One of the greatest disappointments of 2022 thus far is having to cancel our January trip to Hawaii. My husband and I got engaged on Maui's shore, and we enjoy going back to the islands at least every other year. This trip would have stretched through the end of January, and we were going with friends who live in another state. They had never been. We shared excited phone calls about the culture, pace, and experiences we could try.
Most of our friends either have children or don't have the means to travel. We finally found another kid-free couple to share a trip with, but circumstances didn't allow. For all the countless others who've had to cancel long anticipated trips, I feel your pain. Our friends were still able to go and enjoy a week, but I was tempted to mope on the sofa the rest of the month. Hearing the whales sing while free diving is an inexplicable experience, and was missing it. And so, I dwelled on what I couldn't do.
After a day of Tetris and comfort food, I did what I knew God would want me to do: I started counting my abundant blessings instead of feeling sorry for myself.
For one, we are flexible enough to simply move the trip later in the year. The whales won't be there, but the sun and culture aren't going anywhere. I can write/freelance anywhere, and my husband can work fully remote if he chooses. If we weren't home, we would have missed out on several opportunities to connect with family. Hub's niece visited from out of state, so we were able to see her for the first time in two years. We had more family over for grilling on another day, and I was able to spend a Sunday with my mom learning to play MahJong: the most time I've spent with her one-on-one in years. I've been at the charity twice a week sorting clothes and was able to encourage a downhearted woman doing community service.
None of this would have been possible from the middle of the Pacific. I am needed here for now. I may have missed out on a trip, but I gained memories—all because of a prayer: God, show me what I'm supposed to do here instead.
We all have a choice to let setbacks and disappointment paralyze us or see what new opportunities surface in its wake. I still struggle with the thought, "I should be hiking Mauna Kea right now" but I refuse to let depression have a foothold. A quiet moment of self-pity here and there, sure. Entire days? Not me.
It's not easy to pull joy out of disappointment, but I want to get better at it before the next true setback hits. Rescheduling a trip is a minor issue. Breaking another bone and rehab? Serious illness? Losing another loved one soon? Always possible, but I hope not. Practicing joy for whatever-the-next-mess-is sounds like a better use of time.
May we all find potential in the struggles and setbacks. There are other options besides staying down. Seek and you shall find.
Keep on smilin'!
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