Disappointment Strikes

"You've made the mistake," the book publisher said, "of thinking everything that happens to you is interesting."

Ok, so that publisher didn't actually say that to me. He said it to Anne Lamott (before she hit it big).  But it hardly matters.  I can relate. 

I always pause for a second (which in this case, was actually three days) before I publish something that might seem better suited for a diary. There's enough people posting their personal baggage on facebook already; you don't need to hear mine.

But Lamott has sold a lot more books (many) than I have (none) talking about what she learned from life's petty struggles.  If people will read about her funny stories and spiritual lessons from the unfortunate messes in her life, well then, maybe, just maybe, you'll be interested in taking 10 minutes to hear about mine.

You see, I had this illusion that I had some control over one aspect of my life.  Things had been going well in my professional life, and I had sort of had the whole future mapped out in my head.  There was a clear path to even bigger things ahead.  But all of it vanished with one sudden announcement last week. 

The details aren't that important.  I worked hard for something, and it didn't work out for me, for reasons I don't entirely understand. And I'm not talking about my divorce from Bleacher Report.  This is something that actually matters. 

It isn't a tragedy.  The sun will come up tomorrow, and my health and family are just fine.  But it still sucks.

The world looked one way last week; it looks different now, and the change isn't for the better. 

Disappointment comes from the crashing realization that life is going to be something different than what we had planned or from that to which we felt entitled. It is the downside of having dreams.

I'm a big dreamer, so I've been disappointed often. And it never stops to hurt.

Still, my complaints are minor compared to most everyone else I know.  Almost everyone in my circle is dealing with some major negative life drama.  For some, it's the loss of a friend, for others, it's a poisonous work environment, a troubled marriage or the health of a relative. Almost everyone has obstacles they didn't sign up for.

If you can relate, I'm sorry. 

But there's something oddly therapeutic about big disappointments. The refocus our attention on what matters. They provide a reason to retreat to a quiet place (or in my case, a Mexican restaurant) and have a conversation with our souls. In my case, the conversation is occurring over a margarita, which is an added bonus.

Disappointments are a chance to learn from our mistakes (perceived or actual) and use our spiritual side to put the pieces back together.

For my situation, I went through the requisite stages of grief: anger, depression, bargaining. I haven't reached acceptance yet, but I have reached the point of asking myself, "what's next?"

I haven't figured that out yet. 

What I have figured out is that things feel five percent better when a friend offers to take me out for drinks or calls to ask how I'm doing.  Until things get better, sometimes the only thing that helps is to find someone who is willing to listen. And when the tide passes and you feel like yourself again, it's twice as sweet to celebrate good times with someone who has seen the other side.  

One thing I've learned is that most of the good things we get in life come either without our feeling worthy of them, or or only long after we feel like we deserve them, but usually not in between. 

So until your ship comes in, or your problems settle down, the best thing you can do is abide in the company of those who love you. Or have a margarita. 

Or maybe both, at the same time.  If you don't have such a friend, well, I'll be down at Las Maracas this weekend.  And I could use the company.