Disappointment
I don’t know where it got such a bad reputation.
Considering how common disappointment is, perhaps we need a new name for it.
Maybe we should just call it “normal.”
For I will tell you—the chances that what I expect, wish to do or hope occurs actually come off are very slim. It doesn’t mean I should not plan and does not mean that I shouldn’t jump up and down in gratitude when things do work out according to my dreams.
But disappointment is valuable.
Without disappointment, some people would never, ever do anything differently.
Disappointment is the way we get the opportunity to try new things.
Because once our first request is not available, we get introduced to a second possibility which often becomes our favorite.
Even in the world of love, how many struck oil with their first “digging” for a mate? No, sometimes it takes two. Three. (Dare I say ten?)
Disappointment is how life keeps things even, so we don’t start believing in ridiculous concepts—like “the chosen people” or “white privilege.”
For instance, I had some friends coming in from out of town, and I decided we would order in Chinese. I even had the list made. My mouth, mind and anticipation were leaning toward sweet-and-sour something or other. Then we discovered the Chinese restaurant is closed on Mondays.
Here’s the key:
What to do next
Does disappointment deserve a reaction?
Is there any benefit in taking a moment to be displeased, which often leads to the more permanent frowning profile of “discouraged?”
Matter of fact, I would be curious to know how many people right now have experienced disappointment today, have allowed themselves to be displeased and now feel a little discouraged?
This particular path renders us ineffective and unfriendly.
So since disappointment is coming, shall we have a plan? Should we pretend there won’t be disappointing outcomes? Or is it a better idea to already have put together ideas on how to proceed when disappointment ends up being “the appointment?”
I think so. Here’s what I do with disappointment.
Take my Chinese dinner, for instance. Once I was disappointed and learned the restaurant was not open, I completely disconnected from the idea of Chinese food. I took it as a blessed sign from the universe to try another option so I wouldn’t be experimenting with a new restaurant or disappointed with the pricing.
When disappointment comes, disconnect from your original idea.
Because if you cling to it, you’ll be displeased and therefore discouraged.
Once the disappointment of the Chinese restaurant was solidly confirmed in my mind, I disconnected from the option.
Then I went out to discover.
I asked that great question. Now that I don’t have what I thought I wanted, what can I discover which may end up being greater than what I might have gotten?
We decided to order in buckets of chicken from the Colonel. It was a good discovery. Simple, lots of sides, easy to eat, just throw away the trash at the end—and most people like at least some of the eleven herbs and spices.
I’m so happy–I just switched my taste buds to chicken.
After all, it is finger lickin’ good.
So when disappointment comes, you can choose to be displeased, but it will leave you discouraged.
Or with the arrival of disappointment, you can disconnect from your original concept and open the door to discover.
Jonathots Daily Blog 