When I got the text message explaining why things weren’t going to work out, I could almost physically feel the heartbreak. For a couple of weeks I had been living a life that was pretty much perfect, sipping free coffee, reading intriguing books, going on one particularly outrageous date, everything to make this girl’s heart explode with joy. But perfection seldom lasts. Chaos came and showed her face and all the little things that were so wonderful slowly came apart, day by day chaos devoured my perfect little puzzle of wonder, until in the end there was nothing left of it.
After I had read the bible sized text, I felt like doing what every heartbroken girl does best: watch Bridget Jones and eat ice cream with some red wine on the side. But I didn’t.
Instead, I chose to spend time securing long-term happiness, rather than short-term satisfaction (followed by guilt, as it often is).
My mind went from “Dear lord, how the fuck did this happen?” to “Well, it happened, so what’s next?”. And off the mind went, thinking about the future. Thinking of the possibilities. Deciding on whether or not I’d be able to stay in contact with the person who had just brought me bad news. And with some flashes of slight worry about how I was going to survive without free Colombian filter coffee in between, I thought up a plan of action.
Connecting with wonderful people. Talking to strangers. Walking until my legs are shaking. Drinking wine and reading books. Taking photos of things that fill my soul with wonder. Discovering new kinds of music. Dancing in the kitchen. Filling my mind with information I’d never expect to interest me, but it does, and all-round knowledge is beautiful. Writing and possibly collaborating with amazing other souls. Falling in love with people I’ll probably never meet (hello, hello and hello). Planning trips for the future, however close or distant they may be. Drawing. Singing at the top of my lungs (sorry neighbours).
And before I knew it, in this one December weekend I made up a whole plan for things I’d like to do more often in the new year. My troubles seemed more distant. My happiness closer. The fact that my mind has developed this switch – from troublesome worrying to the search of solutions – is the most helpful change I’ve gone through in a while, and I’m hopeful it may serve you as well. Steal it. Make it your own. Romance the solution-finding button in your brain.
Because it’s time to come to terms with the fact that life is too short to spend a whole weekend feeling sorry for ourselves when we could also be boogieing. Take life’s lemons. And rather than making lemonade, grab some tequila and a pinch of salt and make it a goddamn party.
All my love,