Day 4: Teach us something that you do well
Pessimists scorn every rose has a thorn, but an Optimist knows every thorn has a rose.
Hmmm, I could list many things I don’t do well, but that’s actually one of the negative things I do well. What about the positive? I can’t remember when I first read this little ditty about thorns but it’s been ingrained in my psyche for a very long time. It took a long time to teach myself that how I chose to approach situations directly influenced how the situation affected me. Obviously many aspects of a situation were beyond my control. But my reaction was not, or should not be.
If I was in a power outage, then I could get to bed earlier and get some serious sleep. A long driving trip meant seeing new parts of the country. If I’d made that trip many times before then I could watch for changes along the way. If I was late leaving on a trip, I would be driving through at an entirely different time of day. This happened last year on my way to Pueblo Colorado, and I drove through the pass between New Mexico and Colorado as the sun was sinking. My only regret while seeing the sunset displayed against the mountains and on the plains was a lack of time to pull over and pull out the camera. But I have been able to capture many New Mexico sunsets from my back yard, a great advantage of living on the plains.
Snow and freezing temperatures are the norm here in the winter. I could either moan about feeling cold or revel in the accidental beauty all around me. I’ve chosen to do the latter. I loved my many roses in California, but found they did not do nearly as well in
what has turned out to be a wind magnet. But ordinary hedge roses, acclimated to the area, have produced far beyond expectations, holding on even when I forgot to tend them. Thorny bare branches have become a favorite subject with just the right combination of temperature and moisture.
Looking for the roses among the thorns might seem a useless form of entertainment. After all, the online dictionary describes Pollyanna as excessively, blindly, unreasonably, illogically optimistic.
Pollyanna played what she called the ‘glad game.’ Every morning she thought of at least one thing to be glad about. Hmmm, I’ve learned to do that. Every morning I wake with my legs working and
my eyes seeing is a good day. The mind takes a little longer to catch up. And since I also wake with my Salukis, life really is pretty darned good.
Tomorrow’s question is: What advice would you give for getting unstuck? I wonder, does this mean in the mud, in writing, or in life? This just might call for another cup of coffee.