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| Because I had to go to the bathroom rather than scoop food he's perfectly capable of scooping himself. |
Some days are all sweet cuddles and playing happily together and reading books.
Other days, we have tantrums and territorial disputes over toys and Mama’s lap and Mama’s undivided attention.
Some days I’m patient and creative and happy. Other days I’m irritated and frustrated and exhausted, and I DESERVE A NAP.
I’m ok with having bad days now and then—they’re normal. They happen.
But after we returned from our trip to the U.S., the massive, lingering dose of jet lag exacerbated by a sleepless baby—along with the wonderful fun that is age three—sent me reeling into a series of bad days.
I’m a smiler, so it wasn’t a good sign when Joe had to ask me a few times if I was angry about something.
One morning, I retreated to my one respite, those few blessed moments alone in the shower, and I asked myself and God: Why am I so easily irritated lately? Why am I sour?
The answer hit me, and a weight lifted.
I went to find Joe and told him, point-blank: “I am entitled to nothing.”
“What?” he asked.
“I am entitled to nothing,” I said again. “I’m not entitled to an easy day or to time on my own to catch up on writing my backlog of blog ideas. I’m grateful for those things when they happen. But I am entitled to nothing.”
“You know that was Frank Underwood’s campaign slogan, don’t you?” Joe asked.
“What? Oh, Yeah. No, that was, ‘YOU are entitled to nothing.’” I reminded him. “This is different.”
“Oookaaay,” he said, going about his business.
I followed him. “I am not entitled to your love, but I’m really grateful you freely give it and choose to fulfill your vows,” I said. “I’m not entitled to good food and clean water, but it’s awesome that I have both, and that’s mainly an accident of birth. We’re not entitled to have someone clean our house, but I’m extremely grateful we can afford to employ Sheryl.”
He got the point.
When things go generally well in life, it’s easy for people to take it all for granted. Of course things go easily for me. When something snags, we get annoyed. When things take a turn, we ask, “WHY?!”
That whole day, I looked at everything through my new lens: I’m not entitled to hit all the green lights and avoid the reds. I’m not entitled to a morning without traffic, or to a spot in the fastest lane. I’m not entitled to a quick entry into the elevators when there’s a long line of people waiting. I’m not entitled to a perfectly-behaved 3-year old who doesn’t test his limits. I’m not entitled to a full night of sleep. I’m not entitled to U.S. prices in Hong Kong.
And guess what?
I felt joyful.
I felt happy.
I felt less stressed and less annoyed.
When I shifted my expectations to gratitude instead, I began to enjoy the day.
I suddenly recognized my default setting was a subconscious, subtle shade of sheer pride and selfishness, a product of human nature fostered by societies and advertisements that sell the idea that I deserve it.
Our culture is so ingrained with a "have it your way" philosophy that it's easy to expect just that out of more than just Burger King. And so each day has its share of disappointments, big and small.
I think humility may be the true secret to happiness. (So does David Brooks, by the way, in this awesome take down of high expectations.)
And funny enough, this was essentially the call of Christ: humility. To stop thinking we’re “good people” enough to deserve a suffering-free life on Earth and then Heaven for eternity, to stop thinking anything we could possibly do could earn us a relationship with God or a happy life, but rather to look at life as though the needs of others are just as pressing as—or more pressing than—our own. To sit back in gratitude for the perfect sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. For the love of family. For a sunny day. For a roof and a meal.
Now, to find a loving way to teach this to my 3-year old…
