A few days ago I took a walk with a neighbor along the wooded path behind my house. The rain had just moved on, leaving the forest washed clean. Leaves hung heavy with droplets showing that deep, saturated green you only see after a fresh shower.
A mild breeze drifted through the trees, carrying the sound of birds who seemed almost grateful for the moment. A chipmunk crossed our path, paused to consider us, and offered a loud chit before disappearing into the brush.
I said something about how beautiful the day was, how lucky we were to be out in it. “It’s great if you like ticks,” he grumbled. “Probably get bit by a snake.”
As we walked on, I found myself wondering how two people could stand in the same place, at the same time, and see such different worlds. It made me think about attitude and optimism — whether those things are inherited, or shaped, or simply chosen. Whether I was born with a certain tilt toward the bright side, or whether life nudged me there over time.
A different friend, a different moment, but the same contrast.
We were sitting outside a coffee shop in Seattle. He pointed out how slow the service was and how the waiter seemed a bit surly. I was content — the coffee was perfect, no rain in sight (a small miracle in Seattle), and the waiter, to my eyes, was doing just fine.
It reminded me of something I’ve always believed: In life, you get what you expect. Maybe we don’t just see the world — maybe we color it.
Social scientists have debated “personality” for decades. The bottom line is that personality is shaped by both heredity and enculturation, but neither dominates across all traits. Research shows a meaningful genetic influence on temperament and certain personality tendencies while culture and environment shape how those tendencies are expressed,
All this being said, I believe we can still choose how we want to react to something or someone. Is the shot glass of Fireball half empty or half full?
Each winter at Whisper Creek, I look forward to the familiar rhythm of the place. Friends gathering, activities humming, cocktails flowing, games in the community center, golf carts buzzing along, walkers doing what walkers do. It’s a simple, steady joy.
So I’m always a little surprised when someone grumbles that “It ain’t what it used to be.” I sometimes wonder what they’re seeing that I’m not.
And honestly, I’m not sure I want to know.
In whatever years I have left, I choose a life shaped by creativity and optimism. I choose to tell the silly jokes that make people groan and write the stories that make them smile. I choose to enjoy time with my wife and my springers. I choose to cherish the smiles of my baby granddaughters.
These aren’t just preferences — they’re the way I’ve decided to meet the world.
And the world, more often than not, meets me back with kindness and a big smile.
