on being happy

One unanticipated side-effect of working at a hospital - and intensively on call - is that you face a lot of tragedy.

This fourth of July weekend wasn't so great for everyone in San Diego. Moments that are supposed to be whimsical or silly or romantic or nothing at all get brutally twisted around into profoundly life-changing or life-ending moments. What is a fourth of July then? It shrinks into something meaningless.

Or not?

On my way to work early this morning, there was a psychologist talking about her book on positivity. She had studied survivors of 911 in NY and found that those who did best were positive-thinking people. Common traits they shared were gratitude, awe, hope and a willingness to accept help from others. I thought about that. Tragedy isn't so unexpected when you work in a hospital. But it always feels like a senseless loss.

I think about these people, all twisted and broken. I think about their loved ones and their shock, their loss. And then I think about hope and awe and how easily they fill our hearts any time fireworks fill the night sky.