This post is part of Flashback Wednesdays, which I'll be doing through November while I'm taking part in National Novel Writers Month. It was written back about six years ago in response to some people who couldn't get out of the 'poor me' role they'd assigned to themselves. I think what I wrote is still relevant in my widowhood life.....
Have
you ever wondered why it is that some people who have so little are
able to sincerely appreciate what they do have while others who have so
much can’t appreciate it at all? We all have an occasional blue day from
time to time when the pity pot seems to be the most comfortable chair
in the house. I’m not talking about those fleeting times where at the
end of the day we stand up and realize we’ve worn a big red ring on our
butts from sitting too long where maybe we shouldn’t have taken up
residence in the first place. I’m talking about the general approach
that some people have towards life itself where their negative
disposition erroneously makes them think that their pain and
disappointments are always worse than their neighbor’s pain and
disappointments. I’m talking about falling into the trap of using
pessimism versus optimism as a general philosophy for living.
I’ve
always been an optimist. Even in my darkest hours I’ve been able to
recognize that wallowing in negative thoughts won’t help me climb back
out of the muck of any given life crisis that all humans, at one time or
another, go through---death of a loved one or a falling out with a lover
or friend, major disappointments and depression, loss of good health.
For me, getting back up after a punch in the gut comes from being able
to see that my metaphorical glass of life is half full---not half empty.
It’s a personality flaw that I have to struggle to have sympathy for
those people who spend their entire lives describing their glasses as half
empty. Sure, I understand that we’d all like to have our glasses
over-flowing but more importantly I also understand that those times
when they are over-flowing are as rare as penguin eggs in the dessert.
The optimists will tell you that the adversities we meet while we’re
striving towards that 'over-flowing glass' goal is what makes a person strong and that our
heartaches are what makes love---when it comes along---all the sweeter.
The pessimists, on the other hand will throw in the towel the first
moment things don't go their way and they walk around in circles like
both of their arms are tied behind their backs. They delude themselves
into believing that they have no control over their own happiness.
It
must be hard being pessimistic, to aimlessly drag those woo-is-me
thoughts and resentments around where ever they go. Optimists, on the
other hand, achieve more in life---have more, are loved more---not
because some divine intervention sprinkled magic fairy dust on some of
us and not on others. Optimists achieve more because they don’t give up
on themselves the way people with a defeatist attitude do. Pessimists
don’t see each new day as a ‘do-over’ that can change the course of
their lives. They are so busy cataloging yesterday’s losses
and tomorrow’s grim predictions to realize that they are stealing their
own futures in the process. Pessimists are chickens, plain and simple.
They are too afraid to roll the dice, take a chance and give up their
defeatist attitudes long enough to work as hard at being happy as they
work at being miserable. Nothing comes without a price tag, happiness
included.
Life is full of hardships,
challenges and heartaches for all of us and I am very proud I've never let those things keep me down for the count. A few pity parties once in awhile, sure, but it's not over until the fat lady sings at my funeral and in the meantime I am in charge of way I meet life. ©
painting by Henri Rousseau
“Not in Assisted Living (Yet): Dispatches from the Edge of Independence!
Welcome to my World---Woman, widow, senior citizen seeking to live out my days with a sense of whimsy as I search for inner peace and friendships. Jeez, that sounds like a profile on a dating app and I have zero interest in them, having lost my soul mate of 42 years. Life was good until it wasn't when my husband had a massive stroke and I spent the next 12 1/2 years as his caregiver. This blog has documented the pain and heartache of loss, my dark humor, my sweetest memories and, yes, even my pity parties and finally, moving past it all. And now I’m ready for a new start, in a new location---a continuum care campus in West Michigan, U.S.A. Some people say I have a quirky sense of humor that shows up from time to time in this blog. Others say I make some keen observations about life and growing older. Stick around, read a while. I'm sure we'll have things in common. Your comments are welcome and encouraged. Jean
Showing posts with label pessimist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pessimist. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
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