Some time ago I wrote on my being one of those glass half empty types. Perhaps you know the ones. Perhaps you are one. To summarize my findings and subsequent musings, here’s a snippet of the thoughts I shared upon being dubbed, at least in part, a pessimist:
There is risk in hoping for something too deeply only to see that longing unfulfilled, and it would seem that pessimism keeps me from hoping too greatly for that which will never be mine…
To a pessimist, the ideal [highlights] such a lacking that hope is lost rather readily. Whereas to live with that glass half full is to believe that hope is not that far removed. It is to live in the anticipation of favor over the dismal perspective of loss.
One would hope that I would have been able to learn from my own self-analysis and begin to make a turn towards optimism. Or at least, someone who chooses to respond more hopefully than in defeat. Yet it seems that since that time, December 2020, the circumstances of life have only grown increasingly more wearying.
Even some of the very things I alluded to in that writing as my taking great confidence in were brought to the very bottom. And when you sit at the bottom, regardless of how you might climb your way out, your view of any light is greatly diminished.
The other night I experienced another one of those glass half empty kind of moments in response to an inconsequential moment, particularly in contrast to the grand scheme of things, as the saying goes. The trigger was by no means a “bottom” experience, yet it struck me to the point of sharing my discouragement with Jordan. I feel even a bit foolish telling you of such a small blip, but simply that my photography newsletter, where I shared for the first time in any context outside of close friendships of two significant facets of life for us, had scarcely found its way to being opened. Spam being the culprit, where it had not before been an issue. Perhaps reader disinterest as well, but what should I expect having shut myself out of human interaction for several months time? I attempted to rectify the issue but, and understandably so, emails get buried and life stories are not necessarily anticipated to come via email. I admittedly felt discouraged, and by no means at anyone else but myself. While I would have liked to respond with an “Oh well” and continued to move along, I felt burdened and discouraged. Wanting to be heard but having no position to be given a voice. And just like that, in one technically orchestrated moment, I felt I had failed.
To succeed in something, at least the way our culture continues to perpetuate to us, is not to simply go out there and do it. Sure it starts there, and Instagram quotes remind us of that, but the engrained assumption is that once you get out there and do it, so long as you work hard and have sufficient talent, your efforts will reward you with measurable accomplishment.
Notice the word used here is not visual accomplishment, but measurable accomplishment. A needed distinction in our world of reels and stories where you can pretty viably make your pursuits look like they are working in your favor, even if you are measuring broke, on the rocks with your marriage, struggling to keep up a relationship with your children, and drowning in your businesses to-do list.
We can measure up beautifully, so long as we keep the visual element beautiful.
I have always struggled to “succeed” in art, which you might find slightly confusing in that I have years of music teaching, worship leading, songwriting, and even touring as a part of my story. While my artistic endeavors have brought about musical albums, image portfolios, and hundreds of worship services, none of them have been sustaining. Album sales and shows were never enough to turn songwriting into a career, photography is a constant struggle to garner clients, and while worship leading was the one area that pursued me far more than I pursued it, my last role sadly fell away from me by the ultimatum of my pastor. True, in each area I could have either focused on my craft more intentionally, marketed more aggressively, or simply led differently, but neither emphasis would have turned each pursuit into a sure thing. And my self-critical side could, and has, simply chalked it up to needing more natural talent.
So when my writings, a deep expression of myself, fall to the wayside, and my being burnt out – or at least not too keen on – trying to work the magical “pay attention to me” button, my response is far more prone to discouragement than the more desirable “Oh well, moving along…”. And in that is wrapped my understanding of self-worth and capacity to get results even when the effort is made.
Jordan graciously called me on my downtrodden response, though I found myself posing to him a question.
What is better? To hope for less or to respond to disappointment differently?
We are quick to tell people to go for it or take the risk or make it happen, but whatever verbiage you use, followed by whatever incredibly daring efforts you convince yourself and others to take to get there, there lies this beautiful underlying affirmation of hope. The only problem is that once hope, alongside effort, have been visually highlighted, we expect the visual to support the measurable. We expect success, and when the two don’t find themselves working in tandem, we are left with little less than disappointment and our untrained response to it.
For indeed, what are our most significant “glass half empty” moments except those where we are disappointed by the things most hoped for?
While I don’t care to justify it, I can understand my own pessimism. But not because I have dismissed hope, as my original musings suggest, but because I continue to hope far too readily. Encouraged by a time where we have disillusioned ourselves and others into believing that both heart and effort will result in successful, sustainable accomplishment. Not to mention that we parade around our success like it came about measuring healthy, when our children, our spouses, or our bank accounts would tell us otherwise. We fill each other with hope, and there is indeed great power and even necessity in that word, yet we don’t help each other understand how to tend to disappointment when what we strive for plays out differently than we expected.
So what then is better after all? To take the disillusionment out of hope, and so in essence lessening the presence of hope altogether, or adjusting the way we respond to disappointment and even inevitable failure?
A musing, it would seem, for another day. Honestly, I need to think about this one…
EXPOSITION: Do you find yourself most disappointed by the things you hope for?
RISE: Consider what predominant message you have received and see if it lines up. Do you expect effort, ambition, and talent to eventually make the turn from visual success to measurable success?
DENOUEMENT: Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12