Today's such a dull day at work, boring, repetitive, last week I got this deceiving news that I can't be trained to be a specialist in the Intensive Care group. I wanted it so much, I was so happy when W. asked me if I'd have accepted it. I controlled myself, I tried to hold back the huge smile that was appearing on my face and I tried to look professional. All I said was "You know I'm not scared of moving around, I'm not scared of travelling and working hard. I'm eager to learn and to put my efforts in something I'm interested in. You know all this. On the other hand, be aware of the fact that I'm like a blank page. There's nothing written on it now but I'll make sure to fill it all and learn fast".
He was enthousiastic, so were my other colleagues. But once more my expectations were deceived. Some "superior reasons" that do not belong directly to my director but to some other not well defined powerful entity above him, decided I have to look after another project, which will be clearly made up in April. My secret spies provided me some hints, which anyway didn't satisfy me much. It seems to be more or less what I'm doing now, with some other features yet to be determined. I hope I'll travel more, hope I'll have more chances to show what I'm able to do, to show it to myself first.
I was deceived at first, because the Intensive Care business is just so extremely motivating. However, I'm unable to be sad for long. Efforts bring satisfactions, if this is not the right moment it will come later. I'm patient, happily it seems I can find reasons to be happy almost everywhere.
I can't quite understand people who deny their happiness, smother every single chance they have to grab a short moment of joy. And I can't stand people who spend most of their time complaining about what doesn't go as they wish instead of focusing on the positive sides of their lives.
I'm too stubbornly optimist, that's a fact.
Happiness hurts sometimes. The process of achieving happiness hurts, the loss of what makes us happy hurts and the plain fear of this loss hurts quite as much. Choosing to escape from happiness, is that a solution? will we suffer less? will we live more comfortably?
Or will we just live less?
I take my risks, I assume my responsibilities, I'm crazy enough to be scared of what's coming next yet to welcome this fear as the pure sign I am alive and perfectly conscient of the unknown consequences of my actions and feelings.
I live my emotions, I feel alive both in suffer and joy. My body burns and my mind can't contain all the energy and passion I've got, I'm not a passive spectator of my own life and I never will.
Isn't that a good enough reason to smile?
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