I am not filled with flowery words tonight, but I want to write on the topic of choosing. For example, the older I get, the more I realize I don’t know. Sometimes it bothers me that my mind, my only tool with which to perceive life, is inadequately informed about the world. But other times it intrigues me–makes me want to keep living–and isn’t that all we can ask for? I love that I don’t know everything. I choose to be interested in life so it keeps interesting me.
I used to be a very optimistic person. It used to be my natural state of being. And then I guess life happened: family problems, deaths of loved ones, a broken heart, and eventually mental illness. I lost the piece of myself that naturally looked on the bright side. Although I’ve come a long way from my darkest moments, I still tend to default back to pessimistic thoughts about humans, the world, and life.
What I’ve learned is that life happens, and you can’t always control it. When you’ve done all you can to make your life and your loved ones’ lives better, you have to rely on your imagination to look on the positive side of things. It’s your choice. It’s your responsibility. Look at yourself in the mirror and decide that the person staring back at you is worth being happy. And then, quite simply, with no self-help books, and almost foolishly, just be that way. Be happy. It’s a choice. And you deserve it.