I am a self-proclaimed cynic (or realist, depending on my mood). I have an all too real view of how wicked and fallen the human race is. I involuntarily scowl sometimes at what I'm thinking or what someone else is saying. I enjoy watching tragic movies and listening to sad songs. I nod along with T.S. Eliot when he's at his lowest emotionally (April really is the cruelest month). Sometimes, I relish in what I consider my heightened understanding of the world. I'm not living under some kind of false sense of light and happiness.
I sound like an arrogant jerk, right? Well, it's because I am.
Okay, so I'm not like that all the time; I just kind of highlighted all of my cynical qualities at once. On good days, I see all the darkness and wickedness, but rejoice in the joy and good. I see people like paintings: I see God's brushstrokes and the colors and the painful scrapes of the painting knife, but I also feel I can see a glimpse of the final product. Because I'm outside of the painting looking in, I can get a sense of where God's heading with His creative license. And oh, it is so beautiful.
So I'm not a Debbie Downer all the time. While fake cheerfulness can irritate me, I appreciate genuine optimism.
But I'm realizing what my problem is: I start with the bad stuff and work to the good. That's how I've operated for the past several years, and I think it's hurt me more than protected me. Because, really, that's why I do it--protection.
The past couple weeks have been kind of stressful for me. Just lots of work due and not enough sleep. But then, this week, I've had the most amazing things happen. They're all small and seem insignificant, but they have done more to boost my spirits than anything else. On Wednesday, a friend just randomly bought me a doughnut and chocolate milk, which if you know me, you'd know just how much I'd love that. Last night, I went shopping with another friend, and we had some great conversation: deep, thought-provoking stuff. But then mixed in with that, we tried on ridiculous dresses, ate Italian street food, and just joked around. After that, I saw another friend of mine in a play, and we went and got coffee afterwards, being far too loud for such a small shop.
I just feel so blessed to have these friends. I know people say that a lot, but I really truly mean it. Last year, I didn't have that many friends at Cedarville. Maybe 1 1/2. I felt isolated, and I frequently second-guessed my choice of coming to college. But now. I have these amazing people surrounding me; every single one of them is different and add to my life in incredible ways.
What right have I to start with the bad when there's so much good?
It's funny because I started writing this blog post this morning during a lull in activity at work. Since then, I've gotten a card from my mom. Here's a little bit of what she said to me.
Remember, one day, one step at a time. God's grace is sufficient for today.... In the midst of your busyness and stress of this semester, keep a sharp eye out for your little blessings like a Mr. Robin [my mom loves birds], or an Olaf [she also loves Frozen], or a tiny flower, or some entertaining campus golf [I narrated a game to her this past Saturday]. Be sure to just stop now and then, breathe, look around you, and thank God for the little blessings.Isn't my mom the greatest? The correct answer is "yes."
It's always the little things that matter. I can lose sight of that being a big picture, future-oriented, cynic kinda gal. I have to pay attention to the details. Step by step I'll get to where God wants. The big stuff will only come after the little.
Which leads to another funny story. After I read that card and booted up the computer to finish this blogpost, an e-mail was waiting for me. It was the director of the study abroad program in Oxford; I got an interview with him tomorrow.
The big stuff came after the little stuff. My heart was already bubbling with warmth and contentment because I turned my eyes away from the stress and darkness of the future and focused on the little blessings in my life.
So, enough of early Modernist T.S. Eliot. So what if April's the cruelest month? In response to Eliot's depressing and empty view on life, E.E. Cummings wrote his poem "[into the strenuous briefness]." Cummings was naturally optimistic and resisted the hopelessness of his fellow Modern poets.
into the strenuous briefness
Life:
handorgans and April
darkness,friends
i charge laughing.
Though there's April and darkness, don't forget the handorgans and friends. Life is hard and brief, but it is also good. Focus on the good: and charge laughing.
