Complain, and live longer

Today I am writing a column complaining about people who complain about complainers.

A while ago I read a really good quote about the uselessness, negativity and other bad things about complaining. That is so true and profound, I thought, and made a vow then and there to never complain about anything else again. I think I may have even written a column about it.

I apologize to anyone I may have offended. I don’t blame you if you wanted to smack me.

I mither on about stuff to you, but I actually don’t complain very much in a serious way, at least I’ve been told that I don’t. My philosophy, no matter what the problem, is that most people in the world have it worse, and I try to find some humour in it, no matter how dark, and remind myself of all I have to be thankful for.

Of course I’m not perfect (imagine!) and the rights and wrongs of complaining are confusing. I looked up a definition; complaining is expressing dissatisfaction, pain, resentment, or grief; finding fault: telling of one’s pains or ailments, etc.

I have to complain about that definition. Expressing grief is not complaining, it is expressing grief. Speaking of your pains, if need be, doesn’t have to mean going on and on about them, i.e. complaining. Simply stating the facts about whatever makes you dissatisfied or resentful isn’t synonymous with whining or carrying on.

The incredible volume of quotes about the virtues of not complaining is it enough to make you sick. (I guess that’s a complaint.) The common sentiment is reasonable enough: “What you’re supposed to do when you don’t like a thing is change it. If you can’t change it, change the way you think about it. Don’t complain.” — Maya Angelou

Ergo, if you send back a well-done steak when you ordered rare, you’re not complaining, you’re simply pointing out that you did not get what you ordered and are doing something to change it.

What about if you were feeling really good and looking forward to getting a lot of gardening done and being active in the summer for the first time in five years and you walk into a store, slip on a wet tile and find yourself out of commission for God knows how long. You obviously can’t change it, so, according to Maya, you must change the way you think about it.

This is the part I’m having trouble with. I cannot find any humour in it but if I was a well-adjusted person I wouldn’t complain? Haha.

I don’t really think of what I’ve been doing for the past two weeks, feeling pain, aggravation, frustration and disappointment, and occasionally expressing it, makes me a complainer. I think it makes me normal.

Imagine if I told you I feel blessed with this unexpected opportunity to sit around and read books and watch the grass grow and contemplate my navel and my place in the meaning of the universe. Would you want me as your friend? And if you did, would I want you for mine? What’s a friend for if not to listen to your woes, pour you a drink and share them?

Besides, there is a school of thought that complaining is good for you. “If you have had a trying experience, you are probably better off talking about it than keeping it to yourself.” Done that.

“This is most effective when you focus not just on the negative event but also discuss potential solutions.” — Hire someone for the work you can’t do? How about hire someone to have the enjoyment you can’t have?

“If you and another person have had the same negative experience it can be relationship-enhancing to complain about it. Even something like ‘terrible weather today’ can accomplish this with a stranger.” No need for comment; any Newfoundlander could have told them that.

I also found a study that said people who complain live longer by two years compared to non-complainers. Now that’s something to complain about if you don’t believe in complaining.