When I was about 13, I was going through a premature midlife crisis in which I realized I had not contributed a single good thing to the world. I developed an obnoxiously in-your-face sort of bleeding heart, and to make sure I never lost my compassion, I taped depressing news articles to my bedroom wall, right above where I slept. I believe the first was an outdoor medic unit set up after a natural disaster - at the time, I wanted to be a nurse, and it was inspiring. Tirades about the likely effects of smoking in the next however many years, the state of landfills, and more natural disasters followed.
They remained on my wall for years. Until just a few days ago.
My room is a disaster. It's a pig sty. I walk atop a thick layer of clothing to get to my bed every time I go in, and it's generally coated in the detritus of who I used to be. Lately, I've felt inspired to make my space reflect who I am more accurately, and this meant taking down my little collection of depressing news clippings. Because, really, will being reminded of lung cancer of hurricanes help me care about the world? Probably not. If I ever paid attention to them, it would probably only depress me.
Now, in place of the melancholy menagerie, I've taped up pictures of things I classify as wonderful. Manatees. The cutest picture of me and my boyfriend in existence. Marilyn Monroe, back when ordinary, healthy bodies were still revered as beautiful.
And really, maybe this will give me a greater love for life than my collection of somber realities ever did, because now I sleep underneath the good things that life has to offer.