the five of cups

what the pain of small disappointments teaches us about gratitude

I am, for the most part, a positive person. Or so I’d like to believe. In reality, I can be kind of a drag.

No, I’m not going to ruin our fun night out. I wear bright colors. I smile a lot. I probably wear too much glitter eyeshadow. And if you need a friend to lean on, I’m there, full-stop. But underneath an expertly cultivated exterior, my mind is minefield.

I hate making mistakes.

We all make mistakes. You fumble a meeting, forget the butter, miss a return. I’d never shame you. In fact, I’d probably send you a YouTube on better negotiation skills, a cool app for making lists, or offer to gather up our returns (I’m gonna be returning something to Amazon, anyways). I’m so supportive, it’s effortless. It’s cool. It’s so nice being my friend.

So why the hell am I not as nice to me?

It’s great and all, being this great friend. But when I stumble (and I do, quite lot), I found myself the victim of a torrent of emotions. Make a mountain of it? Call me Everest. Every shameful thing starts flashing through my mind’s eye like a bad music video edit. All I can do is focus on the mistake in front of me. Three big spilt cups. What an effing mess.

I’m a mess.

No, you’re not. Well, yes, maybe you are. And you’re also trying. And also, the sky is not gonna fall. The ground is not going to swallow you whole. The world is not lurking in corners, ready to jump out and yell “GOTCHA, A MISTAKE!” (And if there is someone around who feels good about doing that, well, they’re an asshole.) The reality is, I’m judge and jury. Athlete and referee. Whatever I say, in my mind, goes.

So instead of focusing on those three spilt cups, what would happen if I stepped back and asked, “Gee, what did I learn here?” It’s okay to state the obvious:

“This sucks.”
“I hate mistakes.”
“I am wildly uncomfortable in the human condition.”
"I AM NOT OKAY.”

And then settle on some lessons. Even if it’s just as simple as, I won’t do that again. Contemplate the two full cups next time. Well, at least I have FillInTheBlank.

I promise you, it gets better. You won’t tornado out into a shame spiral. It may be a little dervish, for a while. But eventually, you’ll contemplate those spilt cups and then move on.