I think the most wonderful thing a person can bring into your life is optimism.
I have never liked rain. I’ve never seen a benefit to it. I know that some people like the idea of staying inside, all warm and cosy, whilst it thunders outside. I’d rather sunbathe.
It was raining on my way to my tutorial on Tuesday morning. I was tired, hungry because I’d forgotten to eat breakfast, and annoyed that my hair was getting ruined. I have so few good hair days, and something always manages to ruin them.
I sat through my tute, yawning as rain pitter-pattered on the window of my tutor’s office. I felt myself get lost in the discussion – not really paying much attention to what I was saying, yet arguing with an unfamiliar fervour about the effects of the events of 1989. Idly, I wished I’d had this much passion when writing the essay.
The tute ended, and my second mission of the day commenced: procure a cheesecake. I get rather limited opportunities to celebrate my culture whilst at Oxford, and so I try to find small ways to incorporate the many Jewish holidays into my regular routine. For Shavuot, the celebration of the Jewish people receiving the Old Testament at Mount Sinai, this meant buying a cheesecake. Shavuot is in my top five Jewish holidays, and I missed out on all community celebrations because of the aforementioned tute essay, so I was determined to procure this cheesecake. I was a woman on a mission.
It was useful that Tesco was on my way home from the tutorial. The rain was light – I thought to myself, oh, I hope that doesn’t get worse. That’d be a miserable walk home. I wandered around Tesco doing my weekly shop, but disaster struck. No cheesecake. I don’t know why I expected Tesco to have cheesecake, but I did, and I’d been craving this all day. After a somewhat challenging tute, and a very hastily written essay the day before, I needed this cheesecake. And here my bad mood began.
I finished up my weekly shop slightly more bitter than before. I packed up my bag, dropped my basket by the door, and saw the second disaster of the day.
It was pouring. Not a little sprinkle, not some summer rain; the heavens had opened up and for the first time, I understood what Noah must have felt like watching the Flood.
What could I do? I couldn’t wait it out in Tesco for who knew how many hours. And so I ventured out into the rain. I would have got back to college quicker if I’d swum.
I understand why they call them April showers – the water pressure at college is nothing compared to that rain. Yet I think it is not unreasonable to assume that I’m safe from April showers in June. By the time I arrived back at college, not a single spot on my body was dry. I was soaked through. I was shivering. “Drowned rat” doesn’t even begin to capture it – I looked like I’d been waterboarded for a full 24 hours.
I wanted a nap. I wanted to put away my groceries and sleep for a hundred years. And most importantly, I wanted to be warm.
And then I managed to check my phone – which, despite having been in my pocket, was also soaked with rain. I had about 20 messages from my friend – who helped inspire this column – about the rain.
Some context: he loves rain. Like nothing I’ve ever seen. He texts me excitedly every time it rains. He’s told me before how calming he finds the rain, how it reminds him of home. I once found him sitting outside our college bar in the rain, just enjoying it.
It’s very difficult to feel annoyed about something when it makes someone else so happy. I immediately felt sort of silly for my bad mood. So, I got rained on. I warmed up relatively quickly, right?
Friendships like this are the foundation of this column, and the foundation of my life. In the same way that being sober around drunk people can make you act drunk, being around optimistic people really has an effect. If I’m convinced of anything, I’m convinced of this.
I’ve been writing about optimism for a long while. But writing isn’t what’s turned me into an optimist. As much as I enjoy it, writing isn’t the thing that’s changed my life. People have.