All Is Not Lost

So I realized something about myself. I have this strange tendency to think that when something goes wrong, all is lost. Even when things just don't go quite right, or when they are different than I planned, its time to throw in the towel and call it quits. It's such a ridiculous weakness I have, this readiness to give in. The surprising part is that nothing horrible has ever happened; no one has died because I forgot to do something, or hated me for the rest of my life because I said something wrong...I have no reason to panic, break down, and give up. Yet I do it anyway.

I plan out my schedule for the day, and then something goes wrong. A person gets in the way of my timetable, and I treat them as obstacles keeping my perfect plan from unfolding. I'm in charge of something for church activities, and I don't know exactly what's expected of me, so I feel threatened, pressured, and rebellious that too much is demanded of me. Then I refuse to do anything and seek ways to blame others for my lack of action. Sometimes it's not even that something bad happens, it's just that I can't imagine what will happen; I'm in a new and frightening situation, and as I attempt to predict what this situation will be like, scenarios of failure play through my mind and I lose all enthusiasm or hope for the event.

So despite being an optimist, and being known, by those who don't know me, for being positive and upbeat all the time, I am more often than not looking at the worst side of things. I see why things will not be perfect; I see how things will fail. I judge others for falling short, and think somehow they've ruined everything. I judge myself even harsher, and think I'll never amount to anything, never get it right. I worry about everything. I worry that if I don't plan enough, things won't turn out right. I think through every step, every hour, sometimes every minute, to make sure I'm prepared for the situation and have done everything I should have done. As my roommate helped me see, this only makes me the more angry when things still don't work out. No amount of worrying and planning can stop accidents from occurring, or keep things from going wrong. Nothing can stop life from happening.

So I've decided it's time to stop worrying. It's time to get rid of the "doom and gloom" attitude I've become so familiar with. Things will go wrong. And they will turn out right. Every situation that I've thought was ruined, every activity gone wrong, has been fine. I go into things with heavy heart, shaking my head and seeking someone to blame, or someway that I could have prevented whatever bad thing happened, and I come out, light hearted, smiling, wondering how everything came off so well, and vowing not to panic the next time, to trust that all would be well. Things that should have been done will not be; people will not be called, preparations will not be taken, and everything will be fine. Life is not half as scary as I make it out to be in my head. So now the challenge. No more giving up. No more scowls and frustrated accusations. Deep breaths, acceptance, faith, and commitment to doing the best I can with what I've got. There is no hopeless situation; there is nothing broken beyond repair.

There is no end to this pointless post because I'm too lazy to think of anything.


But if I may, here are a couple of things that have made me overwhelmingly happy in the last couple of days-things I think about when I start to feel overwhelmed and hopeless. Things that really matter.

First, the ducks this morning. I walked up to campus on a beautiful, sunny, warm winter morning, when birds were chirping, the snow was melting, and little clumps of ducks were all over. One particular white duck wagged his little feather behind at me the whole time I was walking past. I had to wiggle mine back-how could I not? And then, to my delight, I saw something made from snow on the lawn...a snow duck! With exquisite detail and form, a pure white duck sat there on the snow. I took a picture with my phone and moved on.

Another delight was walking out my front door a day or two ago, and seeing tons of little quail prints in the snow, running across our front lawn. I could just imagine the little plumpies waggling across the yard, their feather bobs bouncing up and down. All I wanted more was to see a little whisk in the snow from one if their feather bobs.

I've always gotten a kind of thrill from being outside during the middle of the day. It stems back to my elementary school days, when I was always in school during the day, of course. The times when I stayed home from school, and saw my mom at home, or when she worked but would come home for lunch, I just dreamed of the day when I could be home during the middle of the day, or doing errands when others were at work. There's something so thrilling about it! So yesterday, when I walked down Center Street at lunchtime, I was honestly tingling. To see all those buildings, and know offices were inside, with people working, and people taking lunch, and I was there, standing outside watching it all...it's the weirdest thing but I love it. I'm seeking a profession where I can be out and about when others are at work.

There have been a couple rather large snowstorms recently, but twice they've come and gone briefly, right around sunset. During these storms, the sky was dark and the world covered in snow, but as I looked to the west, the sky cleared, the sun shone, and a sort of light burst happened that filled me with such awe and hope and joy. I love sun shining through clouds when it rains, and it turns out that its just as magnificent when it snows.

Adding to that, the thought of spring has made me happier than a lot of things. This weather is crazy, snowing one day, freezing another, and warm and sunny the next. Well each time the snow melts, and little patches of grass start to show, I feel energized and ecstatic. I feel like a kid again, that can't wait to get outside and play. Today I think I even smelt "a bit of earth."

And lastly, the spaghetti. Making spaghetti with my roommate, seeing her throw it at the wall, and drag little noodles through the hot water to get them soft enough to eat...really those noodles look so silly and wonderful floating through the water. And I've always loved the word noodle.

The end. But I'm on the lookout for more such wonderful simplicities.