Tag Archives: disappointment

Awry

Awry: (adj & adv) away from the planned or expected course; amiss.

What we all are trying to avoid in our journey is the sensation of disappointment.dictionary with letter A

We can survive tragedy, mayhem, struggle, poverty and anything that falls from the sky as long as we did not have great expectation that it would ever happen.

Even though I know it is popular to have big dreams, huge goals, and make presumptuous statements about the success of our lives, nothing could be any more detrimental to us than to look at what has happened to us, assume that everything went totally awry, and for us to sit in a huge puddle of muddy disappointment.

So what’s the key? How can we avoid disappointment, which cripples our faith?

  1. Don’t have a goal–have a direction.

As you head off in that direction, goals will pop up which you can pursue. But when you assume that your goal has to be achieved, Mother Nature will be more than happy to pour water on your fire.

  1. Have at least three plans.

In other words, if this works, I can do this. But if I get this opportunity, then I can achieve this level. And if it all comes in, by the grace of God, we get the whole enchilada with cheese sauce.

  1. Keep in mind, mankind is watching.

More opportunities will come your way if you’re a good loser. Even though we insist that we admire the winner, we spend a lot of time watching the “trailers,” and what they do next.

  1. And finally, be grateful.

I know it sounds silly to be grateful for a fiasco or when your plans go awry, but most of the things in our lives which we now possess did not come to us as a whole.

They arrived in pieces and we puzzled them together.

Life by its very purpose is intended to create a situation where “the greatest laid plans of mice and men” go awry.

Mice run and hide in embarrassment.

But intelligent humans look for a way to use the surprises to create new dreams.

 

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Alcove

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Alcove: (n) a recess typically in the wall of a room or garden.

What an interesting definition. I always thought an alcove was more like a little chunk out of the mainland, where water creeps its way in, creating a still, calm environment.

Far be it from me to disagree with Mr. Webster–but since you have his definition, let me talk about mine.

I thought it was magical. Out on Hoover Lake, near Columbus, Ohio, there was this place. Maybe I’d better call it a spot. It was just an area of water near the shoreline, indented–about the size of two swimming pools–where we used to go fishing. We found it every time. After all, we thought it was magical.

There was a tree sticking up out of the lake, rocks along the shoreline, and the water was not terribly deep, so it was perfect for catching fish. I always believed it was kind of like a “resort area” for the little swimmers to go to–not suspecting there would be wise fishing souls like myself, to catch them on a hook.

I don’t really know if the fishing was better in that particular alcove. But I convinced myself it was. Matter of fact, I learned that the true magic in life is often in convincing yourself of something pretty good, so you can bring your heart and soul to the mission.

Catfish were in that alcove. I loved to catch ’em. I was a little squeamish about taking the hook out of their mouths because they have those barbs that can stick you. Often we used bread dough or a corn muffin as bait, because the catfish weren’t picky.

And it was easy to row over to the shoreline, get out of the boat, stretch your legs, take a good pee, and in just a minute, be back to the business of fishing.

I do remember being disappointed one afternoon when another boat came into our sacred turf. It felt defiling. How could it be special if other people discovered it?

But fortunately, they didn’t stay long. Completely missed out on the magic.

Isn’t that like life? One man’s alcove is another man’s disappointment.

So I apologize to Mr. Webster if I have misused the definition. But I’m afraid, considering my age, that I will continue to believe that my magical alcove on Hoover Lake is the vacation home of many a fishy possibility.