THAT'S MEN:Whining is part of what we are – it's in the DNA, writes PADRAIG O'MORAIN
I WAS having a good whine to myself the other morning as I looked out on gorgeous sunshine and blue Irish skies.
I can’t remember what I was whining about – probably the delay in getting refills for my Sodastream gizmo or something of equal national, nay, international importance.
Anyway, I spotted what I was doing and summarily declared my life a whine-free zone for an unspecified period. So far so good and much mental energy spared.
But I am not advocating an end to whining. As one who has worked as a journalist either partly or completely for a long time, I owe a lot to the whine, as do a great many of my colleagues.
Journalists make money out of whining entertainingly, especially the men.
Women whine, of course, but they’re not much good at it. They sound like they’re just, well, whingeing.
A whining man, on the other hand, can write an interesting article on the topic of his complaint or can thrill you by suggesting that the world is about to come to an end.
As an example, I would refer to the whiners who have taken up residence on the airwaves and in the pages of our newspapers since the world financial system collapsed in the autumn of 2008.
You have to admit there is something heroic about these guys. They whined like billyo about past, present and future and had us all riveted, even staying up late to watch them on Vincent Browne.
Then came a feeling that things might be about to pick up, what with pronouncements from various august bodies that the recession is over.
But the lads just turned up the volume.
Not only is Ireland ruined but the Brits are ruined, Europe is ruined, the US is ruined and – I really like this one – even the Chinese are ruined.
And what’s more we are never, ever going to win the Eurovision song contest again.
And what about men as a gender, eh? We men, we whine, have lost our purpose in life now that the women are out working and having babies on their own and not being locked away in Magdalen Laundries.
Frankly, we don’t know who we are or what we are or what to do next, and that’s why we need lots and lots of drink and drugs.
Meanwhile, the women whine that we expect them to work all day and still come home and do the housework while we sit around playing with our Xboxes.
Is it any wonder we are all whining like a maternity ward full of startled babies?
No, it isn’t, because you could actually look at all of Irish history as one long whine.
What the Vikings did to us. What the Normans did to us. What the English did to us.
Ignore the inconvenient fact that we have Viking, Norman and English blood running in our veins and that “they” are actually “us” – the whinefest is everything and we must get our priorities right.
Whining, in other words, is part of what we are – it’s in the DNA.
And it’s continually reinvented, not only for us but for the human race.
If you’re into Twitter, count the number of whines scrolling up your screen daily. You can probably even get a whine app for your iPhone.
I suppose whining is really about the unsatisfactory nature of a world that fails to revolve around me.
I don’t know why the world won’t revolve around me – we would all have more fun if it did – but it won’t, so I am reduced to whining about it.
Or I was until I made my resolution.
However, I am not claiming to be holier than thou and I am sure I will be back to my old ways before long.
I see dark clouds gathering in the sky outside my window and the rain is about to come down, and I’m about to run out of gas for the Sodastream.
That’s the trouble with this country, you can’t . . . oops.
Padraig O’Morain (pomorain@ireland.com) is a counsellor accredited by the Irish Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy.
His book, Light Mind - Mindfulness for Daily Living, is published by Veritas. His monthly mindfulness newsletter is free by e-mail