“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference”
Wonderful words from Reinhold Niebuhr. I really mean that. They’re the secret to a happy life.
So why am I so totally unable to live by them?
Scene: Me sitting in improbably glorious sunshine in Stockholm’s lovely Old Town, overlooking a maze of sparkling water. I'm in a pavement café, downing a cool beer. A lively street scene is a touch away.
Yes. What more could anyone want?
Yet my friends, I'm allowing “the things I cannot change” to drive me fucking demented. Specifically what demolishes my ‘serenity’ is the sight of magnificent Nordic goddesses, pregnant, pushing prams of half-breed mini jihadists, while some greasy Somali, only up to her shoulder, struts along beside her. Or more accurately, a few steps in front of her.
I can't change it if a culture commits collective suicide. So why can't I, like old Reinhold wisely suggests, take it with serenity and enjoy my beer?