There are few things that get under my skin more than overly optimistic bubbly people and their ever chipper and cliched status updates/tweets/blogs/greetings/answering machine messages/texts/greeting cards... etc etc. At best, I want to force these blithe purveyors of sunshine to be forced into a room and listen to their sentiments on infinite loop. Preferably autotoned. At worst, I want to meet their doom by a pack of machete-wielding bears. While these people bob along through a sea of comfort and seeming oblivion that there is any pain or problems anywhere in the galaxy, I can't remember the last time I felt like I was floating down a river of fairy dust.
I'm not necessarily a complainer by nature. I'm more of a head-down-leave-me-alone-and-get-the-job-done type. But rarely, if every, have I ever thought, "you know, life is so wonderful I need to dance around like a court jester and infest everyone else with toxic bubbly sappy sentiments!" For a long time I thought that maybe I am just destined to be a cynic. But I never liked accepting this, because I'm also generally pretty good natured and optimistic. And the more I soul searched and wrestled, the more I realized that what drove me to manic hysteria and ire at these people is that their sentiments have an undercurrent of being Lucky. And I do not believe in luck.
Anyone who believes they are truly happy because of what life has dumped in their lap either a) isn't living up to their potential, or b) is too blissfully ignorant to know
any different. Hard work is what works. And hard work is scary. And there is no place for ignorance with it.As one who refuses to live inside her comfort zone, I am all too aware of this. And therefore maliciously resent those who lump my success in with their "happiness-as-luck" axioms. I have often been told that I should "feel fortunate for the opportunities" I have had. "Fortunate" is not the word I would use. I feel proud. I feel accomplished. I feel like the hours, days, months, years I spent outside my comfort zone were worth it. And that is where magic that surpasses all the cupcakes and butterflies and rainbows happens. That is where you fly attack helicopters, and have dinner with presidents and kings. Outside one's comfort zone is where you win jersey's and race with the big boys. It's where you earn fellowships and move thousands of miles for love. Where the magic happens, one never rests on their laurels, and never tweets about how great their life is at this moment. Because, unlike the bubbly river of optimistic ignorance, the place where the magic happens is not predictable. There are no flower lined banks. There is just lots of chaos and wrestling and grabbing at what could possibly be next. But when you find your way through the darkness, it is not just rainbows that you get.... it's magic.
Someone once told me that luck was "preparedness for opportunity." So going into this next chapter, I am preparing myself. And there will be no babble about sunshine and irreverent goodness. But I guarantee there will be magic.
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