Choices

I am acquainted with a particular mantra: "Happiness is a choice." Frankly, I think it's crap. Happiness is a complex and elusive thing, and (dare I say it) worrying about being happy is just about the biggest waste of time I can think of. Happiness is not a choice; it's a side-effect of doing what's right and brave and good and loving. Chase after happiness, instead of focusing on honor and courage and goodness and love, and all you get is out of breath. And even more miserable than you were before.

However, many things legitimately are choices, in my opinion. One of them is how you look at the things that happen to you. Within rational limits, you do have a choice of whether you look at the ups and downs of your life as good or bad things. This is in no way to be construed as saying you should chirp fatuously about genuine pain and crisis, and how they are lovely opportunities for personal growth, gosh, you bet! Some things just plain hurt, and hurt bad, and that pain needs to be respected, not belittled or waved away. But for a lot of the daily things, you can choose. And it is important what choice you make.

Here's an example. Today I almost, a-l-m-o-s-t got a story accepted by a market I've wanted for years to crack. They really liked the story; they even asked me to send them another. Upon reading the email, I had a few choices for what I could think:

• Damn. Rejected AGAIN. Damn, damn, damn. I'm humiliated and I suck.
• Oh, well. At least they gave me some positive feedback. *sigh*
• Woo-hoo! That was really close! Progress! Now I know more about what this market wants! Woo-hoo! And I definitely don't suck!

Guess which one is going to not only help me cope, but keep me writing — and writing better and better. Just guess. Uh-huh.