The Complain Train has left the station (and I’m not on it).

I’ll let you in on a little secret…people love to complain.

A lot.

A lot.

I’ll tell you that during most of this past winter, I heard person after person complain about the snow.

“Snow again??”

or

“It’s still snowing?”

And sometimes I got this one: “Why can’t it just be spring already?”

I bit my tongue so many times this winter I’m surprised I still have one left in my mouth!

I fought the urge to say things like, “Did you know that it can snow in the wintertime?” or “Hey, I’ve gone thirty minutes or so without someone complaining about the cold. Could you hook me up?”

There is a part of my brain that loves sarcasm. In real life, I avoid it because it never translates well (and never over text or e-mail…please!), and generally ends up hurting or confusing the other person.

The point I want to make here is how often, even just in regular conversation, it occurs to people to complain, about something, anything, just to have something to say. It’s not anyone’s fault; our society has collectively agreed to totally allow and perpetuate it.

And, truth be told, it’s much easier to agree with someone when he or she is complaining than to counter it with, “You know, I actually love the cold because it means that I appreciate the spring more when it finally does get here!” Or something along the lines of, “I don’t mind the snow because it means I get to hang out in my home and snuggle up with my husband and our cats by the fire.”

For some reason, that’s not really a popular way to talk.

Here is what I know:

There are people in the world who will never get to experience the warmth of a fireplace. Or understand what “snuggling up” feels like. Or even know what “home” means. I know how fortunate I am, and it’s something I never, ever take for granted.

And that is why I have jumped off The Complain Train.

I did get a bit bruised on the hop off that train…I didn’t land quite as softly as I was hoping I would. And I had to wave goodbye to some people in my life who insisted on staying on it for a long time.

Every once in a while, because I’m human, I find myself back on it, taking a short ride. Then I remember that I don’t travel that way anymore, and quickly get off at the next stop. These days the ride usually only lasts for a few minutes, and getting off the train feels…good.

It feels good not to complain. It feels good to remember how much I have in my life, how fortunate I am to be living my life, to be alive, every single day.

I’m driving my own car now.

Road trip, anyone?