I'm a bit naive. But I like that about me.

On Friday I was unceremoniously ditched. By email. Not to my face. Not even to my ear. By email.

It came out of the blue. Arriving in my inbox like a hammer to my heart. A tremor of shock rippling through my very being as I stood dumfounded in the midst of a busy bustling pub surrounded by the din and revelry of a colleague's leaving do.

Ironically I'd only just met said colleague who was leaving and we'd hit it off immediately and were having great fun exchanging anecdotes in full knowledge that our paths may not cross again. Investing in each other a degree of friendship and trust.

I'm naive. It is a fact of my life.

I place my faith in people and assume as a result they will be true to their word.

When they're not I feel silly. Very silly.

It is embarrassing. And wallowing in my foolishness it is hard to control my emotions. The temptation to hit back. To send them the email that you've redrafted dozens of times.

But when that initial anger passes, when you allow the deep breaths to regain your composure, you realise that naievity has its benefits too.

Imagine wandering through life as a cynic. Riddled with suspicion. Fueled by mistrust. And driven by deceit.

I choose a different path. 

I will always assume the best. Even if at times that means I'm taken for a ride.

Last night I lost my cap. It blew away in a gust of wind. The calamity that followed is worthy of a separate blog post. Suffice to say it involved four strangers and an umbrella. My hat remains at large. 

This morning I spotted these spectacles (pictured below) lying lonely on the street. They stopped me in my tracks. And got me thinking. They gave me a new perspective.

I slowly realised I recognised them. They looked familiar. 

They were in fact my wife's glasses. Undamaged despite a night alone on the street outside. 

For some reason I find that oddly comforting. As if the tide has turned in my favour once more. 

The business deal I lost on Friday, the cap I dispensed of last night are but two blips on an otherwise wondrous voyage. 

I am a better man as a result. I can raise my head higher. And you can't take that away from me.

Deep thoughts for a Sunday morning. But I feel better for sharing them.