Ben Jonson, a heavyweight poet, playwright, actor, soldier and, reportedly, barroom buddy of Will Shakespeare, may be better remembered for his pomposity, arrogance and biting satire, but he was not without a softer side.

It was Br'er Ben who wrote, "He knows not his own strength that has not met adversity," perhaps suggesting that his caustic persona concealed the scars of wounds he had suffered in his less public life.

It is a fact that fate has not only a fickle finger, but a brutal fist, a lesson that is learned - or should be learned - by all those who live outside the Neverland of Peter Pandom.

As observed by this humble scribe in a long-ago analogy, great card players are not great because the dealer always hands them great cards. Rather, they are great because they play every hand to the best of their ability, using whatever cards happen to fall.

Obviously, when "things" are going well, it's much easier to move onward and upward toward one's goals and aspirations, but setbacks are not unavoidable downslides to the dumpster; they can, to the contrary, serve as springboards to success.

I'll not detail them here, because they are subjects more suitable for an obituary which I hope will not appear in the immediate future; however, some of the lemons I've had to suck in the past contained the seeds of my present (and abundantly pleasant) lot in life.

My darkest moments resulted from undeserved firings, betrayals, dumb decisions, bad advice, worse luck, economic recessions and a multi-year tussle with clinical depression.

During those forgettable periods, well-meaning friends and loved ones vainly tried to convince me that they were blessings in disguise.

They almost always proved to be just that, but I unashamedly confess that I could have, without a moment of regret, done without those blessed disguises.

That said, I offer some snippets of advice to anyone who has endured, is experiencing or may encounter hurtful disappointments, unexpected accidents, unfair treatment, failures and/or reprehensible wrongs inflicted by others, including Lady Luck.

Begin by accepting all aspects of the unpleasant conditions that you're powerless to correct or mitigate (e.g., the death of someone important to you).

Dwelling on what might have been or shouldn't have happened, is a completely understandable human reaction to misfortune, but it's the ultimate exercise in futility if you simply can't do anything about it.

If you ARE able to sop up some of the spilled milk without prolonging the agony, it pays to do so, as long as it doesn't lead to a prolonged pity party or further digging in a hole already too deep.

Best strategy is to survey the damage and make an inventory of the activities (a key word, that) which might make things look and/or feel better - or, at least less bad.

Begin with a strict embargo on negative self-talk (awfulizing). Reminding yourself of past miseries that can't be remedied is treated by the subconscious as rehappenings, accompanied by all the psychological pain of the original misadventures.

Unpleasant events can't always be prevented or controlled by their victims, but self-defeating thoughts are easily overcome by a combination of deliberate diversion and positive affirmation.

Aside: For a deeper exploration of this self-help therapy, readers are invited to check into the CD album, "In Search Of Maximence," details about which may be found at www.joeklock.com

Although hurtful experiences are on nobody's wish list, they are not without hidden value. We often learn more from hours of agony than from weeks of contentment.

In my own experience, while I seldom think back on the bumps and bruises of past misfortunes, I'll never want to forget what they taught me - nor fail to recognize how many stumbling blocks proved to be stepping stones to a better life.

With an apology for punning a popular advertising slogan, hurts can either throw you under the buses of defeat and despair, or put you in the driver's seat for a better trip into the future.

The wheel is always in your control, as is a choice of destination, despite whatever unforeseeable detours and potholes might lie ahead.

Author/Behaviorist Eric Allenbaugh chose to put it this way: "Painful as it may be, a significant  emotional event can be the catalyst for choosing a direction that serves us - and those around us - more effectively. Look for the learning."

Wish I had said that - or learned it earlier in life!