A young woman decided to leave her home place to go to college somewhere far, far away. Before leaving, she entrusted her beloved cat to her younger brother, telling him, "I'll be away for a year. It’s unlikely you’ll hear from me. Please care for my beautiful cat. You know how much she means to me. She's my world. Promise me you'll take good care of her”.
"Of course," her brother assured her, and she set off on her adventure.
A year later, the young woman returned home, filled with excitement to reunite with her family. She hugged her brother, before asking, "How’s my cat?".
“Your cat is dead!” the brother replied.
The news struck the young woman with the force of a thunderbolt. Stunned and shocked, she broke down, sobbing. After a minute, her pain gave way to anger and frustration. "This is not how you break bad news to people”, she told her brother.
“Why?”, he replied. “What should I have said?”
"You could have broken the news more sensitively," she replied. "I learned in my psychology classes that bad news should be delivered gently, gradually. You could have said something like, 'The cat went onto the roof. There was a loose tile. She slipped and fell. We rushed her to the vet. They did everything they could and tried to save her, but eventually, she passed’”.
"OK, I understand," the brother replied. "I’m sorry if I seemed insensitive. I'll be more considerate in the future."
"It's alright," his sister assured him, her anger subsiding. "I forgive you. Now, tell me, how is Mam?"
“Well,” the brother said, “she went onto the roof. There was a loose tile… ”
WRONG LESSON
Psychologist and academic Dr Noam Shpancer told this joke in a commencement speech to an assembly of college students. It’s a funny way of saying that sometimes, we learn the wrong lessons in life. By taking his sister’s point too literally, the brother ended up with a rule that didn’t serve the intended purpose.
In life, we often make the same mistake. We go through a painful experience, maybe a relationship breakup, a job rejection, or an argument with a friend, and think, “Well, I’ve learned my lesson.” But if we’re not careful, we can end up with conclusions that limit rather than help us. When we interpret life’s difficult moments too narrowly or in ways that protect us from pain at any cost, we risk internalising unhelpful beliefs that prevent us from moving forward in healthy ways.
For example, if you have been deeply hurt in a relationship, you might conclude, “People can’t be trusted,” or “I must keep a wall up and not let people get too close to me”. On the surface, these beliefs might feel protective – maybe they help you avoid more heartache in the short term.
But over time, those beliefs can become walls that isolate you. The “right” lesson might not be to avoid relationships, but instead to learn how to navigate them, or to recognise that relationships can end for multiple reasons and that it’s not necessarily anyone’s fault, or to simply acknowledge that life can be difficult.
Similarly, in the face of personal setbacks like failure or rejection, people sometimes internalise harsh beliefs like, “I’m not good enough” or “I shouldn’t aim too high.” They may hold onto this perspective as a way of avoiding future disappointment.
However, such beliefs will hurt your self-esteem and inhibit you from pursuing your true potential. A more constructive lesson might be one of resilience, understanding that failure is often part of growth and doesn’t define our worth.
It’s also important to remember that we don’t have to cling to lessons we’ve learned in the past. Just because we concluded something years ago doesn’t mean we’re bound to it forever.
So how can we ensure we’re learning the right lessons? One helpful approach is to pause and reflect on our interpretations. Ask yourself: What lesson am I taking away from this? Does it help me to grow, or does it keep me closed off? Is it constructive or limiting, helpful or unhelpful?
In the end, like the brother in the story, we must be careful not to learn the wrong lesson – or we risk missing the point entirely.
(First published in Southern Star on 21/11/2024)