As a self-declared catastrophist, I am always taken aback when good things happen.

There’s a steep hill below my parents’ holiday house in Donegal, my nemesis now, that holds something I’d never heard about in all my forty years. My dad has been seeking out an easy way down for me and others. Turns out it’s beside what was a house many years ago! And would only require two steps to get onto the beach!

You see, I thought, my days going down that way are done. But now, a way has been made! And there is a whisper of a story just beside it.

A lot of the time, being practical, knowing your limits and expecting the worst blinds you to the mysterious possibilities waiting beside you. I’m learning that I need to shake off my gloomy expectations and accept things that are better.

Of course we can say ‘I knew that would happen’ until the cows come home. But how does that make us feel? Smug? Confirmed in our pessimism? Happy?

Predicting the worst often brings the worst. How about expecting the best? If it doesn’t happen then all we have to deal with is a hope that next time it will be better.

So for my part, I’m going to throw off my ‘I told you so’s and start expecting some good surprises every once in a while. You should try it too!