make sure we succeed. It just… is. The rest is up to us.
We forget that part. We get caught in the daily unfairness tally: why them, not me? Why later, not now? But life doesn’t play favorites. Everyone you know has a backstory. That colleague who looks fine in the all-hands meeting? Might also be crying in their car between school drop-offs. The one who’s thriving on LinkedIn? They might be holding it together with duct tape and a double espresso.
And this is where professional development sneaks in wearing a velvet cape (because in my head, learning always has flair).
-Skills: you don’t control the script, but you can know your lines.
-Network: when the lights cut out, who’s in the wings with a flashlight?
-Activities: rehearsals look boring… until the curtain goes up and you’re the only one ready.
-Knowledge: life’s indifference doesn’t excuse improvising without context—study the play, know your cues, and learn from every scene.
That’s the quiet magic of it all. We can’t command life’s script, but we can absolutely decide how we show up before and after the plot twists. And with the right mix of practice, people, and persistence, we may even steal a scene or two.
So yes, nurse the hangover, lick the wounds, curse the skies if you must. But then decide, immediately, how to get back on stage. Life won’t clap for you no matter what you do, which is oddly freeing because the only applause you really need is your own.
