NPR reported that 68% of Americans are pessimistic about the direction of our country. I'd say that's about accurate. I'm not pleased with the direction we're headed. (But why would you doubt that, Dear Reader, particularly with regards to a few of my previous posts?)
I used to think I was a happy-go-lucky optimist. I saw the bright side of most anything. At least, I thought I could. Now, however, I wonder if I had been mistaken, that somehow what I believed to be optimism was actually a subtle form of pessimism in the guise of a silver lining. Has it revealed itself because I am getting older? Is it because of a personality defect? Is it because of the state of our environment? Is it because I have children and I see my faults becoming apparent in them as they grown and mature?
Honestly, maybe my pessimism is based in a little of everything. Maybe as I've grown up, I've realized that there is no end in sight to our pollution and our plastic crisis and to climate change because big business won't change. Maybe I don't like the critical nature my boys both have because, in all fairness, I am the one who modeled it for them. Maybe I've realized that I've chosen honesty over kindness and in some instances I should just do the proper thing and be kind. Maybe, just maybe, most days I don't like the world and being pessimistic is a means for me to give a big F-YOU to everyone.
Following the path I've been on is easier. I've already made the ruts. My wheels are stuck. Perhaps I should strive to get off this worn road and practice smiling and nodding instead, like Aaron Burr: "Talk less. Smile more." It would not be easy, but since when did I ever do anything easy?
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