Rain, Rain, Go Away

The last day or so has been challenging. Nothing big, really -- just a succession of minor annoyances, culminating in the unexpected demise of my car yesterday afternoon. But, hey -- it got me home, and like its driver, it's feisty. It will be fine, just as soon as I write a check to free it.

I will be fine, too, but today is a day I could have used some sunshine. After muddling through a cloudy morning cloaked in more than my fair share of self-pity, I realized that I was getting in my own way. Sunshine or no sunshine, I had a choice to make. I could keep muddling and mumbling, or I could change my outlook.

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Simple, I know -- and exactly what I would have said to someone else. But when I'm the one doing the muddling and mumbling, that self-pity cloak gets nice and toasty, and a cold, hard reality check seems much less inviting.

Reality check #1: I'm healthy. I have a family who loves me (and vice versa). I love what I'm doing with my life right now.

That wasn't so hard.

Reality check #2: Disappointment is inevitable. So are tired cars and cloudy days.

I gave myself the reality check speech on the way to one of my favorite places, on the way to the job I love. But it wasn't until I came out of Starbucks smiling, then looked down at my cup to see the little hearts one of the baristas had drawn (how did she know I needed that?) that I realized I had to keep looking. The clouds weren't likely to part on their own any time soon, so I needed to beat down the gloom with a barrage of the little things.

My favorite drink in a cup with my name and little hearts. Beautiful fall leaves that outshine the dreariness of the rain. Another car to drive (my daughter's), alleviating my transportation issues. A classical music station discovered amid the saved stations in my temporary mode of transportation. A parking space a reasonable distance from my destination. Students who inspire equal parts joy and exasperation.

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I don't mean to be a Pollyanna, and I am well aware that true blues aren't blown away by an act as simple as counting one's blessings. But taking the time and initiative to cast off the cloak of doom and  look at the world through rose-tinted lenses can be the beginning of the end of a persona of self-pity more often than we think.

Some days, you get sunshine. Other days, you have to hunt it down with a magnifying glass.