Yet They Were Intrepid

THE GOOD PLACE (2016-2020)

Not only is that not true, but thinking like that is just not healthy. It also creates a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Look. I’m in my mid-thirties. I don’t think like that. I can’t think like that. The last time I thought like that I was in my early twenties and in the middle of the most severe depression of my life. My body basically started to shut down, it was that bad.

You know what helped get me out of it? My niece was born. Summer that year was gorgeous. I stumbled across a stream swarming with dragonflies while on a walk. I raised a bunny. I completed a 24-hour comic that I still quite like. My parents adopted a dog. I discovered so many new songs. Despite my brain being committed to being miserable, good things kept happening. And I began to expect them.

This year, over a decade later, I hatched chicks and every weekend I visit them at my parents’ farm. The peach trees I planted 3 years ago are bearing fruit. My dogs get compliments on our walks for how well-behaved and sweet they are. The baristas at the coffee shop know my name. That same niece is competing in the junior olympics. Today rain is falling and it smells like petrichor outside. The rain will help my roses bloom.

The problem is you’re thinking too large, too big, too grand in scope. Humans aren’t made to live like that. Very few can handle it. The rest of us? We can look for the good and fix the bad within arm’s reach. We can focus on making progress and goodness where we can see and touch it. So stop worrying about far off things all the time, whether the distance is in time or in space. Doing so will just keep you miserable and prevent you from seeing what’s in front of you.

You don’t think good things will happen? It’s happening right here and right now! Go outside, stand on the sidewalk, and look at the grass by your feet. Do you see the wood sorrel blooming? The clover? Around here we get henpin and deadnettle too. You can pick their flowers from the stem and if you see a drop at the end, that’s nectar! Have a taste, it’s sweet. If you sit and watch for a few minutes you’ll see honey bees! Moths! Butterflies! Stay quiet and a few minutes more you’ll hear birdsong. Such good things outside your door.

Even if you live by a busy road, even if you think you’re surrounded by concrete and ugliness, you’ll still see and hear these things. Take a walk and look, really look, at what’s around you. You’ll see evidence of children playing, of families. You’ll spot a stray cat or a wild bunny, squirrels, pigeons and doves. Crows and ravens. There’s a small plant growing in the crack of a wall. A bird taking a bath in a puddle.

Cats’ fur is still soft and their purrs are loud. Dog tails wag so hard with love and happiness they can sprain them!

You can expect good things. You should! But you need to recalibrate where you’re looking and refocus your expectations.

And I get that it can be hard to get to that point. But there’s a song lyric that’s been sticking with me a lot lately. “We keep doing these things not because they’re guaranteed to make us feel good. But because failing to do them? Guaranteed to make us feel bad.” (Good Morning Sunshine by the Narcissist Cookbook).