Another Monday. Another week. Part of my brain wants to go into faux-super-optimism mode, like let this be the best week in your life, and each week will be better than the last! You’re going to be ridiculously super productive! Be the change you want to see! Then, I remember I have 4 hours of shovelling snow under my belt, and another 3 to go (thank you back-to-back snowstorms!). And that I haven’t gotten much Vitamin D lately. And it’s Monday.
I have no real solution for such days, except have some more coffee, and maybe stay away from the Chris Traegers in your life (there’s little that makes you feel worse than being pessimistic around a person who permanently radiates positivity). Especially when, in your fog of pessimism, any inkling of optimism comes across as a charade on the edge of crumbling, and you’re tempted to give it a push. Ok. Maybe not that extreme.
But we all have those days. And while it – your attitude, how you see the world, and your place in it – is a choice, it’s also not completely realistic to just say, think positive, be positive, embody optimism.
Aiming for middle ground, for a stoic approach to life, may be more attainable. To know awful moods and terrible events will pass, but so will euphoric and truly wonderful moments. You can’t banish foul moods, but you can see them for what they are: on a continuum of human experience, and constantly fluctuating.
PS. I’ve just introduced these new birch bark sketches in my shop.