The picture above is from the cover of a book once owned by my dad. Like me, he is not a naturally sunny character, and I remember the two of us laughing together when I was quite small about the ludicrously deluded little optimistic boy.
As 2017 begins, I’ve realised that perhaps the young poo-shoveller had a point after all. That it is always worth looking for the ‘hidden gift’ in even the most unpromising situations.
Just to be clear, I’m aware of how fortunate I am. Of all the 2016s to be experienced, mine was probably in the top 0.0001% in the world. I had a great time! But I don’t think I was being melodramatic to feel a sense of mourning for the pre- post-truth world. Amid the fear and confusion, my coping mechanism was to simply sit and stare at social media to try to understand it all. And there was so much to see! One week, the all-female Ghostbusters cast are accused of ruining people’s childhoods, the next, here’s dear old Marmite being trolled for trying to sabotage Brexit, or something. I learned nothing, but I did develop a sick, compulsive fascination for watching feelings triumph over facts.
That’s where 2016 “touched” me. As well as ending up exhausted and broke, watching people scream at each other made me more terrified than ever of writing anything myself. For a freelancer who earns a living from writing, this isn’t a good state of affairs. I love to write and share opinions, and my business requires me to be visible, but after last year I’d sooner burrow myself away for eternity than express my views.
Well, I got over it, clearly. The turning point came when I watched another unedifying row unfold, but this time much closer to home. I’m in a Facebook group for freelance translators, and after the founder announced that he needed to make some changes last month, some people got angry and naturally, I pulled up a chair. Later that day, after noticing that I’d flushed four prime billable hours down the toilet, I remembered that what I loved most about said Facebook group was its absolute insistence on self-responsibility. That we can choose how we react to things. And that we serve ourselves and the world much better if we look for the hidden gift inside a seemingly negative situation — an idea that I’d always found quite annoying, of course. But I knew that my reaction to 2016 was far from responsible, and I had to sort it out.
It took me a few weeks, but I’ve finally found my hidden gift! It’s not much, but here it is:
The vengeful nature of social media makes overcoming the fear of self-expression even more rewarding.
Writing something personal wouldn’t feel like much of an achievement if the audience was always rational, kind and encouraging, would it? If it’s anything like last year, 2017 is going to give me some serious uphill torque in building those expressive muscles, and learning to worry less about what other people think. I’m going to choose to be grateful for that, and also to those who’ve been out there for years, getting it done. Happy new year!