Lesson #1: Positivity

As per my sister's recommendation, I recently read the book "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch. I had heard of him before and even seen part of his lecture, on the Oprah show (clip seen here). Basically, for those that don't know the story, Mr. Pausch gives one last lecture as a college professor that is actually meant for his children to remember him because he is dying of pancreatic cancer. He is truly inspirational and I was touched by the book as well as the full length video of his lecture that I promptly looked up on YouTube. He basically gives shortened versions of lessons he has learned throughout his life that have meant something to him and things that he wants his children to remember about him.

Well, I am not dying, but I have had the idea floating around in my head since I finished the book that it might be fun for me to write some of my own "lessons" that I have learned throughout the course of my life. I of course will not be nearly as profound as Mr. Pausch, so don't expect anything glorious. However, I think I will do posts from time to time on this topic as things come to me. We'll see what happens.

So today I am going to start with something that I really need to remind myself of. I have had a rough two days on the job (I will probably post about it on my adoption blog at some point, but not yet, it's too fresh.) I came home yesterday convinced I was going to quit my job. And you know that I love my job, so that is saying something. Luckily, the feeling was fleeting. Anyway, today's topic is: Positivity, or the art of remaining positive.

Let's be honest, life is hard sometimes. My freshman and sophomore years of high school were particularly hard for me because those were the years that my parents were getting divorced. I was already having a tough time because I didn't quite know who I was. I think freshman year was harder than sophomore year, where I started to feel adjusted to the "new normal" of post-divorce life, of high school, of friends and of dating. So to preface the story that I am about to tell you, let's just say that sometimes I didn't know how to properly control my emotions, sometimes I was a bit rash (I know, I know, I would never do that now...)

One night, a few of my friends and I slept over at my friend Camille's house. It was the beginning of winter and the night brought frost. At this time in our lives, we thought it was especially fun to prank people and we had done some pretty funny things. We, however, liked to be on the pranker side of things, not the prankee (especially me, I hated being pranked). That night, I parked the car I shared with my sister outside of Camille's house for the night. The next morning, before the sun was even up, one of Camille's parents came to wake us up to tell us that my car had been pranked and we had better come look.

I think I was thinking that the car would look somewhat wedding style, with saran wrap and cookies and whipped cream spelling things on the windows. Not so. The boys who had pranked us had poured a huge, I correct myself, massive amount of mustard down the front of the car. Now, let's recall the season. Instead of just making a mess on the hood of the car, like they had intended, the mustard had instead seeped under the sides of the hood and frozen into all the crevices possible underneath the hood. Not good. No, not good at all.

I was FURIOUS. I remember screaming and crying and saying that I hated whoever had done this (I know who it is now, it didn't take us long to figure it out, smart girls that we were. Perhaps the people who we had been pranking? Yeah, smart, I tell you.) I basically threw a colossal 16 year old fit. I was afraid that my parents and my sister were going to be so angry at me for ruining the car and even more so, I was mad that someone would do this to me.

The three or four of us sopped up as much as we could with paper towels and then waited till morning to drive the car to a car wash. I pathetically rolled down my window to ask the attendant if I could pop the hood and run the car through like that. Ha ha, poor me.

Well, it didn't take long to realize the humor in the situation. The car was just fine. In fact, my sister, the tight wad that she is, still drives it to this day. I really remember thinking, "why in the world did you cry so much over this? Why did you get so angry? You really over-reacted!" I had the option to remain positive and laugh at the prank that had been pulled on me from the beginning, but I didn't.

Now, I know this is a silly example. But I have thought a lot about that dumb experience a lot over the years and how I could have reacted differently. There are some people who just have a positive reaction from the beginning, something uplifting to say, or something happy to think regardless of what their situation is. I want to be one of those people, but I am still learning.

The person who first comes to mind is my dear brother-in-law Chris. Chris, despite a brain tumor that took so much from him, including his speech, his ability to walk, his dignity, and ultimately his life, never complained. One of my favorite Chris-isms was his ability to spin things into a positive light, no matter what they were. As he was heading into surgery to remove his tumor, he shouted "Hasta La Vista Baby!" and waved at everyone sobbing for him with a big grin on his face. Chris also had only "good" and "better" days. Nothing less. How telling of the individual that he was.

Me, well, I have "bad" days all the time. Something I want to work on is being more like Chris, more positive in whatever it is that I am going through, whether something as silly as frozen mustard in my engine, a terrible day at work, or something as life changing as serious illness.

Here's to having "good" or "better" days all the time!