I can’t remember exactly when it bloomed but there is strong evidence that the optimism seed is flourishing in the base of my brain. Its’ blossom affects most everything I do, casting rose coloured hues to obscure my vision. Its’ aroma is so strong I can’t ignore it. It works its’ way into most thoughts floating freely out of my head. And it is downright laughable.
I won’t buy lottery tickets when the pot is high because I believe winning will ruin my life; as I prepare to tee off on a par 3, I wonder how much it will cost me to buy a round after the ‘hole-in-one’ I am about to score; and after sending out an unsolicited book to a magazine editor for review I actually think through how I will deliver the hordes of boxes they will inevitably want.
I know it’s crazy but I assume I will win when I enter a draw, am certain that Oprah will eventually accept my email invite to come for dinner and am confident that my kids will one day ‘get’ all the stuff I’ve been harping about over the years. (However odd, the optimism does not interfere in any way with my ability as an Italian mother to worry about all things concerning my kids).
Interestingly rather than be continually disappointed with the ‘no show’ of the desired outcome I somehow find that the ever present hopeful thoughts make me laugh out loud. And for that I am thankful.
I admit after dealing with yet another daily dose of disappointment I can be heard woefully sighing my mantra of choice “something good’s gonna happen.” That in itself makes us laugh out loud but it also serves as my reminder to shake it off, let it go and move on.
I guess it’s because I want to believe that it will. And in doing so, I will continue with my rosy ways … because it sure beats the doom of the alternative.
Besides, such optimism keeps me alert and on guard for the ‘good’. I’d hate to miss it when it does show up ~!!~