I know a woman who’s smart, educated, interesting, kind, generous and knowledgeable about many things.
I avoid her like the plague.
Because, unfortunately, she never stops complaining.
To her, the glass is never half empty. It’s just empty, period, or filled with a beverage that’s flat, too carbonated, too sweet, too sour, had an odd taste, is overfilled, is underfilled, has too much ice, has too little ice or just plain looks funny.
For years, I struggled with my feelings, because I genuinely like and admire her, but I’ve found I just can’t be in her company without wanting to throw one of us in front of a bus.
Her world is full of “buts …” The trip would have been nice, but the drive was too long. The food was good, but the restaurant was too noisy. The hotel was too hot, the bed hurt her back, the ocean waves were too noisy and the room service was too slow.
Now, I’ve been known to pitch a fit about things from time to time, especially involving two immature human beings who keep living in my house.
But I try to remain optimistic and positive about life, and seek out friends who are the same.
There’s been scientific research lately revealing that people who seek out reasons to be grateful for their lives are actually happier when they do, and I believe that’s true.
Maybe you were stuck in traffic for two hours on the way home, but consider this: You have a car and a house waiting for you.
Maybe the orange chicken at your favorite Chinese restaurant wasn’t as good as you expected, but you’re not standing outside a soup kitchen, waiting to be fed.
Chronic complaining seems to take over your life if you let it, sneaking in, seeping into your brainwaves, and then actually making your life worse, by setting up negative thought patterns that hurt you and drive others away.
I still remember several years ago when I was in the hospital recovering from brain tumor surgery. (I don’t recommend this as a pastime, by the way, though, again, the alternative would have been much worse.)
I’d written a humorous column about the experience of discovering I had a brain tumor – “I can’t have a brain tumor, I’ve got dinner on the stove,” that I later discovered was picked up by bloggers and read all around the world.
I got mail from everywhere and, in retrospect, the column was pretty funny about an otherwise grim topic. People told me that it cheered them up, for which I was very grateful.
That response only made me feel compelled to write yet another funny column after the surgery, which wasn’t as easy as you might think, considering I was lying in Intensive Care looking like the Bride of Frankenstein, with 14 staples holding the back of my head together.
But I spent nine days in the hospital with a notebook by my bed, looking every minute for funny things to write about, and the interesting thing was: It made me feel better.
Being forced to look on the bright side of brain surgery improved both my mood and my outlook.
Yes, my doggone head hurt like I’d been attacked by Jack the Ripper.
On the other hand, I wasn’t dead. The nurses were angels. My HMO paid for everything. The tumor was benign. And the whole experience actually made me appreciate my life so much more than before.
When you become gravely ill, you also learn who your real friends are, very quickly. They’re the ones who are watching your kids, bringing Thai food to the hospital and combing your hair.
That’s a great weeding-out process for the rest of your life.
Funny how things work out, right? I would not go back and erase that brain tumor, even if I could. (My column: Things I Learned From My Brain Tumor.)
One thing I’ve noticed about people as they grow older is that they sometimes allow their aches and pains to consume them, so they have nothing else to say.
I’m trying not to become one of them, because there’s nothing more tedious than listening to someone else’s health complaints.
Yeah, maybe your right foot fell off last week but, hey, your left foot is doing fine, and think how much stronger it will be now that you’re hopping everywhere.
The sad thing is that, when people give in to this way of thinking, their world shrinks, because people start avoiding them, or visiting less often.
I remember many years ago, when I had a boyfriend who was a big jerk. One close friend used to listen to me whine about him 100 times a day, until she just snapped.
“Either break up with him, or leave me out of it,” she told me. “I’m tired of listening to the griping.”
Her honesty made a big impression on me, and I did dump him shortly thereafter.
Journalists tend to be big complainers, which is one way of coping with our stressful, uncertain, poorly paid but rewarding jobs.
Still, I really don’t want to hear it. Years ago, I stopped going to lunch with people who always wanted to use it as a gripe session, and I tell people outside of work that I don’t want to talk about our jobs when I’m not on the clock.
I also instituted a rule at my dinner parties: NO talking about work.
It can be a bit hard for people to follow at first, because we’re all very engaged with our jobs. But people also have lives, read books, see movies, go hiking, watch TV, and after they get used to the shocking idea that they can’t sit around my table and complain about our boss, they get over it and talk about “Game of Thrones” instead.
Just like the people at my parties find something else to talk about when they can’t complain, cultivating a grateful attitude shifts your mental focus away from what’s frustrating you, and toward what makes you happy.
It turns you from a victim to a winner.
Keeping a “gratitude journal” where you record good things in your life, or that happen to you daily, can help you recall how much better your world is than you think.
Nowadays, there are even smartphone apps, like the free “Notes to Self”, that encourages you to take a few moments every day to jot down things for which you’re grateful, good things that happen to you and “random acts of kindness.”
Some people take “gratitude walks” every day, where they reflect on their lives in a positive way.
I like this idea. I’m going to try it.
And, when all else fails, a glass of wine beats complaining any day. And, no, you can’t complain about the wine. That’s just going too far.
Contact the writer: mfisher@ocregister.com or 714-796-7994
