September 19, 2016

My Lottery Ticket Life

Sometimes the Internet is a terrible place. A place that leaves me feeling like my life is not nearly as glamorous or exciting as I'd like it to be. A place that only serves to illuminate for the rest of the world everything I already believed was wrong with me, and how I'm not doing as well as so-and-so or having as much fun/success/whatever as someone else.

But using the Internet is a necessary evil for work and daily life so I press on, all the while attempting to maintain a healthy perspective and constantly trying to remember that we all struggle, and nobody's life is perfect. 

We're just bombarded with so many messages that have potential to leave us feeling less than. It's like a perfect storm sometimes.

But other times the Internet is wonderful. Serving as a way to connect us, acting as a vehicle to bring us stories and information we would have never otherwise encountered. 

Yesterday, I came across an interview on NPR with John Krasinski, the actor who played one of my all time favorite TV characters, Jim Halpert. In the interview he used the phrase "lottery ticket life" when referring to the level of success he has achieved. I guess he feels like he doesn't deserve it....that it was some sort of fluke, like winning the lottery. 

That phrase "lottery ticket life" really stuck with me and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. 

Something else I read yesterday was an article by Maria Shriver, in which she talked about how she's giving up complaining about the so-called mistakes her parents made during her childhood. She even referenced Alison Piepmeier and her poignant piece about being grateful for the beautiful life she was able to live.

Alison passed away recently, and while I didn't really know her, we were from the same place and that counts for something. 

So what's the point of all this rambling?

Not too long ago my husband and I had a fight. Everyone argues of course, but this one was a doozy. Let's just say it ended with one of us slamming the door in the other one's face and the other giving the door slammer a gesture involving a certain finger. Please know this is not how we typically behave. And would you believe it was just a little can of LaCroix fizzy water that started it all? Pamplemousse if you were wondering. But these things happen. And I think we're doing the world a disservice by pretending they don't.

Marriage is hard. Relationships are hard. Communicating is hard. It doesn't mean we give up, but sometimes in the midst of the struggle, it doesn't look so pretty. 

Later that day after our fight, when the situation had blown over, we met back up to find that each of us had decided to surprise the other with a treat of a cool drink - the gift of the Chik-fil-a iced tea magi if you will. 

All is now forgiven, and we've moved on from it, but it's important to me to remember it. Even in the middle of these silly blow-ups, or whatever other petty things might present themselves, I still believe I, too, have a lottery ticket life.

It has nothing to do with being happy all the time, but everything to do with being grateful. Heck, even actual lottery winners aren't any happier (according to this article).

I might not be the star of a TV show, or a Kennedy. But I have so much to be thankful for. The anniversary of September 11th always manages to put that into perspective too. I feel almost guilty for this because it comes up every year and leaves me feeling such a great deal of clarity...for awhile. But chances are, once that tender rawness has passed, we all just go right back to our weird little ways of coping, often losing our cool over dumb stuff, making mountains out of molehills, and just having an unhealthy lack of perspective.

All the decisions we make add up the person we are. Every little tiny thing we do over the course of a day adds up to who we are becoming. Every little choice we make. Every reaction we have to every situation in which we find ourselves.

This occurred to me this morning when I walked out the front door of my house and promptly sloshed a big cup of coffee down the front of my shirt. I have to be honest, my first reaction was to get mad. I looked down at my beautiful peach shirt and saw the ugly brown stain. But my very next thought was this: Don't be the kind of person who gets mad over something as silly as a spilled cup of coffee.

Because if I allow myself to be that kind of person, it's like giving that mouse a cookie. It will open a floodgate of other ways I will allow myself to waste precious energy being upset for no reason. Where will it end?

I don't want to be the kind of person who gets mad over things that don't matter. A student at a local university recently felt so hopeless that he jumped off a pedestrian bridge on campus, taking his own life. THIS is something to get upset about it. That a soul would feel so lost, so hopeless. There's no shortage of stories that break my heart all to pieces.

All you have to do is turn on the news for one minute to see some horrific story about people struggling, suffering, and really hurting. But I don't want to have to always be comparing my life to others to see the good in it. I want it to be able to stand alone as something to be thankful for. No comparisons.

I may as well have won the lottery.