If pride comes before a fall, what comes after disappointment?

Disappointment is not something any of us aim for, I’m sure. The very last thing I ever want to be told by someone is that they are disappointed in me. But this week, I have been very disappointed in others. Life goes on, but that niggling thread of “if only” and “why could it not have been different” lingers in the corners of my mind.

Last week’s lightening-quick sale of our cottage ended in disappointment all round when the deal fell through at the final hurdle. The details are not what matter here; what matters is that age-old life lesson about counting your chickens before they’re hatched and sharing good news before it is fully rooted and secured.

But who among us has not jumped the gun? Presumed that all would go as promised, as planned? Believed in the goodness of people and trusted that the story would unfold as it had begun — smoothly, seamlessly, successfully?

Ah, well. Sometimes it just doesn’t.

So we find ourselves at a new beginning, with a different round of showings and with possibilities of a different success story when each new family arrives to wander round the property and take a measure of this lovely spot.

Learning never ends, and lessons come in all shapes and sizes. Some of my most profound life learning has come through loss or disappointment; I am likely not alone in this. The wisdom comes from feeling all the emotions (sorrow, despair, self-pity, anger, etc.) and carrying on, with all those feelings riding shotgun until you’re ready to open the door, boot them out, and carry on with your own best company as guide — and with resilience and hope riding shotgun.

In our case, we are getting on with what’s in front of us: a spectacular view that, until the papers are signed and the money is transferred, is ours to enjoy every single day that we are here. I can feel the disappointment and anger fade even as I write these words… The sun is rising on another day at Clifftop Cottage, and all will be well.

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Good news that is secure and that I am confident to share is that a personal essay of mine has been accepted by the Globe and Mail for its First Person page; it is slated to run August 30th. I’ll share the link when I see my words and byline in print. The essay is (ironically?) about cottage life.