What Do You Do With Disappointment?
Disappointment is not one of those things I think I can master. Some people have a high threshold for pain, some have an elastic limit of tolerance before they snap, some can handle solitude to a certain degree and then seek company. All of these things are things you can prepare for, estimate, forecast, make room for. Yet when it comes to disappointment; things not going as planned, someone performing below expected standards; even if I saw it coming, it still stings, in a fresh way like a new cut, every time. It still creates a moment for which I want time to stop while I ponder on the injustice, unfairness and just… plain wrongness of the situation.
I find that classifying and qualifying my disappointment always happens after the fact. It is only after I have been disappointed that I start to realise that I should have seen this coming. Worse still, I may have seen it coming, but some naive optimism would have kept me expecting more, or maybe just plain old ostrich tactics. In some cases, I even made contingency plans, knowing it was a valid possibility that I would be disappointed. Yet, when eventually it does happen, I still find myself in some version of self-directed angst. Whether in the shape of “how did you not see this coming?” or “why would you even bother?”, I end up putting the weight on myself to have known better. In some cases where it is totally unexpected and I even think at the time “wow! There was no way I would have known to expect this!”, I find that my thoughts somehow turn back to questioning why I didn’t expect it; and then kicking myself for being so open, vulnerable, trusting…. Even for things as mundane as not anticipating bad weather and failing to pack an umbrella.
Obviously, I am my own worst critic. And I have met a lot of people who share the same trait. We are so quick to forgive other people, make excuses for suboptimal situations, and even doubt ourselves in favour of letting someone else off the hook. We struggle to realise that there is a lot that isn’t within our control, to understand that the bow to be nicely tied on top of our pain does not have to be a conclusion of our own flaws and a new detailed roadmap to make sure we never find ourselves in a situation where that happens again.
Don’t get me wrong, I am a staunch advocate of self-improvement. But now I’ve learned to question my motivation a bit deeper. Do I think that the better I become, the more immune I’d be to disruptions in my life, disappointment from people, failed plans, externally-induced pain? Or do I think that by working on myself, I have the fortitude and nettle it takes to stay standing and even rise above when I meet a roadblock? Should I spend my energy berating myself and planning how bullet-proof I’ll be for the next time, or should I learn to be adaptable and recognise that the road to my answer might not look exactly the way I envisioned and that doesn’t mean the alternative route doesn’t have a view?
I started to practise this with small disruptions; traffic, cancelled meetings after I’m dressed and in the car, cooking experiments gone bad, my recently decorated cake that fell face down from a 1m tall table to the ground…. I tried to give myself just enough room to be upset knowing the next move was totally mine and would determine the end of the story. We deal with these things so differently, but I think there’s a lot of room to compare notes on healthy options to cope. I was discussing this topic with someone recently who finds the bigger disappointments easier to deal with and recover from than the little irritations. Go figure!
But my big thing here is, rather than punish myself for things that have happened outside of my control, I must take responsibility for those within my sphere of control. No more “It’s my fault for expecting more”. I think that’s a defeatist mindset shrouded in faux-personal responsibility. I’d be more comfortable knowing I was true to myself, gave the benefit of the doubt and made room for the possibility of a good experience whether or not disappointment was ahead. This is not to be mistaken for setting myself up as a doormat, I must add. And I hope you can tell the subtle but powerful difference.
2020 is a great playing field for us to practice this. The fact that you’re reading this now tells me you’ve rolled with the punches so far. Great job! But let’s take it one step further. Don’t put the burden of premonition on yourself. “I should have known better” does nothing for you. You are where you are and you need to go where you need to go.
I almost fell into this trap when I read news of the new restrictive measures to combat Covid-19, and realised that it meant my supper club plans had been impacted. I instantly started to feel regret. Why did I think this was a good time to launch this blog and these supper clubs?
But I remembered my resolution, reminded myself to roll with it, because going back was not an option. I made adjustments, and while the new plans don’t look anything like the ones on the drawing board as we comply with the government guidelines, the main objectives are being met. People need communion and connection - now more than ever. And the finer details will not change that. A quick check showed the level of excitement and keenness has not waned. If anything, it’s heightened knowing this is a window of fresh air amidst a pseudo lockdown situation. What’s within my control is the yumminess of the food and the comfort and cosiness of the room. That I can handle! And if the food falls down, we’ll have a plan B!
But make no mistake. Some days and some cases are not so simple. Sometimes the recovery time is not as swift as I would like or even as it had been in the past. People who know me know me as an adaptable person. I typically am quite solution-oriented. And as far as I was concerned that was just what I needed to survive in this big bad world. But guess what? Some disappointments press the pause (or even stop) button on your usual groove. Some pain robs you of your get-up-and-go spirit. Some spanners ruin your wheels and you don’t glide quite as smoothly afterwards. What do you do then?
