Sometimes I worry that I’m a little too realistic.
Things don’t really work out that well in the end, I tell myself. Expect disappointment in the long run, because, after all, we are living in a sick and fallen world. If I don’t hold expectations that are too high, then I don’t run as high a risk of getting hurt, or let down. It’s okay when I’m disappointed, I tell myself, because I expected it.
I don’t call it pessimism because I’m not seeing the world as half empty, but for what it is—sick.
Unfortunately because I tend to think this way, I miss out on a lot of things as well: giddiness, excitement, passion, intensity, mystery and maybe even joy and thankfulness because I am constantly holding everyone and everything at arm’s length. Don’t let anything too close—you’ll see the imperfections and it will disappoint you in the end.
I don’t know when I started thinking like this. I haven’t always. I used to be the most open and inviting child in the world. I can’t pinpoint a trauma, or a life event that occurred making me close up and change. I imagine it has something to do with my depression and anxiety struggle, but that’s not really the point. It doesn’t matter why I started thinking this way—the point is, somewhere along the line…I did!
The funny thing about it is, usually when I open up to people and I let people in, I’m NOT disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been disappointed by a lot of people in life, but especially in the past couple of months, I realized just how blessed I am and just when I start to get jaded again about the world—God will send me a little reminder of my blessings.
Today I was shopping for school supplies like I do every August. I was in Walmart and Was putting all these things on the counter and I’m at the age where everyone just assumes I’m married with children so all these crayons and notebooks are, of course, for my 2.5 kids in the burbs I have. The man behind me smiled and said, “Boy am I glad to have aged out of that stage!” Instead of just smiling and nodding, I decided to go a different route this morning and offer a bit of myself—I smiled and said, “Well, I teach so I guess I’ll never age out of buying these things since they’re for my classroom.”
The man looked sufficiently impressed. I wasn’t buying out the store or anything, but I had a decent amount of supplies—hand sanitizer, folders, glue sticks, colored pencils and the like. “That’s what the dollar tree is good for,” he nodded and rocked back and forth on his heels. I laughed, “Actually I shop around for the best deals; that pack of crayons is only twenty-five cents here. I just want to make sure all my students have what I need for them to be successful.” I pulled out my debit card to pay and the man slipped a five dollar bill into my wallet. “I know it’s not much,” he said softly, “but I just want to contribute a little something for the fine job you’re doing for kids who don’t have the supplies. They don’t pay ya’ll enough for that.” I protested, but he held up his hand. “It’s my good deed for the day,” he said with a wink.
I may not get paid a lot, but that man paid me a compliment that was worth more than most of the money in my wallet and he reminded me today that there are people in the world who not only listen but do actually want to care.
I have a lot to be thankful for. A lot to be excited about. A lot to be passionate about, and a lot to look forward to. That doesn’t mean I’m going to be less realistic—I can’t be a whole new person—but I’m working on the attitude thing. One day at a time.