The Hidden Habit of Grumbling

I just spent four days in London with my husband as part of a National Theatre American Associates program which was wide ranging in theatre from Shakespeare to new works. And being around him—my husband, not Shakespeare—reminded me of how contagious a person’s energy can be.

My husband is one of those relentlessly sunny people. The kind who wakes up cheerful, stays cheerful, and thinks a ten-minute walk through Heathrow Terminal 5 is an adventure akin to backpacking through Nepal. He greets flight delays like they’re plot twists in a romantic comedy. He is, in short, the human equivalent of a freshly made bed.

With Mr. Sunshine by my side I became more aware of others’ natural states and found a prevalent one. Grumbling.

I’ve heard it’s sneaky, the way it creeps in. A little sigh here. An eye roll there. Suddenly you’re muttering about the state of the world while waiting in line for coffee. You’re not even crazy about coffee. You just need somewhere to put your free-floating exasperation.

We all know this person the professional grumbler. The one who finds fault with everyone and everything. I think I sat next to her on the plane home. Well, technically, she was in the aisle. She was also the flight attendant.

She had the demeanor of someone who’d spent the past twelve hours trying to teach one year olds how to fold napkins. Exhausted. Irritable. Not even pretending to care. “Kid gloves with this one,” I thought. It was clear that my usual “Hi there, how are you?” was not going to spark joy.

But my husband—of course—kept at it. Tossing out cheerfulness like it was confetti. Making corny jokes. Thanking her for things most people barely grunt at. And somehow, eventually, the clouds parted. A smile appeared. Not a big one. Not the kind that gets you featured in an airline magazine. But a smile, nonetheless.

The truth is, we never really know what someone’s going through. It’s so easy to jump to judgment, to assume the worst based on a frown or a tone or a curt reply. But maybe if we stopped rehearsing our grievances and started handing out a little more grace, things would feel a little lighter. Not perfect. Not tied up in a bow. But lighter. I’m trying hard to be a judgement free human zone.