(And having one.)
Here's some context: I've been back at college for 2 weeks since winter break. That first week back was wonderful. Seriously, it was pure bliss. I had my life somewhat together, I didn't have very much homework/ studying, and I was doing fun things with my friends every night. We went to see La La Land on a Wednesday night, and took an impromptu trip to Chicago on Sunday. The whole week, even when I had a rough ballet day or I was feeling tired, I kept thinking about what a great week it was. Even now, I've sort of forgotten about the less awesome or stressful things that happened that first week, and I just remember the good stuff. I had decided early on that it was the best week ever, and somehow, magically, it continued to be.
This past week? Not so much.
|this drawing isn't mine-- it's by marc johns (who is amazing)|
This past week I was forgetting things and making mistakes and feeling sluggish, and it all felt like a terrible trick the universe was playing on me because of how great the first week was. It got better and then worse, and then a lot better, and then a lot worse. As the week unraveled I kept thinking about how, as I moved through each day, I was labeling them all as either good or bad.
That brings me to today: another gloomy day, another semi-pessimistic Julia wishing everything was better than it was. And then, while mindlessly surfing Pinterest, I read this:
Was it really a bad day? Or was it a bad five minutes that you milked all day?I literally laughed a bit to myself as I trudged through my "bad day" because I realized that Pinterest was right and I was wrong. (Per usual). It was just a bad five (or ten, or twenty-five) minutes.
Adversely, my magically great week also had it's own cases of a 'bad five minutes'. When I really think about it, I can remember: one of my dance professors made us do a bunch of improvisation which scared the heck out of me, I was yelled at in jazz class, I stayed up way, way too late watching Sherlock (both good and bad), and ate a pretty serious amount of Qdoba followed by a pretty serious amount of Cheez-its. But it was still "the best week ever" because I decided it would be.
If you have a really bad five (or ten, or fourty-seven) minutes, I'm sorry. I did too today, and I will tomorrow, and I will the day after that. But instead of declaring it to be "the worst day ever" at 11:30 in the morning, give it another chance. It doesn't need to be "the best day ever" or anything crazy (do those actually exist?), but it could be a day filled with fifteen good minutes to counteract the five really bad ones. You can choose which ones to milk.
We can find optimism in any amount of minutes or seconds or moments if we just remember to actually look.
*this has been a "thought of the day" post, in which I dump my thoughts in the most eloquent way possible.